ã€ŠThe Young Lady is a Reborn Assassinã€‹


 Prologue

    I always knew that one day my number would come up.

    ¡°He¡¯s over there! Surround him!¡±

    Getting shot wasn¡¯t a first for me, but it had never hurt like this before. The bullet had gone clean through my body armour and into my chest. I could feel my breathing slowing, and becoming more ragged by the second. Each inhalation sent a jolt of pain through my system. I hadn¡¯t messed up ¨C things had simply not gone my way. That was the way of things.

    It was tough to live as a man who danced on the edge of society. Someone who was only good for one thing, causing harm to others; I took a lot of pride in my ability to harm others. Rather than words, I communicated using bullets. An outpouring of rage against a world that had once forsaken me. A broiling anger at the corruption that occurred under people¡¯s noses without notice. I was the world¡¯s greatest assassin. I was perhaps the only one. I was not a regular killer - hired off the dark net and paid in unstable cryptocurrency.

    I was a professional. A professional who was clutching a bleeding chest wound and stumbling down a long, gilded corridor. A long trail of bloody handprints had been left in my wake. How had they not caught up to me yet? My bleary eyes focused momentarily and revealed the marble lobby that lay beyond. What a nice place to die.

    No other assassin could lay a claim to the same standards as me. I did not meet strangers and undercover policemen in the parking lot of the nearest fast food joint. I did not wire my money through a personal bank account for all to see. I did not loiter around the crime scene waiting for someone to throw a pair of cuffs around my wrists. It took weeks or even months of meticulous planning and information gathering to perform one hit. Pointing a gun and firing was easy - the hard part was getting away without being caught.

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    But even the best laid plans had a chance to go awry. There was nothing left in me. I collapsed down onto my stomach and forced myself to roll over. I stared up at the ceiling of the hotel where the gunfight had broken out. Dozens of armed security guards and police officers surrounded my bloodied body. This was the way that I wanted to go. Perhaps if they searched my home they would find the large collection of illegal firearms that I kept in the basement, or maybe even the folder of completed jobs I used to keep track of my work. The full weight of my sins would finally be known.

    I couldn¡¯t go any further than this. The strength to walk had left me. The blood continued to pour, escaping from my body and forming a deep puddle beneath. The wolves were closing in, fangs bared in case I tried to resist one last time. I was the first to know that such a thing was impossible.

    My victims didn¡¯t deserve justice. Justice was their friend ¨C a system that existed to protect them from the consequences of their actions. I chose each and every target with care, people that shielded themselves by ordering others to do the dirty work. Who caused large-scale harm that could not be quantified through a direct prison sentence. Living like that makes a lot of enemies, and some of them were willing to pay me big money.

    The crimson mark that spread through the white t-shirt I was wearing signalled the end. The bulletproof vest could not stand up to a bullet of the calibre that now rested in one of my internal organs. I did not despair at finally meeting my maker. I had been counting the days until my effort was extinguished from the very start.

    Just as the encroaching blackness filled my vision I finally felt a mite of fear. Something I had not considered before then. If the police searched my home and found my hidden stash of firearms, then it was only a matter of time until they found the secret compartment concealed a layer deeper. The worst possible outcome, my fullest and most vibrant shame paraded for all to see.

    I really, really hoped that they wouldn¡¯t find my visual novel collection.

 Chapter 1

    A new year beckoned within the Republic of Walser. The cold winter snows had finally given way to the onset of a fresh spring. A new year meant new arrivals at the Walser Royal Institute and College; the most prestigious and sought-after learning establishment in the nation. The affluent halls of the College were where the future leaders, businesspeople and elucidated thinkers were groomed into fine, upstanding adults.

    Nearly every sitting member of the government¡¯s cabinet had attended this very school. If one wished to ordain the future direction of the nation at large, one needs only study the names and faces of those who arrived in the large, front-facing garden. Hundreds of teenagers who had left home for the first time gathered in the square, chatting animatedly about what they would do now that they had arrived.

    Amongst the throng of rich kids and vestigial nobles was an odd character. A tall girl with mousy brown hair, freckled cheeks and wide, excited eyes. Samantha Easton had never seen such an exquisite manor before! The momentary anxiety she had felt dismounting one of the carriages was swept away in a fairy tale delusion. Without knowing the sordid history of the family that once held it, the manor truly was a sight to behold.

    It reached out and embraced the front garden with two large arms, each one lined with delicate marble lining and supporting pillars. Hundreds and hundreds of smooth glass windows allowed a tantalising peak of the inside. The building was four stories tall and extremely large in footprint, containing enough dormitories to house hundreds of students and staff members. The central building was the College itself. A comparatively constrained selection of teaching rooms packed into what was once an exclusively residential zone.

    Samantha couldn¡¯t believe that she, of all people, was being permitted to attend an academy such as this! Her father had worked his fingers to the bone saving up for her tuition, assisted by a sudden and sharp rise in demand for his farm products. Things had moved so quickly in the past few years. Motorised tools and modern techniques caused entire fields of crops to grow from nothing in a matter of weeks.

    There was a time when her father feared that these advancements would leave him behind; but many of those old farming families moved on to new businesses. No longer reliant on subsistence work to feed themselves, a new class of industrial workers had been born. Those who remained were reaping the benefits. Her father wished for Samantha to be one of those people ¨C forging a new path in a rapidly changing world. A strong score on the entrance exam secured her a place as part of a new equality initiative.

    As out of place as she felt with such good-mannered peers, Samantha was determined from the start not to be left behind. One day she wanted to speak proudly of her rural origins and thank her father for everything he had done. To do so, she would need to become successful enough to elicit that type of curiosity.

    Some were born with a natural magnetism.

    The chatter ceased as a particular private carriage trundled its way up the long stone drive.

    The family crest engraved into the maroon wood was unmistakable. Twin eagles perched atop a jagged mount of stone contained with the interior of a flourishing shield. Branches of Ivy reached out and entangled the edges. The Walston-Carter family. Once a relatively obscure leftover from the days of the monarchy, now one of the wealthiest and most well-regarded. It would not have been a surprise to find one of them soon standing for Prime Minister.

    The true scope of their wealth was a mystery. A fortune built on mining raw materials for the city¡¯s burgeoning industrial sector was a good one indeed. The head of the family had gone on a buying spree, snapping up promising businesses from coast to coast. They would then be pumped full of money and some of the best equipment available ¨C resulting in an explosive growth of production and employee numbers.

    All of this in isolation would have explained some small part of the respect and awe that the carriage was gathering, yet there was another, more interesting element to the story. It had been the world¡¯s worst-kept secret, hinted at in the pages of local newspapers for months. The carriage was transporting none other than Damian Walston-Carter¡¯s first and most beloved daughter, Maria.

    People loved to talk about her. They said she was wise beyond her years, beautiful, ice cold, and with a glare that could cut flesh. The girl had sprouted just as many inane rumours and legends as the family as a whole. Some said that she had won a clay pigeon trophy at the age of eight. Others that she had the strength of a fully-grown man. If Samantha knew of those stories as Maria stepped outwards from the carriage door, she would have expressed an immense scepticism.

    ¡®She¡¯s just like a doll...¡±

    That was the first thing that came to mind. Maria Walston-Carter was alike to the expensive toys that she had seen sitting in the shop windows. The greatest minds in the newly emerging art of film could not have hoped to organise an image so perfect in a thousand years of trying. She landed on the cobbled ground without flinching or hesitating. Her perfectly permed, curly black hair bristled in the light breeze. Her pale skin glistened in the morning sunlight. Crimson eyes addressed the audience with an unspoken demand. Move or be moved.

    In an instant, the lead servant rounded the back of the carriage and unlatched a large trunk containing her belongings. Rather than allow the elder man to carry it for her as the crowd expected, Maria extended her hand and wordlessly took it from him. The way that she commanded respect and refused to be coddled by her own servants; suddenly those rumours didn¡¯t sound so outlandish after all.

    She marched down the central avenue of the garden without struggling with its weight. Her back remained unbent. As she passed by, the noise started again ¨C though this time everyone was speaking of her and her alone. She was one of the most sought-after brides in the Federation. Anyone who successfully courted her was sure to enjoy a life of comfort or ambition. Girls wondered how they could emulate her style and grace, boys wondered what they could do to get into her good books.

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    All of this from nothing. Samantha was in awe. Such was the power of a real noble girl.

    Maria did not spare any of the onlookers a second glance. Her only interest was reaching the front of the line ¨C where the entrance speech would soon be held by the headteacher. She parked herself beside one of the plaza¡¯s gazebos and placed her trunk down onto the ground, hands folded over her lap.

    Samantha could not contain her curiosity. She slowly drifted after her, making sure to avoid getting in anyone¡¯s way. Not a single soul dared approach Maria. It was like an exclusion field had been erected around her person. She had cleared an area of the already packed garden without even saying a word. Step by step, Samantha got closer and closer. In her single-minded drive to speak with the girl of the moment, Samantha was completely ignorant as to the machinations of a huddle of boys behind her.

    Even an academy as prestigious as the Royal Institute attracted bad apples.

    Rotten parents formed the bedrock for equally rotten children. Samantha¡¯s sun-kissed complexion had immediately marked her as a target of ill-doers of all stripes and creeds. The head of the gang reached down and retrieved a small rock, anxiously palming it until the perfect chance presented itself. When it finally did ¨C he whipped it at Samantha with as much strength as he could muster.

    The stone flew through the air like a bullet, threatening to strike the young girl and leave her with a bloody welt ¨C yet at the precise moment when the rock was thrown, Samantha had already erred from the straight path she was taking. For a single terrifying second, the boy came to the realisation that the stone would not hit its intended target.

    A million and one thoughts went through his mind. This was it. The end of his life at the academy. His dumb rock was heading straight for the prettiest, wealthiest girl in the school. And when it hit, he would become its biggest pariah until the end of his days. Of all the damnable things he could have done, why did he choose to throw something with her in such close proximity?

    Without turning her head, Maria reached out with the speed of a coiled snake and snatched the spinning projectile from mid-air. A collective gasp rang out from the student body. It was a superhuman display of reactions and hand-eye coordination.

    Relief turned to panic. He let out a pained squeak and whispered to himself; ¡°She caught it?¡± Her outstretched arm slowly turned around, palm open, presenting the makeshift weapon to the culprit. Then she turned to face him with predatory crimson eyes glowing in her sockets. He clutched his chest like a bolt had been shot through his heart. Never once in his life had he felt fear so raw and visceral.

    Maria passed the stone between her hands, feeling the weight and texture of the exterior surface. After repeating this several times, she turned her entire body to face the boy and sneered haughtily. With a flick of her wrist it was sent back the way it came, curving in mid-air and glancing off the boy¡¯s forehead.

    Hit like a gunshot, he fell to the ground. A long red mark was left behind where the skin had been rubbed away. He blinked helplessly and tried to comprehend what had just happened to him. And then, without another word, she turned back to her original position. A chill passed through those who witnessed the incident, and at that moment an unspoken agreement to never mention it to the teachers was forged.

    This was just the first of many incidents that would soon cement Maria¡¯s reputation as the most fearsome of all the students. Wisely, Samantha thought twice about speaking with her. It was just as well that she decided to stay away. The dorm mistress was already walking down the steps and approaching the female students. She clapped her hands and demanded the attention of the chattering girls.

    ¡°Good morning everyone. I am Miss Marside, I¡¯ll be the one looking after you during your first year at the academy.¡±

    Her voice was shrill, high-pitched, but the tone of her statements did not match with her character. She had a long, narrow face and sunken eyes. A messy bun of white hair was tangled atop her head. She reminded Samantha of her dear Grandmother. Though her perception of her Grandmother was warped due to her absence going on five years by that time.

    She held out a small wooden board and a pencil; ¡°Firstly, I will take a register of all those who will be occupying the dorms. If you are staying within the Academy¡¯s grounds ¨C please step forward so you may be counted.¡±

    There was a rippling from within the crowd as the dorm residents separated themselves from those who lived close enough to travel. Samantha found herself standing beside Maria, even though moments ago she had decided to try and stay out of her way. If Maria found her presence unbecoming, she did not make a fuss of it.

    Samantha was very excited. This was the furthest she had ever been from her home on the farm. A new world was opening before her eyes, filled with interesting people from many different places. What wonders would she behold in the future, and what amazing things would she learn from the experienced faculty of the Royal Academy?

    ¡°Lady Walston-Carter.¡±

    Samantha observed as the shorter girl stepped outwards and faced the teacher. She was completely unreadable. Her stance was confident but her expression unmoved. She was the enigma that had entranced hundreds of potential suitors from noble families across the globe.

    ¡°Here.¡±

    Samantha shivered, but not from the cool breeze that had blown through the yard. What should have been a regular response to what was asked of her appeared as more of a statement. Maria Walston-Carter was ¡®here,¡¯ and everyone would take notice. A single word immediately sparked another flurry of conversation from the crowd who had gathered to observe.

    ¡°Her voice is incredible. What an authoritative tone!¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t suit her cute face at all...¡±

    The teacher snapped her fingers and cleared her throat, ¡°If you are not here to respond to the register, please mind your own business!¡±

    Her warning did little to clear the air. Some of the rule-abiding students backed away but remained within earshot in the hopes of listening in on Maria speaking again. Maria was not going to offer her fans any more fuel for discussion. She remained silent.

    ¡°Lady Walston-Carter, you will occupy room one-hundred-five.¡±

    Samantha relaxed again until her own name was called.

    ¡°Miss Samantha Easton ¨C you will occupy room one-hundred-fifteen.¡±

    She nodded to show her comprehension, ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am.¡±

    That meant that she was going to be living rather close to Maria. Samantha was starting to understand why she captivated the others so much. She could barely take her mind off of her. Everything had to be framed in its relation to Maria Walston-Carter. What would she think, or say, how close would she be to the topic of discussion? Her display of marksmanship had elicited an intense curiosity in her. Seldom seen was a girl so well-bred that would respond in such a way.

    Samantha wanted to know more.

 Chapter 2

    I had died in a hail of gunfire at a swanky hotel just a few moments before.

    To awaken from such an experience was surprising in itself. Was all of that just a bad dream? I was in a bed; a bed I wasn¡¯t familiar with. I understood that modern medicine was impressive, but to survive a wound such as that after bleeding for so long was improbable. I stared at the canopy above for several minutes, trying to piece together what little I knew. I remembered being shot vividly ¨C and the chase that occurred as I tried to get away from the police. I didn¡¯t remember dreams like this, so that meant it was a memory.

    I pushed myself up into a sitting position. The more the angle of my view changed, the more questions urgently squeezed themselves to the forefront of my brain. This was not a hospital room, nor was it a jail cell. I was stranded between four wooden posts, attached to a queen-sized bed. The great expanse of white sheets and knitted lace sent me for a loop.

    Then there was the rest of the room that surrounded me. Deep crimson walls, a heavy wooden wardrobe and matching dressing table. A single electrical lamp was placed on a smaller table beside the bed. To my left was a towering window, criss-crossed with black lines that offered some scant privacy from the world outside. The room was crafted with supreme care; there were wooden cornices at the top and bottom of the walls.

    I was not in my own home. I did not recall purchasing a stately, European manor during my time as a hitman. I regrettably did not make enough money for such a flashy purchase. Lest someone had recovered my unconscious body and whisked me away to rural France, I had no idea of how I had ended up here. Something else was strange. My body felt different in a way I couldn¡¯t place. The surrealism of the situation blunted my reaction when I looked down at myself. I had clearly gotten much shorter in the intervening time. My arms and legs were stubby and thin. I would have guessed that my ¡®new¡¯ age was around eight or nine, though the unfortunate reality was that this ¡®new¡¯ me was rather diminutive, and I was off by upwards of a year.

    My clothes had been switched for a pair of pyjamas in a matching crimson. I wouldn¡¯t be caught dead wearing something like this, though the fact that I had already died was not lost on me. Now was a time for trying new things. I threw away the stupidly dense covers and hopped down onto the carpeted floor. The height of the bed caught me off guard. My first port of call was the dresser. It was a heavy, aged thing with decorative swirls engraved into the timber. More importantly it came with a large, circular mirror that was much too high for me to see into from the bed. I pushed the stool into position and climbed up, standing on the very tips of my toes to see what had become of me. I expected blood, scars and bandages, but what I received instead was much more shocking.

    A ruby-eyed, black haired little girl stared back.

    I blinked, she blinked. I opened my mouth, and she did the same. It was only when I raised my stubby arm and waved to myself that I finally accepted that this thing was me. Divine punishment had been imposed upon me harshly. I could do nothing but chuckle uncontrollably as the absurdity of it finally settled in. That was me. I was a little girl. And what a porcelain-faced angel I had been turned into. As if the mere disadvantage of becoming a young girl was not great enough, this particular girl had big, vivid eyes and the face of a masterwork painting. The first thought on my mind was that she couldn¡¯t bear to hurt a fly! I corrected that line of thought a moment later; I was just insulting myself. This was me. This was me. I repeated the statement again and again. I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around it.

    For whatever it was worth, the cruel deity that had seen fit to reincarnate me into this strange body had not done so haphazardly. Despite the huge gulf in appearance between my old and new bodies, I felt no real shock upon seeing my face in the mirror. There was an immediate acceptance in my mind that the doe-eyed, doll-faced girl was me. A second later I realised that I had started referring to myself as a girl internally too. I was certain that I had never harboured any serious desire to become a girl, despite my strange love for media that was aimed at them.

    This was all starting to sound very familiar.

    I reached out with my palms and brought them back inwards, pressing against my chest. The pressure was real. I was searching for discrepancies. I wanted to be sure that this wasn¡¯t a lucid dream, or the last desperate imaginings of a dying brain locked into a bleeding, hole-filled body. I closed my eyes and opened them again, studying the hands on the clock to see if they changed between instants. I did not know whether their staunch refusal to shift was reassuring or worrying. I could only continue with the assumption that this was real. How or why, I didn¡¯t know. I hoped that answers would be around the corner. I climbed back down and considered investigating the rest of the room for clues, but I was interrupted by a knocking on the door.

    ¡°My Lady, it¡¯s time to wake up!¡±

    The voice that burst forth caught me off guard as well. ¡°I¡¯m already awake.¡± That was what I wanted to say. But the intonation of it was so much different to what I expected. I had a voice like sharpened glass. A mature tenor topped with a pointed end. It was naturally rebellious and rude.

    I breathed a sigh of relief as the apparent servant responded positively, ¡°Punctual as always!¡±

    The door unlocked and opened, revealing a woman wearing a traditional maid uniform. She clutched several pieces of newly pressed clothes between her arms. She waddled over to the bed and lay them out one piece at a time. I observed her work and marvelled at the difference in height between us. I really had been de-aged by a few decades.

    ¡°The Master wishes for you to wear this ensemble today. Would you like some assistance?¡±

    Conscious of the way I spoke, I shook my head; ¡°No. I will manage.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I will escort you to the dining room once you are ready.¡±

    With that, she turned and left the room again, closing the door behind her. I was thankful for her consideration. I didn¡¯t have any knowledge about the layout of the manor I was now a resident of, and having someone dress me was too humiliating to consider. I hovered over my new clothes with a sceptical gaze.

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    Included in the package was a set of plain underwear, top and bottom. The main thing that caught my eye was the long, slender, and rather dense red dress designed to keep out the cold. A matching silk jacket would cover my arms. A large leather belt and a black skirt that reached below my knees were the final pieces. Given the anachronistic surroundings, the clothes, and the traditional maid and her deference to me as a lady, I could only conclude that I had been transported some time into the past.

    I swallowed my pride and changed into my new clothes. It was a struggle figuring out how to wear them properly, but I was not burdened with other out-of-style inconveniences that required a college degree in history to operate correctly. When all was said and done I was the spitting image of a young noble lady. I needed to blend in and figure things out. Rocking the boat by complaining about my clothes was a bad way to start.

    I stepped out into the hallway where the maid was waiting, ¡°Ah. You look simply wonderful today, my Lady.¡±

    I ignored the flattery and followed dutifully behind as she led me through a series of long, straight corridors. The windows offered a glimpse into a large garden, complete with fountains, ornaments and neatly trimmed hedges. Two other servants in overalls were busying themselves by making sure that everything was perfectly in place. It was a terrible location in terms of security: huge windows, long sightlines, and far too many rooms to hide in. My paranoid self was already starting to worry about the implications of living in such a place; even though there was no threat at the time.

    We finally arrived at a pair of already-opened doors. Inside was another long chamber, dominated by an equally long dining table. At the head of the table sat a man with finely combed and heavily greased black hair. A thick handlebar moustache sat upon his upper lip. He was dressed in a combination of three different suit pieces, of different colours and textures.

    The maid spoke to him from across the way, ¡°Maria is present and accounted for, Sir.¡±

    ¡°Thank you!¡±

    The maid bowed and made her exit, leaving me alone with the stranger. Given our comparative ages and similarity in appearances, I could only assume that he was meant to be my father. He was a significant upgrade over my last one. For one thing, he didn¡¯t seem like a piece of crap deadbeat. There were only two sets of cutleries prepared, the other to his left. I walked over and took my seat.

    He was holding a newspaper. Once he had confirmed that I had successfully walked to my spot without combusting spontaneously, he picked it up again and continued to bury his face into the pages. That was just fine by me. The newspaper was just the thing I needed to see. The title, emblazoned in bold stylized font declared, ¡°WALSER DAILY.¡± The date was the 5th ''Bluest,'' 1898. The front-page story was about an upcoming parliamentary election.

    It was a good thing that I had a lot of experience in pretending I knew what I was doing. I was completely lost. I didn¡¯t know where I was, who I was, or when I was in comparison to the ¡®real¡¯ world. Half of my brain was still acting under the belief that this was all a bad dream, one last kick in the nuts before I got sent straight to hell.

    He spoke abruptly, ¡°Ms. Barnslay tells me that you¡¯ve been studying very hard recently.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± I hazarded.

    My ¡®Father¡¯ sighed, ¡°To think, when I was a young boy, women didn¡¯t have to worry about things like that. I suppose that¡¯s the cost of progress.¡±

    I held my tongue and remained silent.

    ¡°And us old magic users ¨C they don¡¯t respect us half as much as they used to! Not now that they¡¯ve built all of those fancy machines to replace us.¡±

    Thanks for the exposition, Dad. I got the sense that this was a regular line of complaint from him. An old man whiling away the days in comfort, afraid of the changing times. I had already grasped that I was somewhere different, but his casual mention of magic sent me for a loop. What¡¯s a little defying the laws of physics and reality between friends?

    He snapped the paper shut and placed it down on the table, ¡°Well ¨C the Royal Academy has an excellent elective magic course. I hope that you¡¯ll strongly consider continuing the family tradition; it¡¯s going to be a rare talent in the near future.¡±

    I played along with him, ¡°I will.¡±

    It was the answer he wanted to hear, he smiled and nodded back, ¡°You¡¯ve always been a smart girl. There¡¯s nothing to worry about.¡±

    Getting good grades was the least of my worries. I needed to learn everything there was to learn about this world and fast. I was two seconds away from exposing myself as a total moron. Even basic questions about where I was or who I was would have invited doom. If I could snatch that newspaper or find a library to pilfer, I¡¯d be able to stuff my brain with knowledge and avoid such a scenario. Asking one of the staff members would be rather suspicious. I could only hope for an opportunity to wander the house unsupervised so I could locate it for myself.

    Old habits die hard ¨C I was already entering ¡®work¡¯ mode. My brain scurried from point to point, coming up with a variety of contingency plans, excuses and escape routes that could prove advantageous. The chairs weren¡¯t nailed down, but they were too heavy for me to throw through one of the windows. Escape would have to be done the old-fashioned way, should things come to that. The selection of silverware in front of me included some sharp instruments that could remove an eye or cut an artery with ease.

    The paranoia was entirely misplaced. A second later the door opened and another young man in a white shirt placed an ornate silver platter in front of me. My father smiled, ¡°Ah, thank you.¡± The servant bowed politely and left the way he came. I lifted the lid from the platter and beheld the lavish breakfast that had been prepared for me. Meat, vegetables and bread were given in excess. He observed me as I picked up the correct knife and fork. I was thankful that at least once in my life, I researched the proper way to eat with etiquette so I could fit in at a fancy party.

    ¡°I¡¯m heading out for some shooting later. I trust that you will be okay without me?¡±

    I swallowed, the food was surprisingly good; ¡°Yes. But shooting?¡±

    He chuckled, ¡°Ah. I do suppose I cursed the invention of the firearm more than a few times. Sir Leondt insisted that I try it for myself before I pass judgement. I¡¯m rather ashamed to say that I was misguided in my reaction. It is an admirable way to socialise, and a rather exciting sport at that.¡±

    Shooting. That meant guns. If there was one thing I could earnestly say I enjoyed as a hobby, it was firearms. I disconnected it from my work and preserved the joy of exploring them. A handgun usually sufficed for most tasks, but the more specialised weapons were reserved for private time at the local ranges. I wondered what types of firearms were available. Were they breech-loaded or muzzle loaded?

    Survival demanded that I know. I refrained from asking too many questions about the specifics. A gun was the great equaliser; the most terrifying weapon ever developed. Something which could be held in the hand and be used by most anyone. They were a sign of changing times, and if my new Father was old enough to remember their creation ¨C things would be tumultuous.

    My full delve into the world of guns could wait for the time being. I polished off the rest of my meal and considered my options. I was expecting my father to stand and reveal I had something planned already, but he did not. The day was mine to do with as I pleased.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get yourself into trouble while I¡¯m gone, young lady.¡±

    He powered out of the room and left me on my own. I quickly hopped down from my chair and hurried over to where the newspaper lay. I folded it up and slipped it into my clothes for later. It would provide essential context for where I was and what was happening. With that done, I decided to seek out privacy and a collection of books so that I could study properly. It was time to explore the manor fully.

 Chapter 3

    The next several days were spent gathering information. I had slowly accumulated a variety of stolen newspapers from where my Father left them on the dining table every morning. That context was essential to understanding where I was. From my cursory investigation, it appeared that I was in some type of fantasy world ¨C one where unusual creatures and the use of magic were common. Aside from a passing comment about ¡®changing my hair,¡¯ nobody suspected anything about my behaviour. But my paranoia only intensified with each night that passed. I couldn¡¯t accept that I had somehow been reincarnated into the body of another. To anyone else, it would have been a great reward for a life of good deeds, but I was nothing more than a cold-blooded killer. Why would I, of all people, be rewarded with a comfortable second chance? There was a catch. I knew it. I was waiting for the second when the blade dropped onto my neck.

    As a young child, it was easy to plead ignorance on many subjects. I wasn¡¯t expected to know much of anything. The gaps could be papered over by fluttering my eyes and pretending to have forgotten. The long and short of it was that I was named Maria Walston-Carter. I was a noble girl of eleven years. I lived with my father, who ran a successful mining business. My mother was deceased. The other branches of our family had roots and interests in many other industries and political matters.

    ¡®Noble¡¯ was a title that had lost a certain amount of significance in the years preceding my birth. A revolutionary wave had swept through the newly formed Walser Republic, spurred by similar occurrences in neighbouring nations. Rights and equality were the languages of the day. The intentions were pure but the reality was much harsher. The political and economic power was still concentrated in the hands of a select few. Old families like mine had incredible sway. Still, the foundations of a modern legal system had been instituted, and a newly formed parliament passed laws under the authority of a First Minister.

    Anything more than that was purely for my own interest. I read about neighbouring nations and continued to sneak into the library to further my integration. There was a lot to study. I ensured that the most relevant information was prioritised. I needed to know about recent history such as the disempowerment of the monarchy. Even young children would learn about these things through interactions with their relatives.

    True to my father¡¯s word, magic was also something of a big deal. It was an innate power that people were born with the capacity to use, but required lengthy and expensive tutoring to master. Magic was a status symbol amongst the elite. It was formerly used for industrial processes pre-mechanization, with applications in medicine, craftsmanship and combat. Many of those families made their fortunes that way. The arrival of machines that could spread the benefits without need of a trained mage had tipped the balance of power. Some families adapted and became even wealthier by investing early, most others drowned with the tide by refusing to move on.

    It was all very visual novel.

    In fact, with the benefit of more information and time to think ¨C I had uncovered a deeply buried memory of a visual novel I had played many years ago, which bared a significant resemblance to the world I was now in. Maria Walston-Carter was the primary antagonist from the game ¡®Love Revolution,¡¯ a romance and drama focused release from several years ago. It was a pastiche of different clich¨¦s and ideas paved over with a heavy dosage of true to life industrial revolution. I didn¡¯t think much of it; filing it away into the furthest recesses of my memory for later. It was my greatest shame that I indulged in them so much during my free time. Every genre, every developer, every target audience. I played as many of them as I could. A few were even worth the time and effort. That immense library of different experiences had become merged together with time, which was why I didn¡¯t immediately realise who I was.

    Remembering any specifics about each route was a lost cause. I just couldn¡¯t get a grasp on what was true and what came from other games. Regardless, Maria¡¯s sole purpose in life was to make the protagonist¡¯s life a miserable experience. As the villain, she was also subjected to several strangely morbid endings ranging from imprisonment to death. I wasn¡¯t so interested in tormenting a complete stranger with class-based bullying. I just needed to stay the course and keep out of trouble. As for adjusting to my new identity ¨C there was little issue. I found it strange that whatever had sent me here went to the effort of ensuring my comfort within a new, female body; but did not bless me with the knowledge to navigate the world I was placed into. Looking into a mirror didn¡¯t summon a sense of deep discordance. There was an acceptance in my mind that this girl was me, and always had been me.

    The only theory I had was that my existing personality was important to the reason I was here. Or perhaps some kind of freak coincidence had caused my soul to be reincarnated into a new body, or further still ¨C this was all the incomprehensible delusion of a man bleeding to death in a hotel lobby. Only my mind could come up with something this esoteric. I kept myself quiet for the most part, fearful of stepping out of place and revealing my real background to the people around me.

    Maria, if she was a ¡®real¡¯ person before my untimely arrival, was not the talkative type. The servants who attended to my every need did not find anything strange about my behaviour. I did find it disquieting to have people watching over me at nearly all times of day ¨C but they at least respected my occasional requests for privacy while I was studying in my room or the library.

    I was also a lonesome figure. My Father was planning to send me off to earn an education at the Royal Academy in a nearby city, but as for the matter of a social life, I did not have any to speak of. I pieced together that the most I could expect were prearranged meetings with the children of other noble families, and always under the supervision of an older individual. I had no friends and allies to rely on. That was just fine by me. I made a living as an assassin without needing help, after all.

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    As the days and weeks passed by, I started to grow increasingly paranoid. While most would feel secure after a long period of peace. I was different. I was a man who had spent his entire life dancing a fine line. I¡¯d committed many heinous crimes with full awareness of what they were and the consequences of those same acts. The thought of being rewarded for them with a karmic reincarnation was not acceptable, it would not settle into my mind no matter how hard I tried to push it down.

    Weren¡¯t the reincarnated meant to be good people? Ones with qualities that were desired within their new world? Heroism, kindness, selflessness ¨C they were things I was never given a chance to practise. If I was meant to have a grand purpose, I hoped that it wasn¡¯t something that relied on me making the right decisions. I was no good at that. If anything, I could see myself fitting firmly into the role of the villainess.

    I looked the part, with menacing red eyes, sharp brows and a high birth that gave me wealth and influence. But it was hard to imagine myself falling into that role. It required a sense of malice that I just couldn¡¯t muster towards a group of strangers. A villainess was always there to antagonise the innocent protagonist for initially flimsy reasons. I may be a killer, but that wasn¡¯t indicative of how I behaved in my everyday life.

    It was a popular misconception that someone who killed for a living was touched in the head. That may have been true for a serial killer, but I was a professional. Soldiers and assassins are similar in some ways ¨C and the most important aspect is their mental fortitude. A psychopath isn¡¯t a good soldier. They could ignore all of the things they saw and did easily, but when it came time for empathy or rational decision-making, they were ultimately left compromised.

    For an assassin like me it was even more essential that I kept a hold of my faculties. A lot of my work involved careful social engineering, working my way into places I wasn¡¯t meant to be. Someone with no empathy, understanding or restraint would expose themselves very quickly, and that was before they came to the act of killing someone and trying to get away with it.

    Making things personal was a no-go. Even when the people I was taking out were the worst scum in the world, I stopped myself from getting angry as I looked over their respective offences. It was essential that I gave myself a way out if things weren¡¯t looking good. It was a job. Nobody ever enjoys working a job where they run the risk of dying every day. Getting too invested in delivering some perverse sense of ¡®justice¡¯ was a one-way ticket to hell.

    That sense of perspective was important to me. It made sure that I never fell too deep down a rabbit hole from which I could not escape afterwards. I was a bad person at the end of it all, a man who killed for money. Even my self-imposed rules about who I killed and how weren¡¯t enough to fill me with a sense of righteousness. Remember the names and the faces. Always remember names and faces. I was proud to say that I had never once killed someone on accident. I was extremely thorough in my preparation and casework.

    But when I put it like that, it sounded pretty crazy.

    Some people moved boxes, other people enforced the law, some used their bodies to please others ¨C and I killed people. Nobody would ever be able to reach an understanding with me. A lot of folks didn¡¯t want to believe that genuine, real life assassins could exist in the first place. It sounded like something out of an action movie. The reality was a little different to what they imagined. Ninety percent of my jobs were done without using firearms, and the ones that did rarely led to me being caught and forced into a firefight.

    If that were to happen, I¡¯d come out the winner anyway. Until I didn¡¯t. The police had always tried to keep a bead on me. I used a lot of different tricks to hide my identity and create plausible deniability. I never expected them to host a sting the way they did. They didn¡¯t try to protect the man I was sent after at all. They let him die and gunned me down once I tried to run.

    There was no point in ruminating about it. It was exactly what I expected to happen. Someone couldn¡¯t continue to flout the laws of the land so openly without anticipating punishment. The only real surprise was how long I had managed to do it. Maybe my final lapse in concentration came about as a result of complacency. I slammed my book shut and stood up, stretching out my body and yawning loudly.

    I had been reading for almost the entire day again. My Father believed I was being studious for the sake of passing the entry exam, which was only partly true. I was completely ignorant as to the history, traditions and culture of the nation I had been teleported to. My new body came with some other caveats that I had learned about in detail over the weeks since my arrival. For one thing; it was nowhere near as strong as my old one. That sounded obvious considering the transition between a fully-grown man who worked out and a girl below the age of thirteen, but living through it was another matter.

    My mind was still stuck in the old ways. I¡¯d try to lift something heavy and find myself stumped. I¡¯d run down the halls of the grand mansion we lived in and tire myself out within moments. My paranoia demanded action. If the worst were to happen, my body would not be ready to defend itself. In my eyes, it was practically an inevitability that karma would demand payment from me for my sins. After a long day of reading up on what I needed to know, I would head away from prying eyes and train my body as well. Actual gym equipment was too much to ask for, but makeshift methods could be just as effective if you know what you¡¯re doing.

    In particular, a shaded grove near the east side of the gardens. A set of chopped logs for burning had been placed there in storage. They were compact and heavy enough to provide my arms with a good lifting workout. After that was done, I¡¯d run until my legs couldn¡¯t move anymore. Returning to the house ¨C some of the staff would give me a strange look as they noticed my haggard breathing and sweat-drenched face. They wrote it off as me playing as any child would. All of that hard work on plausible deniability when I was an assassin; turning back the clock and becoming a child would have been so much easier.

 Chapter 4

    The school term was divided into three-thirds of four months, with two-week holidays between each. The newly instituted revolutionary calendar of the Republic was much the same as the traditional one, with slight modifications to terminology to consolidate what had become a complex web of linguistic differences. While it had infamously caused a brawl on the floor of the Republican Parliament ¨C most regular people were not so invested in the debate.

    Samantha was well versed in the passing of the seasons. Much of her young life was dictated by the ticking of the clock. The harvest season was always at the forefront of her family¡¯s mind, with everything they did revolving around making the most efficient use of their time. When their livelihoods depended on the weather, it was only natural. But now she didn¡¯t have to worry about such things. The morning wake-up call was practically luxurious compared to her usual waking hour of five in the morning.

    It was going to be a difficult adjustment. All of her knowledge and experience with tending to animals and crops, and the myriad complexities involved in doing so, were now useless in an academic context. Samantha was a vanguard of the newly developing lower-middle class. A hard-working collection of businessmen and farmers who wanted their children to fulfil long-held ambitions. The Royal Academy had recognised the importance of that experience. An effective leader was one who understood their purpose inside and out.

    It was with some debate that Samantha earned one of the scholarship spots in the new year. A large portion of the bill for her education would be covered by the academy itself. All of the hard work, studying in the twilight hours of the evening as her mind attempted to shut down, was finally paying off. She was going to make the most out of this opportunity while she had it.

    She flopped back onto her new bed and marvelled at the quality of the space she had been given. Her farmhouse home was nothing to complain about, but she was now understanding just how much difference some polish and decoration could really make. The polished skirting boards, plush rug underfoot, and ornate wooden furniture were enough to make her feel like a fairy tale princess. Her bed was gigantic, not at all concerned with preserving floorspace for siblings or storage. Suddenly the bag of clothes she had brought with her for the weekends seemed much smaller. The wardrobe wasn¡¯t even half full.

    There was little time to concern herself with that. They had been given just a few minutes to become familiar with their rooms before the next step of the initiation process, from which they would be assigned to their classes. The first year at the academy was intended to allow the students to explore a wide range of subjects ¨C so there was no need to make a serious commitment to one area of study just yet. Samantha wasn¡¯t certain where she would end up. Part of her wanted to get away from the family business and break out into a new field, her brothers were much more enthused about inheriting the farm one day, or at least buying one of their own.

    With her luggage unloaded and her key retrieved, Samantha straightened out her hair and returned to the hallway. Other students had started to do the same, lining up by their respective doorways and awaiting the return of the teacher. Samantha¡¯s eyes were drawn to Maria once again, who was located just across the hall from her. Samantha had to admire how pretty she was; she was every bit the noble lady she had imagined from reading stories about the city. Her black braids were distinctive, deftly weaving together something cute and sophisticated. Samantha¡¯s shoulder-length locks were not so cooperative. She had tried in earnest to grow it out once before, but the texture simply wasn¡¯t conducive to such intense styling.

    The frumpy old teacher returned, her long heels clacking against the marble floor with each step. She scanned the assembled children with a nod of approval; ¡°I see that everyone is already done inspecting their quarters. Please remember to treat them, and your neighbours, with the same respect that you would like to receive in return. Sleeping hours begin at eight in the evening ¨C students who do not observe the curfew and cause a ruckus will be punished appropriately.¡±

    There was a murmur of uneasy agreement from the rowdier boys. With that warning dispensed, the teacher turned on her heel and waved to the group to follow behind her. Samantha slid into the line, not paying any particular attention as to where she would end up. Maria slotted in front of her. Samantha held her tongue as they were led on a long walk back the way they came, across the campus and towards the school wing. The two functions of the compound were harshly separated down the middle. The balance was pushed in favour of the classrooms as only a limited number of students were to be admitted.

    The classes themselves would be tightly knit ¨C with numbers no larger than fifteen or so students between each tutor. Oddly, the lecture theatres that had been constructed to handle a much larger figure were left mostly unused as a result. It was within one of those larger rooms that the initiated students were asked to take a seat. An elevated wooden platform allowed everyone to see the chalk board and podium that dominated the front wall. The troublemakers immediately tried to sit at the very back so as to hide their mischief, but the teacher was not going to let that slide.

    ¡°Everyone to the front, please. I don¡¯t want to destroy my vocal cords yelling at you.¡±

    Another groan of protest. A gaggle of five returned and slipped into the third row from the front. Samantha sat on the edge of the second, while Maria sat on her right on the opposite side. When the teacher was certain that everyone had settled down, she cleared her throat and started to write some important details onto the board with a piece of white chalk.

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    ¡°I¡¯d like to extend my own personal welcome to all of you. You are some of the best and brightest young minds that this great country has to offer. I hope that you all understand what an amazing opportunity this is, and that you¡¯ll make every effort to get the most out of it.¡±

    As her hands moved deftly, they slowly revealed the full scope of what she was writing down. It was a list of the different subjects that they would be dabbling in for the next year. Mathematics, language, art, biology, chemistry, physics, music, and magic. They were generalised courses meant to provide an overview of what they could expect from more advanced derivatives.

    Miss Marside picked up a piece of paper from the desk, ¡°Without further ado, I¡¯d like to assign you to your classes for the first year. The list has already been compiled. I will read it now, please keep your assigned number in mind.¡±

    She started running down the list in alphabetical order, dispensing numbers in a seemingly calculated manner. Samantha was placed into class two along with Maria Walston-Carter. There was a lot of disquiet from the admirers who would not have the benefit of being with her during their lessons. Samantha pondered why she had enraptured them so. She was certainly pretty and from an influential family, but devoting your entire being to stalking her around the campus did not seem like a good strategy for befriending the girl.

    ¡°One last thing before I send you away to familiarise yourself with the building ¨C there will be a magic compatibility trial in this room three hours from now. If you wish to participate in the magic course and learn from our experts, you will need to attend and be subjected to an initial test. Please keep that in mind!¡± Miss Marside clapped her hands together; ¡°Dismissed.¡±

    The room burst into a frantic discussion as all of the chatter that had been bottled up was unleashed at once. Samantha was already being stuck with indecision. ¡°Oh, we have to choose?¡± she gasped. Her self-directed question was answered by a masculine voice walking up behind her from the third row.

    ¡°Nothing like that. The magic course is elective,¡± one of the other students explained. He was a tall boy with moss green hair and darker skin. ¡°Dedicated Magic Colleges require that entrants demonstrate their ability before they¡¯re accepted ¨C but the Royal Institute is also a school for science, technology and art. They want to see if you have the capacity to do it first before letting you into the course.¡±

    Samantha peered upwards at him, ¡°Oh! I see. It¡¯s a special exception.¡±

    He offered a practised smile, ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯m Maxwell Abdah.¡±

    Samantha tried to remember her manners; ¡°Samantha Easton, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡±

    He leaned against the wooden bannister and sighed, ¡°It¡¯s not going to be a very big class anyway. My Father says that only one in fifty people have any magical abilities at all. Don¡¯t feel bad if you don¡¯t get in. Most of us won¡¯t.¡±

    One of the girls behind butted in, ¡°Lady Maria will.¡±

    Maxwell shrugged, ¡°Okay, but who asked?¡±

    Maria was just about the only thing that the other students were willing to speak about. In a strange way she had become the number one icebreaking topic within hours of arriving, and the battle lines were being drawn between her helpless admirers and most ardent haters. Everyone had to have a well-developed opinion or they were excluded from the raging debates about how good she was at any given task or subject.

    Maxwell had zero need of joining in. He had seen dozens of similar girls, passed through his manor house like the seasons. Some of them had hoped to become his fianc¨¦ for the sake of securing a future for their respective families. Not one had ever elicited his young love. At least Maria herself seemed to find the entire thing as droll as he did. She treated everyone with a terse patience that the socially unaware took as enraptured interest. Those gritted teeth and glassed-over eyes were all too familiar to him.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look like the usual kind of student,¡± Maxwell theorised, ¡°Are you one of the scholarship picks?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I am.¡±

    ¡°Heh. You must be pretty smart then. Don¡¯t let them drag you under if they get jealous, Samantha. They¡¯re here because of money, just like me.¡±

    Samantha was curious; ¡°What does your family do?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re a big trading family. Shipping stuff across the sea, buying and selling, that kind of thing. My Grandfather decided to settle here in the republic before I was born because of how big the ports were. The perfect environment for the family business.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s very impressive! My father owns a farm,¡± Samantha revealed. It felt much less significant than her new acquaintance¡¯s background. But Maxwell wasn¡¯t so judgemental as she first thought.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with that. If you put my Father in that position he wouldn¡¯t know what to do. Everybody has something that they¡¯re good at. Farming, trading, mining, knitting ¨C that kind of thing.¡±

    ¡°Do you have anything in mind that you would like to study?¡±

    ¡°No, not at the moment. I¡¯ll probably end up following in my family¡¯s footsteps and go pursue something that¡¯ll help our business.¡± Maxwell was a naturally helpful young man. Considerations of class or precedent were often ignored in favour of doing what he thought was right. In a sense, speaking with Samantha was his way of helping her ingratiate herself with the notoriously picky upper classes that dominated the school body. There was a more ulterior motive though. Maxwell found himself struck by how attractive he found her. She had a different air to all of the other girls he had met since arriving.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll go and try the magic course,¡± Samantha concluded. It had always interested her, and there was no harm in trying. All she needed was to be born with the capability to transmit the energy through her body to get started.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s going to be pretty busy this year. Lady Maria is rumoured to be attending as well, so all of her little followers are going to try and join too.¡± Maxwell glanced at the girls in the third row, who were sending a dirty look his way thanks to his dismissive comment. ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid to come speak with me if you need anything.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, I will.¡±

    Maxwell had somewhere to be. He gave Samantha a wave and headed out through the classroom door to parts unknown.

 Chapter 5

    A few hours later, the rest of the students had settled into their respective cliques and Samantha was starting to feel left out in the cold. She was unfamiliar with everyone in the building and her country upbringing was bound to cause some to reject her out of hand, without even speaking a word to her. She could only hope that a miracle would occur as she headed towards the voluntary magic assessment. Her prayers were answered in part as she entered the classroom and saw Maxwell waving to her. He was sitting with another male student who was much taller than any of the others. Samantha made her way over and sat next to him on the third row.

    ¡°Samantha, glad to see you decided to take a chance on this.¡±

    ¡°My Father worked hard to send me here, so I intended to make the most of it.¡±

    Maxwell tapped the shoulder of his companion; ¡°This is Claudius. He¡¯s a bit of a dummy, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get along just fine.¡±

    ¡°Hey! No need to insult me when introducing me to a pretty girl, Max!¡±

    He rolled his eyes and leaned closer, ¡°He¡¯s a terrible flirt too.¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to his compliment, ¡°Uh, it¡¯s very nice to meet you.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure it all mine. I¡¯m Claudius Wile, but feel free to call me Claude.¡±

    ¡°I hope the school is treating you well. Some of these people can be really judgemental if you don¡¯t fit in the right way,¡± Maxwell sighed. ¡°My older brother used to come here and it doesn¡¯t look like things have gotten any better.¡±

    Claudius shrugged, ¡°My Pa said the same thing. It comes with the territory. Everyone here thinks they¡¯re competing against one another.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because they are, Claude. If you want to claw your way up the social standing and land a nice, comfortable job in the capital ¨C you need to stand out and tear down the other people around you. Thank goodness I already have something lined up on the opposite side if things don¡¯t go well...¡±

    ¡°Like Maria Walston-Carter?¡±

    ¡°Ugh, not you too.¡±

    Claude waved his arms in an attempt to ward away Maxwell¡¯s scorn, ¡°No, no. I don¡¯t mean that I¡¯m obsessed with her like everyone else is. I just mean, she¡¯s the kind of girl who¡¯d do something like that.¡±

    ¡°Now who¡¯s being judgemental? You don¡¯t know anything about her.¡±

    ¡°Hm. She seemed a little scary earlier,¡± Samantha admitted, recalling the incident in the front garden.

    Claudius clutched his heart theatrically, ¡°A scoundrel, a menace, a villainess - even! Where others see a classical beauty, I see the eyes of a cold-hearted killer.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been reading too many detective novels, Claude,¡± Maxwell grumbled. He was always awash with wild theories about other people. He¡¯d already aired his ¡®well-reasoned¡¯ suspicions about one of the janitorial staff because of a limp affecting his left leg. Claude was convinced that he¡¯d injured it on a piece of broken glass during a botched criminal activity.

    Claude was insistent, ¡°Surely, they include those kinds of characters for a reason, Max!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not real!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re based on true stories.¡±

    ¡°They just say that to sell more copies! You dullard.¡±

    Another voice cut through the lively argument; ¡°I was not aware that I made such a negative impression.¡±

    Claudius squealed and leapt halfway to the rafters like a startled cat. Standing in the doorway to the classroom was the very subject of their discussion ¨C Maria Walston-Carter. She cut a striking figure, but that was quickly undercut by the way her face twisted after seeing Claude¡¯s reaction. Her boundless mirth at striking such fear into the boy was enough to elicit an uncharacteristic round of uproarious laughter. Maria tried in vain to cover her mouth and contain it ¨C but it was hopeless.

    ¡°Ohohohoho!¡±

    Claudius flushed a bright, rose-red colour as a girl almost half his height mocked him so openly. Samantha and Maxwell did not judge Maria for finding the sight amusing. The hopeful detective had presented himself as nothing more than a circus sideshow on this occasion. Maria snapped back to her usual, serious persona with an awkward cough and wagged an irritated finger at him.

    ¡°It¡¯s very unbecoming to gossip about someone behind their back, you know!¡±

    Claudius was downcast, ¡°Augh. Apologies, Lady Carter.¡±

    ¡°Maria will do just fine, thank you.¡±

    Up close and personal, Samantha drank in the small details that she hadn¡¯t had the chance to see back in the courtyard. Maria was stunning. She had wide, ruby eyes and perfectly curled locks that were black like pitch coal. She wore one of the school-mandated uniforms with a natural confidence that made her feel green with envy. The white frilled shirt was more intended for the male students, but they came in sizes small enough for a girl ¨C and there was no real rule against using them should she wish. Combined with the black skirt, tied around her stomach with a matching leather belt, she looked ready to take on anything that the academy could throw at her.

    The other physical aspect of note was her height. Samantha was a very tall girl by most standards, which just served to make the pint-sized Maria seem even more diminutive by comparison. How Maria commanded such attention from the people around her could be credited entirely to the way she presented herself. There wasn¡¯t an ounce of hesitation or wasted movement. Samantha likened her to a rock or tree stump, ones which frequently confounded her father and his new moving machines.

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    ¡°I-I¡¯m Samantha, it¡¯s nice to meet you.¡±

    Maria smiled pleasantly and shook her hand, ¡°The pleasure is all mine.¡±

    A simple act such as that would have gone unnoticed had any other girl done it. But this was the Lady Maria, shaking hands with a lower-class farm girl. The whispers started circulating from the top row of the seating arrangement that dominated the back half of the chamber like storm clouds.

    ¡°Did you see that? Maria shook hands with her...¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s so polite!¡±

    ¡°My sister would never do something like that.¡±

    Samantha felt pins and needles running down her back. Those kinds of words made her feel an unusual sense of shame. Once again, the differences between her upbringing and theirs was thrown around with little regard for her own feelings. Did coming from a hard-working agricultural family really make her such a pariah?

    Maria sensed that something was wrong. ¡°Pay them no mind. Good manners are not something afforded exclusively to those of wealth.¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°Ah! We¡¯re actually very well off, for a farming family. My father was able to pay for part of my tuition after all.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then I believe that your work ethic will surely silence them in time.¡±

    With that, Maria moved past the small group of acquaintances and took a seat on the row behind them. A textbook was retrieved from her bag and placed down onto the desk. The entire class watched in abject adoration as she went about the mundanities of attending school.

    Maxwell spoke under his breath, ¡°Heaven¡¯s above. She lives on a completely different planet to the rest of us.¡±

    Samantha was confused, ¡°You said your family was very wealthy too.¡±

    ¡°They are ¨C but the Walston-Carter family is leagues above us even. They provide a majority of the raw materials for every business and factory from here to the East Coast. I overheard my Father talking about them. They could buy our entire trading empire three times over and have money left to spare.¡±

    ¡°Then she must have a large amount of responsibility on her shoulders,¡± Samantha concluded.

    ¡°It¡¯s not just that. She was the top entrant in every exam, every subject. Her looks are evident, and I heard that she won a pheasant shooting contest last year against a full roster of experienced adult competitors. The local papers accused her of cheating.¡±

    ¡°Shooting?¡± Samantha echoed, ¡°Why would she enjoy shooting?¡± It was a sport primarily dominated by men. Her Father had recently become fascinated with the concept himself. It was a much easier way of warding away pests than scarecrows and harsh words. He purchased his own gun and took much joy in deafening her while she was trying to study. She did not enjoy it anywhere near as much as he did.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But anything she does, she does with the single-minded intent of winning. There¡¯s no way her parents will say no to her. She can pick up a shotgun and blow a bird out of the sky if she wants to because she¡¯s Maria Walston-Carter. That¡¯s all that matters.¡±

    It was the kind of rank exceptionalism that a group of gossip-filled teenagers would inevitably subscribe to. Maria¡¯s legend had grown out of her own control. The reputation and wealth of her family, combined with her gifts in every art she studied were a heady combination that tale weavers simply could not resist. Not a single one of those people would dare put those theories to the test and ask her if they were true, and thus they continued to snowball to larger and more absurd forms without control or remorse.

    Samantha just couldn¡¯t imagine such a tiny, doll-like persona holding a gun. To think that her Father would even permit her to participate in something so dangerous in the first place. Samantha¡¯s Father had damn nearly broken his nose the first time he pulled the trigger. It took him weeks to learn how to control the recoil. She shook her head. She couldn¡¯t believe such a claim without firm evidence. It could have been created and passed around by any one of the students without her knowledge. Still ¨C it was an amusing thing to theorise about. The poor girl would be launched backwards for several yards just from the force of the shot.

    The class was really starting to become rowdy as more and more people came through the door. Maria¡¯s attendance had elicited the interest of her newly formed fanclub, meaning there was nary a seat left to be taken. One of those new attendees sought to make as much of an impact as possible, as an aggressive looking boy with red hair and a permanent scowl on his face stormed through the door and immediately locked onto where Maria was seated. While Maria was quietly reading through a book she had taken from the library, he yelled at the top of his lungs.

    ¡°Maria Walston-Carter, I knew I¡¯d find you here!¡±

    Maria made no motion to look up and observe. She flipped to another page and continued to read. Unable to comprehend anyone in the room not hearing him, he repeated himself in much the same fashion.

    ¡°Maria Walston-Carter, I knew I¡¯d find you here!¡±

    Maxwell shouted back, ¡°She heard you the first time, you damnable blowhard!¡±

    His name was Adrian Roderro ¨C and he was Maria¡¯s (self-declared) rival. He swaggered up to the stands and marched up the steps until he was face to face with her. Despite her best efforts to ignore him, she could no longer do so with him in such close proximity. With a grimace, she slammed her tome shut and glared at him with daggers for eyes.

    ¡°So, the erudite daughter of the Walston family sees fit to try her hand at the magic arts? Surely, it¡¯d be a better use of your time to surrender, as I will confound you with my skill and power. Better salvage your reputation while you have the chance; nobody will think worse of you for giving up now.¡±

    Maria remained silent, as did the rest of the chamber. Tension was starting to build. The rest of the attendees were starting to understand that Maria was unflappable. She didn¡¯t even flinch as he tried to get into her personal space with bombast and flying spittle.

    ¡°You may have bested me at shooting, but I assure you that this particular contest will end in my favour.¡±

    Maria tilted her head slightly, ¡°Apologies, have I offended you in some way ¨C Adam?¡±

    ¡°Adrian, it¡¯s Adrian Roderro!¡± Adrian¡¯s face was bright red from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. How could she not remember him? He was the person standing beside her when she won that trophy! The trophy that was rightfully his! There was simply no possible way by which a mere girl could outperform him in the art of pheasant shooting.

    Maria laughed, ¡°Ohoho, Adrian! That was your name! Apologies ¨C you were so unremarkable that I expunged you from my memory. There¡¯s so much for me to remember these days after all.¡± Samantha winced as Maria went for the throat with an insult custom designed to make the hot-headed boy as furious as humanly possible. She clearly remembered him and was trying to wind him up. He sputtered and stammered, finger wobbling impotently as he tried to come up with an appropriate response. Maria delivered the coup de grace in short order.

    ¡°If your magic abilities are as good as your shooting, I don¡¯t have anything to worry about.¡± She reopened the book and turned away, having said her piece with such a firm resolve that it had short-circuited Adrian¡¯s brain. She could see the steam coming from his ears. He walked back down to the second row and collapsed into one of the remaining seats with glazed eyes and a catatonic mumble. Vicious. A complete contrast to the politeness Samantha had experienced just moments before.

    Max laughed and jeered, ¡°I¡¯ve seen no less than five people walk up and ask for her hand in marriage in the last hour, and they all received a warmer response than whatever that was.¡±

    ¡°See, I was right! She nearly killed him,¡± Claude declared.

    ¡°Perhaps she wouldn¡¯t have to be so mean if he hadn¡¯t been so rude,¡± Samantha responded, eliciting positive concurrences from the spectators. Her head was starting to hurt just from the racket of him busting into the room. She leaned back in her seat and tried to calm down.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be getting into any arguments with her,¡± Maxwell said.

    The matter was put to bed soon enough - it was almost time for the test to start.

 Chapter 6

    What a damned mess.

    No matter how hard I tried, it was almost impossible for me to keep a low profile. For whatever reason, I had become something of a local celebrity. A tangled web of rumour and reputation building had created a false impression of me that had been broadcast much further than I had ever expected it to go. Several female students had appointed themselves as my self declared fanclub ¨C further exaggerating my supposed beauty and grace. The years preceding my arrival at the academy were spent studying those things to further my disguise, but the idea that I was somehow better at it than everyone else was ludicrous. There were only so many ways to use the right cutlery during a meal.

    Everywhere I went there were people talking about me, or trying to approach me. I had no less than four different boys propose to me on the spot during the morning. What was I expected to say in such a scenario? I stared blankly at them until they lost their nerve and ran away. Things were finally starting to become more familiar to me. The gilded halls, tall windows and lavish paintings took me back to the days when I happily played every visual novel and dating simulator I could get my hands on. I never thought much of ¡®Love Revolution¡¯ when I finished it ¨C it had now taken on more significance in retrospect by its apparent realisation as a place I could go to physically.

    In terms of visual novel plots, it was rather tame. The primary focus was on the main character, Samantha, being the apple of every boy¡¯s eye thanks to her country charm and innocent looks. There were some minor conflicts between the characters as they strived to be the top of their class, and some rumblings about saving the world in the future; something left hanging for a potential sequel. My role was to be the villain. Her nemesis. A petulant, spoilt child who existed solely to take the opposite position on every issue. The exact reasoning behind Maria¡¯s hatred of Samantha was irrelevant. It was an expression of class-based resentment that was more extreme than I would have ever predicted. I was not going to do that. I was not going to be hoisted by my own petard. I was going to keep myself out of her personal space for as long as humanly possible.

    I had decided to entertain myself a little and sign up for the magic course. Magic was something that didn¡¯t exist in my old world, so I was curious as to what it could be used for. At the very least it would provide an interesting diversion from studying the other subjects like science and maths. It was only when I spotted Samantha sitting in the front row with some of the boys from earlier that I remembered she was also going to try out. In the game, she was immediately identified as a high-level mage, as was Maria. That made them the perfect foils for each other.

    I took a lonesome seat on the other side of the bleachers and sat myself down. I could already hear the other students whispering all kinds of lukewarm rumours about me. It made my skin break out into goosebumps. I never liked being the centre of attention, but I couldn¡¯t avoid it. Maria Walston-Carter had taken on a life of her own without my input. Hitting that boy with a rock didn¡¯t help. I was already ruing my past self for taking such a conspicuous course of action.

    I had already met several of the characters from the game, including Samantha, Maxwell, Claudius, and Adrian. They were all intended to express a romantic interest in Samantha. Maxwell was the easiest and usually the first route that a player would take so they could learn some of the mechanics. Of course, I already knew Adrian well. He was a regular on the shooting circuit. In the game, Adrian wasn¡¯t so confrontational with Maria ¨C and that was because the original Maria did not partake in his favourite pastime as I did.

    Humbling the kid with my amazing aim was something I took great satisfaction in. He had been one of my most vocal detractors when I went to my first meeting. He had run his mouth for nearly an hour straight, implying that I wasn¡¯t strong enough to hold the gun and that my finger would snap in two before I managed to make the thing fire. He couldn¡¯t have been more incorrect. I had already trained my body to an athletic standard that outstripped any other girl my age. I didn¡¯t win the contest, but hitting several targets was enough to make him shut his mouth for the first time in years.

    It may have lit a competitive fire inside of him. Every time we faced each other, he¡¯d make big boasts about how much he¡¯d been practising since the last time we met. Every time I would humble him in much the same manner, earning accolades and trophies that made him ooze with barely constrained jealousy. Such an issue of skill was his to resolve. But a part of me regretted getting involved with him in the first place, because now I knew that he was going to be an irritating piece of dung for the five years in which we were to attend the academy.

    The stuffy old men who had initially claimed that shooting was too dangerous for a girl to handle had gone through a similar process of resentment. They¡¯d grown out of it in time ¨C at least under the impression that my inclusion into the sport was an exception rather than a sign of things to come. My Father had also resisted at first, but as soon as he saw how many prizes I was winning while doing it, his prideful nature won out and he became my biggest supporter. My musings on the course of events were cut short by the arrival of our magic tutor. She was a pretty-looking woman with ginger hair and a beauty mark above her lip. The long dress she wore was covered in frills and ribbons.

    ¡°Good evening everyone! My name is Malorie Jennings, and I¡¯m one of the two magic tutors who work here at the royal academy. I¡¯m very happy to see so many students interested in learning the art with us.¡±

    Of course, she was completely unaware that the reason for such a large turnout was my presence.

    ¡°Before we begin, I¡¯d like to explain the process we¡¯ll undergo here today. There are several different grades of mage registered officially by the Government, which are roughly correlated with their ability. They run from grade one at the low end, to grade five at the highest. Any level at two or above is enough to qualify for the magical elective course that we offer.¡±

    She pointed to the blackboard, ¡°Grade one mages are those born with the natural compatibility to perform magic, though they are not capable of generating enough energy to do so without help. They are often referred to as ¡®conducers¡¯ for this reason. At grade two, the individual becomes capable of generating enough energy to manipulate the natural laws themselves.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    She moved to the second row on the pyramid, ¡°Practitioners at all levels require a high level of general knowledge. To manipulate the laws, one must understand the laws. Knowing which elements must be manipulated to achieve the desired effect is the basis of all magecraft. Do not trick yourself into believing that your grade defines your final capability. Some of the most brilliant mages in history were only grade two. The power of your magic is directly connected to the efforts you put forth in learning it.¡±

    With that brief explanation done ¨C she moved over to a wheeled cart that stood next to the podium. She pulled away a white blanket and revealed what hid beneath. It was a steel box covered in moving needles, connected to a leather arm strap and small metal plates.

    ¡°This is a compatibility tester, based on principles established thousands of years ago. We can use this to grade you quickly and painlessly. All you need to do is slip your arm into this shackle. A small amount of energy will be moved through your body, which we can use to measure your power.¡±

    She demonstrated for us, wrapping the leather cuff around her bicep and tightening it. It reminded me of a blood pressure machine. She flipped a switch and the machine hummed to life. The needle on the left stuttered into motion, eventually coming to a halt beside the number three printed onto the white screen.

    ¡°I am a grade three mage, as you can see here. There is no guarantee that you will have magical capability. Regardless ¨C the first step to mastery is attending this session. There is nothing to be ashamed of if you are not in grade two. The march of time is opening many new doors for people without knowledge of magecraft.¡±

    With the preamble done with, it was time for her to start working her way down the list of attendees. She simply picked out individuals from each row of the bleachers, bringing them to the front and using the measuring device on their bodies. It quickly became apparent that the ability to use magic was rare indeed. Several people were eliminated at grade one, leaving the room despondently. She then came to me. The whispers started again as I made my way to the front. I already knew what compatibility score Maria had in the game. As the villainess, she needed to be a cut above everyone else to support her smug personality.

    I reluctantly offered my arm to the eccentric woman, who happily wrapped the leather around my arm. She didn¡¯t waste any time with theatrics ¨C as there were three dozen more students to get through in short order. The machine roared once again. I turned to face it and watched the dial as it crept higher and higher. I could already hear the other kids getting excited as I broached the fourth-grade mark and then kept going. I almost rolled my eyes as it hit grade five.

    Only the best for Lady Walston-Carter...

    Mrs Jennings was gobsmacked; ¡°Well I never! Grade five! Very impressive, Miss Carter.¡±

    There was nothing impressive about it. I bowed to the instructor and headed back to my seat. Some of the more infatuated members of the audience applauded me for my great feat of being born with magic running through my body. To the spectators my expression was unreadable ¨C it wasn¡¯t radiating with a smug pride like they were expecting. I picked up my book and went back to reading.

    To make a long story short Adrian scraped by with a grade two, which did not make him a happy man. He couldn¡¯t storm out because the teacher had more to say once the testing was over. Maxwell passed with a grade three, as did Claudius. An unfamiliar girl also earned a third. The last person to catch my attention was Samantha. I could sense a nervous excitement coming from her as she slipped her arm into the machine¡¯s clutches and waited to see where she lay. Grade four. Some of the dour students who had said unkind words about her were outraged, spreading malicious rumours about the machine being faulty. In their eyes, there was no way that a farm girl could be gifted with such a talent.

    With the last stragglers cleared out and a full class of six assembled, Mrs Jennings clapped her hands together. ¡°What an amazing class we have this year! I haven¡¯t had the privilege of teaching so many in a long, long time. There is just one last thing I¡¯d like to do before letting you go and rest.¡± She handed out a set of books, entitled ¡®Introduction to Magical Theory, Vol 1.¡¯ I inspected the inside cover briefly, before deciding to take a closer look in my own room later. I didn¡¯t like studying with a broiling mass of masculine rage glaring at me from across the way.

    ¡°I¡¯d like you all to read the first two chapters of this book. It¡¯s the best possible foundation for your ongoing study, and it¡¯ll mean that we can jump right into practical lessons when we return. The position of our session on the timetable hasn¡¯t been confirmed just yet, but you¡¯ll be informed when the slot has been allocated..¡±

    Adrian was going to struggle. He didn¡¯t like reading.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to seeing you all again. Please do your best!¡±

    And with that, the class was dismissed. Adrian and the stranger were the first out of the door, but I lagged behind for a second to gather my thoughts. Before I could decide what I wanted to do next, Samantha stepped out in front of me on the stairs and started to talk to me.

    ¡°Thank you for being so nice earlier. I know it sounds rude, but I wasn¡¯t expecting you to treat me so kindly. I was hoping that we could get to know each other better, Maria.¡± Samantha punctuated her heartfelt appeal with a dazzling smile. That was too much credit to assign to my actions. My clear disinterest in bullying the fresh-faced farmer had temporarily frozen over the blood frenzy that had started at the behest of a boy named Johnathan Wilkes. I was unfortunately rather familiar with him, as his father was frequently seen skulking around our manor trying to score an arranged marriage. When I had asked where all the bad attitudes about Samantha had come from a few hours before, he was the one who was overwhelmingly pointed to as the culprit. He hadn¡¯t even spoken with her yet.

    I needed to nip this in the bud before the girl got any ideas in her head. I didn¡¯t want to be responsible for dragging someone else down with me when everything went to hell. If this was some kind of divine punishment for my deeds, then friends and family would be prime targets for retribution. None of my ¡®friends¡¯ could die if I didn¡¯t have any to begin with. All I needed to do was maintain an air of mystique that scared some, and push others away when they started to get too close to me. While I was considering this carefully, the response I went with was significantly less elegant than I had hoped it would be. The words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them.

    ¡°When did I ever give you the impression that we were friends?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°I think it would be better for the both of us if you kept your distance.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s face ran through a complex spectrum of emotions. Betrayal, sadness, anger ¨C before settling on a mournful frown. She turned on her heel and walked back to her seat without any further comment. I chastised myself for rejecting her in such an overly harsh way. That wasn¡¯t going to help my reputation any, not unless it was the type of crowd that I didn¡¯t want to mix with. There were a lot of students who wanted to put the lower classes in their place. I did not want to become their role model.

    Samantha had Maxwell and Claudius already. She didn¡¯t need a wet blanket like me. They¡¯d show her the ropes and protect her from the worst of it. I grabbed my things and headed out into the corridor with a frustrated sigh. Still ¨C what I had wanted to go with was something much easier on her feelings. I¡¯d messed it up. I just couldn¡¯t argue with the results when it was always my real intention.

    As long as she stayed away from me it was mission accomplished.

 Chapter 7

    Samantha was furious. She had never felt such an incandescent rage in her entire life. She paced back and forth in her room like a girl possessed as Maxwell and Claudius watched on from the doorway. Samantha didn¡¯t care one bit that her anger may have spilt outwards and been overheard by the girl in question.

    ¡°She¡¯s horrible, a witch, a cruel villain!¡±

    In her eyes, Claudius was right to judge her so. The more inflammatory insults she wished to air were not for polite company, like the ones that she had heard her Father shout after stabbing himself in the hand with a farm tool. Maxwell decided to intervene before she worked herself into an even more violent furore. He had been present for the confrontation ¨C but even he thought that Samantha was taking it unusually hard.

    ¡°Was it really that bad? You were speaking about how nice she was just a few hours ago.¡±

    ¡°That was before I had a chance to speak with her for real,¡± Samantha pouted. The words she had said cut deep. It was profoundly juvenile, almost as if Maria herself was not putting any real weight into them. Samantha dreaded to think what bitter truths she would utter should she have become serious. What was the reasoning behind how she acted? Samantha could not hope to understand.

    Claude was unhelpful, ¡°I heard that she doesn¡¯t have any friends.¡±

    ¡°But what about the girls who follow her everywhere?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re just fans, not friends. They want a little bit of that noble shine to rub off on them...¡±

    Maxwell didn¡¯t agree; ¡°Still ¨C even the worst people have one or two friends. The bully from my old school wasn¡¯t left wanting for company. They were like a pack of wild hounds.¡±

    Claude snapped his fingers, ¡°Maria doesn¡¯t want them. I¡¯ve heard the same story told over and over again. It doesn¡¯t matter who it is or how polite they are, she rebuffs all of them in the same way. So don¡¯t take it too personally, Sam.¡±

    Samantha kept replaying their ¡®conversation¡¯ in her head. Part of her had expected to meet rude people at the Academy. She was a country girl infringing on a place where the rich and powerful made connections. Her Father had made it clear that she¡¯d face many adverse challenges by taking this path. It had not deterred her in the slightest. But to experience it first-hand was more disturbing than she had anticipated. Maria¡¯s glare had frozen her in place and made her feel like a helpless prey animal.

    As she repeated their encounter again ¨C she attempted to view it from a different perspective. Had Maria done that intentionally to scare her away? It was true that she hadn¡¯t formed any other relationships during the first day of their education. She hadn¡¯t spoken to anyone without them speaking with her first. She didn¡¯t seek to enter into conflict with her, it only happened because Samantha thought they had something in common. She started politely, but became increasingly prickly and irritated the more she spoke ¨C and finally turned when she said she wanted to be friends. Was that the red line that Samantha could not hope to cross?  It was a dangerous place to tread. Samantha had only thanked her for the kind treatment, and that was enough to send her tumbling back down to the start.

    Max pulled on his collar, ¡°I don¡¯t think you should try to get close to her anyway. You don¡¯t want to earn the ire of the Maria army that¡¯s started forming. It¡¯s just more trouble than it¡¯s really worth.¡±

    ¡°Friends are a good thing, Max.¡±

    ¡°Sure; but do you think that Maria would have your back if something bad happened? Would she stand up for you if they started giving you trouble? If the girl says she doesn¡¯t want to deal with you, it¡¯s probably for the best.¡±

    Claudius chuckled to himself.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny, Claude?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s obvious that there¡¯s more to this girl than first meets the eye. Such a mysterious presence, a femme fatale who defies social convention and has a look that can kill! She must have some serious skeletons in her trunk. It makes my inner detective tremble with excitement.¡±

    Max covered his face, ¡°Oh, for goodness sake.¡±

    ¡°What is he talking about?¡± Samantha asked.

    ¡°Claude can¡¯t stop reading those trashy detective serials they publish in the back pages.¡±

    ¡°They are not trashy.¡±

    ¡°The ones with all of the murder, and drugs and sex, they¡¯re horrible. He kept sneaking them from under his Dad¡¯s nose and reading them without his permission. Now he thinks he¡¯s a qualified detective. When was the last time you solved a crime, Claude?¡±

    Claude opened his mouth to object but fell silent as he rewound through his entire life. ¡°W-What about that time I found out who stole the last piece of cake in elementary school?¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°That¡¯s hardly equivalent to solving a murder.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m very good at understanding people! I can tell from just a simple glance what someone is thinking.¡±

    ¡°Okay, then what am I thinking right now?¡± Maxwell queried.

    ¡°I can tell from the quirk of your brow and the movement of your lips that you are impressed with my abilities!¡±

    Max clipped him around the ear, ¡°No. I think you¡¯re making an arse of yourself, quite frankly.¡±

    Samantha giggled as the two old friends bickered in front of her. She could tell that both of them had spent a long time getting to know each other. This was the type of argument that you could only have with someone you were close to.

    Claude was not going to be beaten down by his doubt. He continued to argue his case, ¡°I¡¯m the son of a police deputy ¨C it¡¯s in my blood. My nose is finely tuned to the scent of misdoings.¡±

    ¡°Your Father works with evidence and witnesses, he isn¡¯t inferring anything based on the angle of their damned eyebrows.¡±

    ¡°Since when did you become an expert on police procedure?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not! But you should know better than I do!¡±

    This argument was going nowhere fast. There was just one problem, Samantha had already seen Maria dragging her trunk into her new dorm room and it wasn¡¯t large enough to contain a human skeleton. Samantha tuned the boys out and opened her magical theory textbook, intent on getting a head start before their first real lesson.

    <hr>

    I sighed and settled down into the armchair within my chambers. The room was the same as everyone else¡¯s, more than enough to hold everything that a teenage student would need. It was odd for me to consider that parents were willing to send their children away to live at an academy at such a young age, but then I remembered that they didn¡¯t usually spend much time looking after them in the first place. The status quo was the same whether they were at home or not.

    I still couldn¡¯t get Samantha out of my mind. A misfortune as profound as mine would surely be shared. Karma was inevitable. I was a person who had committed innumerable sins in my past life, and now I had proof that some supernatural force had brought me here. What kind of punishment was this to sally me forth into a new, healthy body and a life of immense privilege? An all-encompassing paranoia had started to grip me two years after my arrival; one that kept me awake at night and sent me spiralling at the creeping shadows of our large country home.

    I leaned down and unlatched the brass locks from my trunk. Inside were a collection of several personal items and some spare clothes. The velvet interior was luxurious to the extreme, and presumably cost more than the average home. I had insisted on purchasing it during a shopping trip in the city. It was one of the few presents I had ever requested. Not only was it aesthetically pleasing, but it also contained an important feature that the shop owner had neglected to mention to my guardians. The only other thing I wanted was not within reach, so alternative measures had to be taken.

    After removing all of my clothes and fiddling with another set of hidden latches, the bottom of the trunk lifted away to reveal a second, secret compartment. The inlay was divided into several smaller sections that allowed me to store different objects. Inside was something that would surely get me expelled, and perhaps worse, should anyone learn of it.

    A Burs semi-automatic pistol; chambered for nine-millimetre bullets that bore a striking resemblance to parabellum rounds. The rough metal construction harkened back to the earliest days of firearm design. Guns had become an increasingly important industrial product in the preceding decades. Their development was accelerating every day thanks to genius designers and people like my Father. I had expected to find some strange and wild designs once I learned of them, though for my money, it most closely copied an M1911.

    Revolvers were still popular for people who couldn¡¯t afford the newly released semi-autos. How I had come into possession of the gun was a long and winding tale. Father had purchased it for self-defence and competition and stored it in his study, in a location that was all too insecure and easy to access. The opportunity to use the thing had never arisen, leaving it as yet another forgotten trinket amongst a collection of other impulse purchases. It was almost certain that he¡¯d forgotten all about it. The M1911 was one of my favourite guns, if only for the way it looked and sounded. When I was an assassin there were much better contemporary options that offered more features and modern materials.

    I snuck into the study while no one was around and made away with it, tucking it atop my bedframe and out of sight where the maids wouldn¡¯t find it. The misplaced pistol was not noted for several months, upon which Father had momentarily believed that he had simply lost it. A more scrupulous investigation of the house staff turned up no leads, and he was never going to imagine his own daughter stealing a gun. The investigation went cold, but he got over it soon enough. He wasn¡¯t attached to something he had never used.

    Sometimes looking like this had its advantages; that was a rare thought.

    The only problem was that my Father had only purchased a trio of eight-round magazines. That was all the ammunition you¡¯d need for a self-defence weapon. I did not anticipate needing a measly twenty-four bullets. Even I could miss a shot occasionally. A solution for that problem soon presented itself. Shooting competitions. Both using targets, clay pigeons and even some that still used live animals for practice. There were a lot of guns and ammo at the meetings held in unsecured crates. It had taken a monumental effort to convince my Father to even consider taking me to one. Once I was there, demonstrating a ¡®natural¡¯ talent for firearms had overridden his good senses. Everyone found it more than a little strange to see a young girl there, but they weren¡¯t checking the pockets of my dress for all of the pilfered ammunition I had stolen when they were looking the other way. They weren¡¯t going to notice a dozen rounds missing in a box of hundreds.

    Through this methodology, I had stolen a hell of a lot of ammunition. Not as much as I would feel comfortable with ¨C the rounds that the Burs used were rare, but it was enough to satisfy me for the time being. Those loose bullets were stored in a pouch inside of the case so I could refill the magazines later. I would have liked to have brought the gun with me but that risked it being discovered. I was torn between taking that chance or making sure I wouldn¡¯t lose it to my own idiocy. I made sure that everything was in order and closed the secret compartment again. I needed to resist the temptation. There were very few regulations on who could own a firearm, but it would still be confiscated if discovered on campus grounds. It would have to remain hidden away under my bed until a rainy day arrived.

    Much to my frustration, that day would not come for some time yet.

 Chapter 8

    Magic was an interesting topic. My Father had instilled some of the basics into me, but he never went so far as to teach me anything specific. He had always assumed that my time at the academy would do a much better job than he ever could. I couldn¡¯t disagree with that assessment. There was a world of difference between an expert and a student, and he had only been on one side of that equation. The first two chapters of the book were dry reading; intent on explaining concepts that could easily be inferred with enough wisdom. People were born with different sensitivities to the ambient magic that flowed through the air, and for as long as people had existed in this world, they had passed down the knowledge of how to utilise that energy to perform various tasks.

    The true complexity of magic does not come from the act itself. Magic is an expression of energy passed through the human body. Imagine for a moment if you wished to summon a flame. How could it be done without physical kindling? Magic could be broadly defined as an ability that ¡®defied¡¯ the natural laws, but it is just as much an observer of the laws of physics as anything else in this world once it was expressed on the outside. You could create a zone of concentrated oxygen by extracting it from the air, but oxygen itself is not combustible. It would merely serve as a catalyst for a reaction. A flame summoned from a human body would snuff itself out on the spot.

    It was a matter of efficiency. You could create the energy needed to ignite the air with enough effort, but it was extremely expensive in terms of power to do so. You would exhaust yourself almost entirely just to summon a few sparks. That was true for mages below grade three, but grades four and five had the stamina to do much more without the assistance of a magical tool. To wit ¨C it was not a matter of ¡®imagining¡¯ the outcome you desired. It was to understand the elements and building blocks that created the world around you, to manipulate them using a variety of techniques, and to provide the energy needed to elicit the wanted effect.

    Even simple spells could take months to learn and execute, all determined by the person¡¯s capability to understand the science behind each one of them. As someone brought back from modern society, many of these lessons came naturally to me. The curriculum within the Academy was the most forthright they could offer, but I still had an advantage over everybody else. The book she had given us was light nighttime reading at its most complicated. The others probably didn¡¯t find it so simple.

    Samantha was special in her own way. I had never played the sequels, but I knew through osmosis that she had a power that allowed her to defy some of those rules. It was connected to a prophecy about saving the world; a plot thread that was never explored in the first game. It was a predictable rule-breaking concession that allowed her to be the centre of the universe: weak but strong, common but unique, humble but exceptional. She was a precision-engineered protagonist designed to elicit support and sympathy from a wish-fulfilling audience. A less experienced me enjoyed the game for what it was at the time. My perspective on things had hardened as I worked my way through a back catalogue of things that were more to my liking.

    Samantha¡¯s destiny was not relevant to me. I was going to avoid her and her love interests like the plague for as long as possible. It would only result in me coming off like a villain or getting dragged into trouble, or dragging them into trouble. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt an innocent person just through my presence. As strange as it sounds, I worked hard to make sure that my targets were always the worst scum of the Earth. My methods were equally bystander conscious; I never left anything to chance. I was already doing something terrible by most people¡¯s standards ¨C protecting onlookers was a small personal concession made to stop myself from losing it.

    I slammed the book shut and left it on my desk for later. I was a quick learner, so internalising all of the opening chapters was no effort at all. It was a rather dry introduction to some of the material, including a brief history of the magical arts, examples of where it is utilised, and some guidelines that every mage needed to know. Mages had to register themselves with the government, especially if they were grade three or higher. While modern weapons of war were encroaching on the destructive power of a well-crafted spell, mages could hide in plain sight. They could detonate an important building or piece of infrastructure without having to bring anything with them. You couldn¡¯t do that with a bomb or a tank. It was a recent introduction, coming into force a few decades before the ¡®compromise¡¯ was signed.

    It caused a lot of controversy when it was first formulated in Parliament. Mages didn¡¯t like the idea of having their names and addresses tracked for the sake of government oversight. Like many things, that controversy passed in time and it was implemented with little issue. People were never going to fight against a law like that for long. It required too much personal sacrifice to make a stand. It also came with military implications as skilled mages could be drafted into the army should the need arise.

    My silent study time was interrupted by the sound of a commotion going on outside in the hallway. I made sure that I was presentable and marched over to the door, ready to give whoever was responsible a piece of my mind. I pulled the door open and prepared to deliver the verbal lashing of a lifetime, but I was stopped dead by the recognition of who was standing there in front of me. It was Theodore Van Walser. If I was considered the ¡®Queen¡¯ of the school by the student body, then he was the ¡®King.¡¯ There were a few reasons as to why that was the case; the most important being his membership in the Walser royal family. He was a third-year student, but his tall height, dark hair and good looks made him seem more mature than he really was.

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    The boy he was arguing with was a second year called Lance Franzheim. He was also one of the potential love interests from the game. Out of all of the characters in it, he was my least favourite. He was similar to Adrian ¨C extremely prideful in his own abilities and hobbies, but without the comedic relief of not being very good at them. He was seemingly only included for the women who wanted an irremediable trash fire that they could break down and repair. I was not so forgiving of his numerous faults as they might have been. To behave so poorly was in many ways a purposeful choice.

    Theodore spoke with an icy edge, ¡°I told you to stop walking through the first year¡¯s dorms, Lance. There is a reason people spread so many unbecoming rumours about you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recall that ever being a rule we had to follow, Theo. My room is on this floor and walking through here is the fastest way to get to it. Nobody would even know about it if you didn¡¯t keep making a big deal out of it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a rule, it¡¯s good manners.¡±

    Lance turned and tried to walk away from the discussion, but his eyes caught sight of me observing from the doorway. ¡°See? Now even little miss Walston-Carter is coming out here to take a look!¡± He was completely unwilling to admit that the volume of his own voice was the primary reason I had noticed their confrontation. Theodore looked at me for a moment before turning his attention back to Lance.

    ¡°If you ask the teachers they will tell you the same thing that I have. You need to respect the privacy of the younger students. This discussion is over.¡±

    ¡°Whatever. You¡¯ve always got a point to prove, must feel bad knowing that you¡¯re only third in line to be the King.¡±

    ¡°That is irrelevant.¡±

    Theodore did not covet the Walser throne like Lance believed. As the primary male antagonist, he was intended to slowly reveal his vulnerabilities throughout the course of the story. One of them was his insecurity about handling too much responsibility. He dreaded the prospect of becoming the King, as unlikely as it was. Lance, having gotten the last word, spun on his heel and stormed his way down the hallway and out of sight. Theodore turned to me and bowed.

    ¡°Apologies. I did not mean to disturb you.¡±

    Nobody else had seen fit to investigate. I sighed and matted down a piece of stray hair; ¡°I was finished studying anyway. It is of little consequence.¡±

    There was one other thing about Theodore. In the game, he and Maria quickly get into a relationship. Maria used that leverage to manipulate him and further her personal war against Samantha. He wouldn¡¯t agree to do that if he didn¡¯t find Maria attractive. The problem was that I had become Maria. While I was comfortable with many things, the idea of being romantically involved with anyone, especially a man, was not one of them. Before I was reborn a relationship was the last thing on my mind, and I had made my peace with never engaging in one. His stare was starting to unnerve me.

    ¡°I take it that you¡¯re the girl who¡¯s been causing a big stir recently?¡±

    ¡°Whether I wish to or not, yes.¡±

    ¡°Please ensure that you are representing the academy with grace and respect at all times. We have little need for those who live for attention.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning on it.¡± What a charmer. The very first thing he said to me was a random admonishment about following the academy¡¯s rules.

    ¡°I must be away before curfew. Goodnight.¡±

    Without a second glance, he headed off in pursuit of Lance. Surely, they would continue to argue into the late hours of the evening. He wasn¡¯t going to take his petulant insult lying down. I heard the door across from me shut ¨C someone must have been observing us from the other side. I believed that the room was occupied by a girl named Talia. I could only cross my fingers and hope that she didn¡¯t start spreading even more rumours about me based on what she saw.

    I headed back into my room and locked the door behind me. As I passed by the mirror, I reached up and touched my own face. Were people really so interested in me just because of my looks? I was tiny compared to some of the other girls ¨C no number of doll-like features could change that. I was strong enough to fire a gun, but anything beyond that was still impossible. I was consistently surprised at just how few of my previous skills I could use with my body limited like this. My modern perspective on things was warping how I thought. For the period where the game took place, Maria would attract a large number of suitors. Being spindly and youthful were considered good things even as you headed up in years.

    I didn¡¯t want to stay this way forever. I had accepted that I had filled the shoes of Maria and accepted that there was no realistic way of changing myself back. As long as it did not cause me discomfort, I did not mind things the way they were. Where I drew the line was when my new body inhibited my ability to defend myself. There was no prospect of turning myself into a state similar to my past life; the biological lottery that Maria had won turned her into a girl of minor stature but a large presence.

    But a gun was the great equaliser. I didn¡¯t need to be tall and muscular to do what I do best. Everyone is the same when they¡¯re facing down the barrel of a firearm. Those muscles won¡¯t protect your internal organs from the shrapnel tearing through you. I looked under my bed again and considered pulling the pistol out to comfort myself, but resisted the urge. It was there for when things turned upside down, not just for me to slip under my pillow at night.

    Even so, it was a restless evening.

 Chapter 9

    The next morning heralded the beginning of our real life at the academy. We all awoke to find a schedule slipped under our doors. Students would study for five days a week, with each session taking up two hours. For students on the magic course, an extra period would occur on ¡®Friday,¡¯ which otherwise ended early for everyone else. There was a wide range of subjects on offer as first-year students were pushed in several different directions at once. There was an hour break period at midday so that everyone could eat. This was roughly translated from a time management mechanic in the original game. Also, in Love Revolution ¨C the calendar was rendered in a more generic form without names for the days and months. These gaps had been filled. Unslaw, Erslaw, Arslaw, Gerstad, Gerwent, Karbur and Karvor had taken the respective places of each day of the week.

    It was ¡®Erslaw,¡¯ or Tuesday, as the induction process had taken up all of the first day of the week. That meant my first-period lesson was a physics lesson. A new and innovative field in a world undergoing its equivalent of the industrial revolution. Before that, there was a morning roll call in the cafeteria where everyone could have their morning meal before the work really began.

    I grabbed my uniform from the wardrobe and dressed in front of the mirror. I had taken a liking to the shirts usually reserved for the male students ¨C as I discovered early on that there were no specific rules about what uniform we had to wear. As long as it was issued by the school, there was nothing they could do to stop me. It was a minor difference at best. The female uniforms came in a slightly different cut with shorter sleeves. The girl¡¯s uniforms were not so distasteful that I shied away from them out of respect for my past masculine self. That guy had worn a lot of strange disguises over the years. It was completely down to my own preference. And nobody was going to make fun of ¡®Maria Walston-Carter¡¯ for wearing something she wanted to wear. I was anticipating a movement where my fanclub started to copy me...

    When that was done and my hair was tied back into a short braid ¨C I headed out of the door and down the main stairwell to reach the cafeteria. Like most other areas of the building, it was a nicely decorated room with tall windows and red silk curtains. On the left side of the hall was a long serving bar with several staff members hurrying in and out of the kitchen to put out various options for the students. In the morning it mostly consisted of dry, room temperature food like bread and toppings. I tried to ignore the way that some of the others were staring at me and grabbed a plate. I elected for some bread, which was freshly baked and warm to the touch, jam, butter and a small salad. I then located the most isolated table in the room and sat at the very end so that I didn¡¯t have to deal with anybody getting into my personal space. The tables and chairs were not cheap plastic things like you¡¯d find in a modern school. They were finely crafted wooden thrones placed behind an equally lavish grand table. I had never gone to a private school in my past life, but this was how I imagined it to be.

    The bread was fantastic. I enjoyed my meal as more and more early risers filtered in through the doors and broke off into their respective cliques. I groaned internally as several of my self-declared groupies locked onto me from across from the room. Before they could ruin my morning and lavish unneeded praise on me, another girl slid in beside me and started to quietly eat her own breakfast, earning a glare of jealousy from the head of the group. My defences were bolstered further as Claudius and Maxwell sat across from me on the opposite side, completely preventing any irritating groupies from following me.

    The girl next to me was wolfing down her food at a rapid pace. I stared at her for a moment, briefly meeting her auburn eyes. She swallowed a mouthful of jam-slathered bread; ¡°I saw you speaking with the Ice King yesterday evening,¡± she said suddenly, ¡°Do you two have something going on?¡±

    My reply was withering, ¡°I¡¯ve been here for one day ¨C what do you think?¡±

    She smirked and ignored my audible disdain, ¡°So? A lot of those marriage arrangements happen outside of school, don¡¯t they? I wouldn¡¯t be surprised to find out that someone as influential as you is marrying into the royal family.¡±

    ¡°I can assure you that no such plan is being made.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t worried about it. I have a bad habit of looking for gossip. A lot of your fans are already talking about how you and him are the perfect couple and rubbish like that.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Talia, I sleep in the room across from yours.¡±

    ¡°Maria,¡± I replied simply.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re in the same class. Would you like me to grab the seat next to you in first period?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    She smirked, ¡°I know that look you keep throwing those girls. You don¡¯t want anything to do with them. I thought I¡¯d do you a favour and keep a bit of distance between you. I¡¯m not expecting anything in return, it¡¯s just that we both prefer a bit of peace and quiet. I won¡¯t even talk to you if you don¡¯t want me to.¡±

    ¡°Not that I have much of interest to say,¡± I sighed, ¡°If you¡¯d like, you can take the chair next to me.¡±

    ¡°Great, thanks a bunch.¡±

    This girl was stupid to do something like this. She was painting a huge target on her back for the mean girl squad to throw a lot of abuse at. I fully expected her to give up on her plan after a few days of having insults uttered behind her back time and time again. I¡¯d need to handle the fanclub myself eventually and make it clear to them just how little I appreciated their near constant badgering. This school was meant to be for people of high birth and good manners, but they certainly didn¡¯t seem to care that it was rude to stare at someone while they were trying to enjoy a meal.

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    Claudius and Maxwell hadn¡¯t noticed me before they chose their spot in the back corner. They were arguing about a crime story that Claudius had seen in the morning paper. I wasn¡¯t sure where he had gotten it from. He must have taken a second-hand copy from one of the teachers.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious Claude ¨C the only thing you talk about these days are people getting murdered. Give it a rest already! I don¡¯t want to hear about it while I¡¯m trying to eat.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s important to keep up with all of the recent news, you know. It expands the mind, and gives you new perspectives. Don¡¯t come crying to me in a few years when your ignorance comes back to bite you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see myself needing such things! The professor is hardly going to ask me about the exact details of how to conceal a dead body in the woods, you fool. Even talking about this is running the risk of someone getting the wrong idea.¡±

    It was a little late to worry about that given the volume of their discussion. Claudius¡¯ interest in the morbid wasn¡¯t an expression of deep discontent or the result of childhood trauma. He was just someone who had become infatuated with the idea of being a gallant detective, solving mysteries and confounding criminals. He would be sorely disappointed to learn that most murderers didn¡¯t have a matching flair for the dramatic. There was nothing stimulating about the real act of finding a killer. It required patience and lateral thinking that I didn¡¯t believe he had. Claudius finally noticed that I was staring at him and he clammed up, turning bright red and averting his gaze elsewhere. Maxwell rolled his eyes and turned to me.

    ¡°Good morning, Lady Maria.¡±

    I kept my manners and greeted him in turn, ¡°Hello Maxwell.¡±

    ¡°You should have heard what he was saying about you yesterday-¡±

    Claudius leapt back into the discussion and slapped his hand over Maxwell¡¯s mouth before he could divulge all the dirty details. He laughed nervously and bowed his head, ¡°Never mind! Maxwell, you shouldn¡¯t make things up like that. People will get the wrong idea.¡±

    Maxwell wrenched the invading hand free from his face and snarled, ¡°Don¡¯t shove your hand into my mouth, I¡¯m trying to eat here!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re such good friends, aren¡¯t they?¡± Talia commented dryly.

    ¡°Indeed they are.¡±

    I had to wonder why Samantha hadn¡¯t joined in on this poor man¡¯s comedy routine. I looked around the room and tried to spot her in the crowd ¨C her blonde hair was enough to make her stand out from most of the other girls, but I couldn¡¯t see her. I had to wonder if she had made some friends during her first day here. I grabbed my plate and pushed out from my spot at the table. I handed the cutlery and the plate back to the staff, who placed it on a cart to be cleaned later. There was still some time before the first period as I had eaten my meal quickly for the sake of avoiding any conversations. It was high school all over again, at least this time it was by choice. I headed out of the hall and decided to wait by the classroom door for the lesson to start. There was a small courtyard nearby where I could get some fresh air and clear my mind.

    I had to appreciate how clean the air was out here. We were rather close to a major city, but the lack of industrialisation in the area kept things breathable. The rich and the powerful weren¡¯t going to let their favourite city turn into a smog-covered hellhole. I sat down on one of the wooden benches and watched the clouds roll by. Enjoying a peaceful life in this new world was too kind a reward for the likes of me. My momentary reflection was unfortunately short-lived, as another girl poured out from the door behind me like a tidal wave. She had long purple hair and straight bangs,

    ¡°Lady Maria! There you are!¡± I remained completely silent as she bent over to catch her breath. When she was finally ready to speak again she straightened out and struck a cocky pose, ¡°Why did you leave the hall without me?¡±

    I didn¡¯t want to ask, knowing that she would never shut up if I did, but the temptation was too strong; ¡°And you are?¡±

    She smiled, ¡°My name is Catherine Selldorf! I was hoping that we could have a moment to speak, but those unscrupulous people took my place by your side before I could get to you. I presume you came here to escape their inane blather.¡±

    She wouldn¡¯t recognize inane blather if it hit her over the head with a brick.

    ¡°No. I merely wished to enjoy the fresh air.¡±

    ¡°Ah, there¡¯s no need to hold back and be polite, Lady Maria. You can speak openly with me, I will not divulge a word of it to anyone else.¡± She wasn¡¯t going to take the hint and leave me alone that easily. She was the head groupie from my self-declared fanclub. I saw her shooting daggers at Talia earlier.

    ¡°If you respect me so much, why not take my words at face value?¡±

    Her grin wavered for a moment, ¡°Ah. I just... Some people are very polite, such as yourself. An esteemed lady would never speak a bad word of anyone, regardless of your real feelings.¡± Yet here she was expecting me to do just that. People always astounded me with their ability to tie themselves into knots like this.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mind. Who sits next to me while I eat is merely a brief inconvenience at most. It¡¯s nothing worth getting angry about.¡± Catherine nodded as if that was what she expected me to say the entire time, even as she tried to bait me into bullying some of the other students. I stood from my seat, revealing that I was significantly shorter than she was. ¡°And I¡¯m not looking for friends if that¡¯s what you want.¡±

    She did a very poor job of concealing her disappointment.

    ¡°It would be very presumptuous of me to assume that a lowly girl like me could be your friend, Lady Maria! I just wanted you to know that you have a great many supporters here among the student body; we all believe that you are the most fabulous girl and we all want to be like you.¡±

    I scoffed, ¡°I can handle myself.¡±

    ¡°O-Of course, that strength of character and will is just another part of your charm!¡±

    Even my coldest stare wasn¡¯t enough to make this girl leave me alone. When I refused to respond again, she bowed her head respectfully and hurried back inside with her tail tucked firmly between her legs. That wasn¡¯t going to be enough to get them off my back. Nothing short of a full-throated rejection in plain terms was going to get through to them, if at all. They could just rationalise a new reason as to why I wanted to stay away from them. If whoever reincarnated me wanted my skills in killing people subtly ¨C they could have done better than putting me in the flashiest body around...

 Chapter 10

    The first magic class was in session, and I was bored out of my mind.

    The full cohort consisted of myself, Adrian, Maxwell, Claudius, Samantha, Talia and a girl named Margaret. For the absolute avoidance of doubt, Miss Malorie Jennings decided to quickly run through everything I had already studied beforehand. There was a novelty in experiencing lessons in a world where the history, technology and culture were radically different ¨C but not in the science, maths and language periods where much of it was below my existing knowledge.

    Miss Jennings was essentially reading from the book again, the same book she had asked us to read in preparation for this very lesson. I was not the only one experiencing fatigue from this repetitious walkthrough. The studious members of the class couldn¡¯t hide the boredom on their faces. The non-studious members who hadn¡¯t read the book weren¡¯t paying attention regardless.

    On the teacher¡¯s left was a fifth-year student named Felipe Escobarus. He was Talia¡¯s older brother and the resemblance was uncanny. They both had the same messy black hair, tanned skin and yellow eyes. He was a character I was totally unfamiliar with, a passing silhouette in the background of a much more interesting tale. Now that I was being personally immersed in the world of Love Revolution all of those individuals would get their time in the sun. He was here to help teach the class and get extra credit towards his graduation, which would occur at the end of his sixth year.

    It was a long and painful road, but eventually Miss Jennings slammed the book shut and stepped back to admire the plethora of notes she had written onto the blackboard. A few of us had decided to copy some of them, but only where she had chosen to elaborate on concepts not already explained in the text. She clapped her hands together and tried to clean off the chalk, ¡°Now ¨C before we go any further I was hoping to give you all a practical demonstration. The weather is perfect, and showing you what magic can do will hopefully alight a new passion for the art.¡±

    With plans made, she ushered the class down the corridor and out of one of the building¡¯s many exits. A specially cordoned yard near the woods at the back of the campus was used for magic training. It was little more than a square with some old archery targets thrown down at the far end. It bore many scars of war from years of use and abuse, with charred grass, broken trees and shattered stones. Each one told its own little story, but there was no time for Miss Jennings to talk us through all of them. Despite this period occurring after hours she was still being held to a tight schedule. We would need to visit the dining hall for one last meal before the day was through.

    ¡°I know it looks like this place has been turned into a battlefield before, but you shouldn¡¯t expect a surplus of destructive power at your fingertips without significant time and effort,¡± Felipe explained. ¡°Still ¨C this is dangerous enough for us to conduct any and all magical testing outside of the academy building. There¡¯s a zero-tolerance policy in place for anyone who breaks this rule. You will run the risk of being expelled, and I needn¡¯t say what will occur if you use those magical abilities on another student.¡±

    Miss Jennings nodded in concurrence, ¡°That¡¯s right. You all have an immense personal responsibility to use these powers with care. They are not a curiosity to trifle with when you find your mind wandering. Even a low-level spell can cause damage to another person.¡± Adrian had to use what little restraint he had to stop himself from talking back to her, he knew that a misstep would see him expelled from the course post-haste. They weren¡¯t going to take troublemakers along for the ride if they were going to use their newly learned abilities to wreak havoc.

    Felipe walked to one of the targets and grabbed a small metal rod that had been embedded into the dirt by its feet. He stabbed the pole through the hay surface and returned to the group, who watched with anticipation of what he was going to do. ¡°This first spell is extremely difficult and requires a conductive point to function properly. Step back and allow me to demonstrate.¡±

    Miss Jennings ensured that everyone was at a safe distance before giving him the go-ahead. He held his left hand out at the target and focused his energy on manipulating the surrounding area. Adrian rolled his eyes and scoffed as nothing happened at first, but he nearly jumped out of his skin when a lightning bolt appeared from his palm and struck the metal pole. The hay immediately caught light as a conductive channel was not connected to the ground. Miss Jennings retrieved a previously unnoticed pail of water and doused it before it could burn the forest down. It was a terrifying and sudden display of power. The class applauded the feat as he took a bow and stepped aside.

    ¡°That was an example of a two-point spell,¡± Jennings stated, ¡°By manipulating the energy in the air, Felipe created a start and end that allowed him to summon forth a bolt of thunder.¡±

    I had to replay her statement in my head to comprehend it. Did she mean to imply that he was capable of shifting the electrons and protons into a specific formation? That was how thunder was formed naturally in the air. Using a conductive point, he could direct that energy and strike at the target.

    Adrian was not as impressed as the rest of the group. He crossed his arms and scoffed, ¡°Is that it? I was expecting something more explosive.¡±

    Claudius was quick to shoot back, ¡°He just fired lightning from his hands, that seems rather impressive to me. My heart isn¡¯t going to slow down. It¡¯s pounding like a drum!¡±

    Max agreed, ¡°Too right. My ears are still ringing...¡±

    I¡¯d grown too used to the sounds of gunfire to find the crack of thunder alarming. Adrian¡¯s posturing wasn¡¯t playing well with the rest of the class. Nobody was convinced that the display we had just seen was underwhelming. It was much more powerful than I was expecting. My Father had spent the past few years downplaying just how effective magic could be. In specific contexts such as this, it was very dangerous. In a fight it was unlikely that you could stab someone with a lightning rod though, at that point you may as well finish the job by hand. But nobody ever said that it was useful in combat. The advent of firearms had rendered most forms of combat magic redundant. This kind of electrical manipulation would often be used in industrial processes.

    Miss Jennings snapped her fingers, ¡°Now, now. There¡¯ll be plenty of time to discuss matters later. We have to make the most out of this lesson period, as we¡¯ll have few opportunities to work together in person. What you just saw was an advanced spell that we¡¯d expect from a final-year student; it requires immense focus and a commitment to knowledge about the natural elements that surround you.¡±

    Felipe nodded, ¡°I remember seeing such a demonstration during my first year. I told myself that I¡¯d never be able to emulate the feat, but here I am some years later ¨C offering that same example to you all. There is still so much more for me to learn, and helping you along the path will enlighten me just as much as it will you.¡±

    ¡°The first practical lesson will be about manipulation. Manipulation is the basis of nearly all practical magics used today. Think of it as a muscle that one must train to strengthen, time and time again. You will use your magical stamina and manipulate something harmless, that being the air that surrounds us.¡± She pointed her hands towards us, and a sudden gust of wind rustled the frills on my shirt and threatened to upturn some skirts. I clenched the edge of my own and tried to prevent any untimely flashing of the boys. I had enough marriage proposals to worry about already.

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    ¡°Why air?¡± Adrian asked with a tone that indicated he thought he was too good for such a thing.

    ¡°Air is the best place for a beginner to learn the basics. It¡¯s light, it requires less magical energy to move, and it poses no harm to you or the other students. By using wind currents ¨C we can make the most out of the time we have and the extent to which you can continue to use magic before exhausting yourselves. These basic skills will be the foundation by which you explore other spells in the future.¡±

    Felipe had stern words in contrast, ¡°One cannot expect to become a talented mage without time and effort. If your patience is running thin even now, then might I suggest seeking a better way to occupy your time?¡±

    That open challenge ruffled Adrian¡¯s feathers. He was overly competitive to a fault and wasn¡¯t going to take it lying down. He¡¯d willingly submit himself to something he didn¡¯t enjoy so long as it proved a point to someone he hated. Felipe had marked himself as public enemy number one, and Adrian was going to endure however many boring theory lessons it took to prove him wrong. It was a pattern of behaviour that I had noticed after I first achieved victory over him at a local shooting competition; something that he still hadn¡¯t let go of even after all this time.

    ¡°I¡¯m not impatient,¡± he yelled, ¡°I was just hoping for an explanation, that¡¯s all!¡±

    Miss Jennings ignored his frustration and spoke to the rest of the class by repeating a key passage from the book. ¡°Manipulation is a method, not a spell in itself. What defines a spell is the way that these methods are utilised and combined with the natural elements around us. You must learn to reach out with your hands, and touch these elements not with your nerves, but with your spirit. Can you please line up for me?¡±

    There was a small commotion as everyone jockeyed for the best position. I moved aside and stood at the far end. Jennings directed us through the process of tapping into our innate magical abilities. It boiled down to closing our eyes and wishing really hard, my cynical nature made it hard to take the process seriously. If it were that easy, why did we need a tutor to show us the ropes? Regardless, I successfully ¡®felt¡¯ the air around me using what could best be described as an extra sense. It was like touching the edge of a soft, silken blanket ¨C one that moved and swayed through my skin and bones. The shock of it was enough to knock me back out of my trance and into the real world.

    ¡°It looks like Lady Maria has already succeeded! Very well done. As you can imagine, holding that state for long enough to use your magic takes some practice. The first few times you¡¯ll come back having your head stuffed full of information.¡±

    Samantha was the next member of the group to squeal as her imaginary fingers strummed along the edge of a passing current. She stepped back and almost fell over, but Claudius stepped in and held her up before she could injure herself. ¡°Woah! Watch out, Sam.¡±

    ¡°S-Sorry!¡±

    ¡°Was it really that scary?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It was weird. It was like I grew an extra pair of hands!¡± Samantha murmured, unable to offer an accurate description of the otherworldly sensation. The only way to understand it was to experience it. Claudius¡¯ curiosity drew him in and made him try again. Thirty seconds later he had a similar reaction, crying out with a crack in his voice and almost falling onto his ass.

    Everyone had a good laugh at his expense, at least until it was their turn to succeed and do the same thing. Felipe offered further guidance to Adrian and his sister, who were both struggling. When everyone had their turn to humiliate themselves with a variety of reactions, Jennings checked her watch and realised that we were five minutes over our allotted time.

    ¡°Oh dear, it seems that¡¯s all we have time for today! I¡¯d like all of you to end every day by getting in touch with your magical senses. Simply do what we did here again until you feel comfortable slipping in and out of your trance.¡±

    ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°Fantastic! I¡¯ll see you all again at the same time next week, don¡¯t overdo it.¡±

    Everyone started to gravitate towards the entrance to the building as the teachers remained behind to clean up the mess they left, but Adrian was shadowing me with intent. Before I could slip away and enjoy the rest of my evening in solitude, he swept around in front of me and jabbed his finger into my face, ¡°Don¡¯t think that you¡¯ve won just because you did what the teacher wanted before me, Maria. This isn¡¯t a sprint ¨C I¡¯m going to come out the victor at the end. Just you wait.¡±

    ¡°I can barely contain my excitement,¡± I droned. The others stopped and watched to see what the fight was about. I twisted the knife just to steam him a little. ¡°If you¡¯re as good at magic as you are at shooting, then I won¡¯t have anything to worry about.¡±

    Max grabbed his shoulder, ¡°There¡¯s no need to get aggressive with Maria, Adrian.¡±

    ¡°There is! I hate seeing that smug look on her face, always thinking that she¡¯s so much better than me.¡±

    I stepped closer, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen any evidence to the contrary yet ¨C you red-faced blowhard. The next time you point that scrawny finger in my face, I¡¯ll snap it clean off.¡± A chill ran through the assembled spectators, and not because of anyone summoning the wind on top of us. It wasn¡¯t doing anything to improve Samantha¡¯s ill impression of me from the days before, but I wasn¡¯t here to make friends. I was trying to do the exact opposite. Adrian wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about me threatening to break his fingers. Was it just a joke? Or was I being serious?

    ¡°You... I... who the hell do you think you are?¡±

    ¡°Have a nice evening, Adrian.¡±

    I pushed past him and walked away.

    ¡°Yikes,¡± Maxwell exhaled, ¡°I thought something bad was going to happen there.¡±

    Claudius smirked, ¡°See, I told you that she was a cold-blooded killer. She had those eyes, you know?¡±

    Adrian turned on the duo and spat back, ¡°Oh shut up, both of you! As if a dainty little girl like her could do something like that!¡±

    Samantha held her tongue but recalled a moment when she had seen Maria without her shirt a few days prior. She was cleaning herself up in the washroom. At first, she thought nothing of it, but as she moved and tensed her muscles she discovered that Maria was hiding a lot beneath that uniform and doll-like fa?ade. Maria may have been short and pretty, but she had the body of a young athlete.

    There was no doubt in her mind that she could follow through on her threat if Adrian tested her any further. The more Samantha learned about Maria the less she understood. She was studious, polite, frigid, popular but isolated, and engaged in hobbies like shooting. All she did know was that she didn¡¯t like her very much.

    ¡°Don¡¯t come crying to me with your hand in a cast in a few days,¡± Claudius snickered, ¡°We warned you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. It only takes a small amount of leverage to break a finger. I did it when I was a kid,¡± Max added.

    ¡°She¡¯s not going to break any of my bones!¡± The more Adrian said it, the less convincing it sounded. Dramatic irony demanded that such an occurrence would come true if he kept foreshadowing it. Claudius made a cutting motion by his neck to tell Adrian to keep it quiet. He wasn¡¯t going to heed such sage advice. He huffed and stormed away, leaving the friendlier members of the class with each other for company.

    ¡°Ugh, what is his problem?¡± Talia said.

    Claudius was already psychoanalysing him; ¡°He seems like a fragile guy. I don¡¯t know how long he¡¯s going to last in this academy, to be honest. Maria is rattling him on purpose.¡±

    Max nodded, ¡°There¡¯s no love lost between those two...¡±

    ¡°You seem to be the only person she¡¯s willing to tolerate, Talia.¡±

    ¡°She never speaks with me ¨C we just sit next to each other in class so she doesn¡¯t have to deal with her fanclub. I painted a huge target on my back by doing that. Those girls are crazy mean when you get between them and Maria. I get why she doesn¡¯t want anything to do with them.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re looking for friends, we¡¯ll welcome you to the group,¡± Samantha smiled. She liked how selfless Talia was being, even if it was in service of someone she had a rough relationship with. Samantha and Talia weren¡¯t alone. Maria didn¡¯t care for anyone in her year, and the older students were too busy or aloof to worry about one of their juniors.

    Talia was happy to accept, ¡°Sure, when I¡¯m not playing defence for her ¨C I¡¯ll come hang out.¡±

    Claudius laughed, ¡°Thank you. If Samantha spends too much time around us she might lose all of her girl power. We need another girl to balance things out.¡±

    ¡°Girl power?¡± Samantha echoed.

    Max groaned, ¡°It¡¯s nothing, Let¡¯s go get something to eat before all of the good food is gone.¡±

 Chapter 11

    It was time for a biology lesson with Professor Trevor Prier. For the science periods in our schedule, there was no specified subject. One of the science teachers would take the period and deliver their lesson plan to the students, with a minimum number being expected by the end of the year. The reasoning was that most of them were still tenured researchers and lecturers with other commitments. Professor Prier was one of the few who were employed full-time by the academy, so it was no surprise that he was the first of the tutors we would meet. The first lesson was decent ¨C with plenty of demonstrative examples and metaphors to help us understand, though that effort was wasted on someone like me.

    My advanced, twenty-first-century education meant that most of it was elementary at best. The problem was that Prier had singled me out as the best option when none of the other students could answer one of his questions. I¡¯d always answer them correctly, thus confirming his methodology and making him more likely to ask me again in the future. He had gone to the well four times during our first lesson. Talia found it hilarious. She was already teasing me about it before he entered the lecture hall.

    ¡°Time for another lesson from Professor Walston-Carter,¡± she mused.

    ¡°Hopefully not. Would it not be better if the others had a chance to confirm their learning?¡±

    She just laughed at me, ¡°We¡¯d be here all day if that was the case. No offence, but some of the people here aren¡¯t the brightest. Even the Professor has a schedule to keep.¡±

    I opened my notebook and changed the topic, ¡°You never said anything about your brother teaching the magic class.¡±

    ¡°You never asked. You can¡¯t expect me to give you all of the details when you always avoid talking with everybody. He¡¯s a real honour student, and he has a marriage lined up when he gets out of here too.¡±

    ¡°A marriage?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s another student, her name¡¯s Beatrice Booker.¡±

    The name was familiar. Booker was a surname you¡¯d see associated with big business within the city. They had their fingers in a lot of different pies, and marrying into them would be important to anyone with a strategy to increase their influence and wealth like their Father. Arranged marriages were nothing unusual in this world. In the game, they were often the source of the interpersonal drama that drove many storylines.

    ¡°Interesting. Does he like her?¡±

    ¡°Well enough,¡± Talia responded, ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re going to be at each other¡¯s throats if that¡¯s what you mean. They¡¯re just lucky that they can stand each other. Most arranged marriages aren¡¯t like that at all. I think Beatrice was the one who had the final say on whether to agree to it. Her Father does whatever she wants.¡±

    Our discussion ended with the arrival of the Professor. He was a strange-looking man with a long face, bleached-white hair and a pair of round spectacles. He liked to wear coloured sweaters and bow ties. He placed his books down on the podium and clapped his hands together to demand the room¡¯s attention. He spoke with a jaunty and enthusiastic cadence, ¡°Good morning everyone. I hope that you all took the time to retrace the content we covered last week, as I¡¯d like to plough right ahead and move on to the next!¡±

    I found the previous lesson rather dull ¨C but I shouldn¡¯t have expected too much. For many children, this was the first whiff of education they ever experienced outside of the home. I¡¯d estimate that the content of the curriculum was a few years behind where I expected it to be for our age. I could coast through most of the questions and lectures just by using my memory of High School.

    When the lesson was over an hour later, everyone made a mad dash for the exit. Even my dedicated fan club decided against approaching me when isolated. They didn¡¯t want to hear another word about photosynthesis. Before I could join them and leave the lecture hall, Trevor pulled me aside and asked to speak with me. He flashed a toothy grin, ¡°I¡¯m very impressed with your knowledge, Maria. Did you take private lessons before coming here?¡±

    ¡°No. I simply found myself spending a lot of time in the library back home.¡±

    ¡°If you ever feel like giving me a hand wrangling these kids, please feel free to ask! I¡¯m sure that a lady like you could hold their attention much better than I ever could.¡± He laughed sardonically at his own joke, ¡°Well ¨C it¡¯s their loss at the end of the day. If they don¡¯t get their money¡¯s worth during their time here, there¡¯s nothing I can do about it. I try to make these lectures as exciting as I can, but it¡¯s an uphill battle.¡±

    I recalled something minor from the game. One of the first ¡®events¡¯ that the player had a major choice in revolved around Claudius needing a tutor to help him study biology. Samantha would be approached by the teacher and asked to help, giving the player a choice between starting his route or avoiding it. If not, Maria would do it instead and cause some trouble by whispering a few lies in his ear. The biology teacher was not an important character in the visual novel, so his name and appearance were never revealed. This was clearly the first step in forcing me to give him a hand.

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    ¡°Is there a reason you wanted to speak with me, Professor?¡±

    He chuckled, ¡°You¡¯re too wise to let me go with just that. I was hoping that you could offer a helping hand to Claudius. I¡¯ve already asked Samantha to assist him, but she has her own studies to worry about too. I¡¯d feel much more confident if you were to help him since you seem so ahead of the curve already.¡±

    I didn¡¯t hate Claudius, but he didn¡¯t make much of an impression on me when I played the novel. I nodded and half-shrugged to signal my mixed feelings on his request, ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do. But Claudius tends to be more occupied reading detective serials and crime reports than doing his assignments.¡±

    Trevor smiled and patted me on the shoulder, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get through to him somehow. That¡¯s all I wanted to say. Thank you for another great lecture, Miss Carter.¡±

    I bowed my head and took my leave into the main corridor. Talia was waiting for me by the window. She approached and quirked a brow, ¡°Did he have something to say to you?¡±

    ¡°He just asked me to help Claudius study.¡±

    ¡°What? That¡¯s supposed to be his job.¡±

    I nodded in agreement, ¡°You can lead a horse to water, but you can¡¯t make it drink. The issue isn¡¯t of Claudius¡¯ intelligence, but rather his willingness to engage with a subject that doesn¡¯t arouse his interest.¡±

    ¡°How are you going to do that?¡±

    ¡°I have a few ideas,¡± I said ominously.

    I knocked on Claudius¡¯ door that evening and waited for him to open it. When he appeared through the frame, I noted that he was already halfway through untying his ascot and getting dressed for bed.

    ¡°Is this a bad time?¡±

    Claudius hadn¡¯t expected me to show up. I was too frosty to make a friendly call to another person¡¯s room like this. He sputtered and quickly buttoned his shirt to try and conceal his chest from me. ¡°N-No, there¡¯s never a bad time. A detective always has to be ready, you know?¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re not a detective. You¡¯re a student.¡±

    Claudius tapped his temple with his finger, ¡°It¡¯s training. You have to be in the right mindset at all times! You never know when a major crime is going to occur, or if a vital clue appears within your periphery.¡±

    ¡°The biology Professor asked me to whip you into shape,¡± I said, crossing my arms and giving him an impatient look. His face turned inwards like he had just started sucking on a lemon. ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t like my assistance, you need only say so.¡±

    Claudius clenched his teeth and sighed, ¡°Ugh. My Dad told me that I¡¯ll be in serious trouble if I don¡¯t do this earnestly. It¡¯s not my fault that the lessons are so dull. Maybe the Professor should bring some more pictures or examples for us to look at.¡±

    ¡°Not everyone has a resistance to crime scene photos like you do...¡±

    He chewed on my offer for a little longer before conceding and grabbing his blazer from behind the doorway.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll hear you out, but it better be a compelling lecture this time, or I¡¯ll swear off biology for the rest of my days.¡±

    I led him across the hall and into the lounge, a dedicated study and common area for the students staying in the academy. There were several bookshelves filled with content from the general courses, as well as a roaring fireplace, tables, couches and more. It had everything I needed to try and bring Claudius on side. We took one of the empty tables near the fire and I started leading him towards my desired conclusion. Claudius only cared about one thing; being a master detective. I needed to tie his love of crime stories into biology, and there was an obvious avenue for me to reach it. I gave him a second to settle in before starting my pitch.

    ¡°You know, there are a lot of moving pieces when it comes to solving a crime.¡±

    That caught his attention. If he had the ears of a dog, they¡¯d be standing on end.

    ¡°Yes, that there is.¡±

    ¡°What all of those crime serials fail to explore is the modern reality of police work. They all rely on the belief in the power of one individual, a brilliant mind unrestrained by the same strain of logic as the rest of us. But one person cannot hope to educate themselves in every field, and as time passes the methods by which the police hunt these criminals down will become more sophisticated.¡±

    Claudius grumbled, ¡°That¡¯s what my Dad keeps telling me too. He laughed when I said I¡¯d just learn how to do all of those things for myself.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to make fun of you, Claudius. I think it¡¯s rather admirable that you have a goal in mind. I don¡¯t even have a future that I wish to seek for myself. The point I¡¯m making is that your effort will pay dividends in the end, and that if you wish to become a great detective, you must keep on the cutting edge of their investigative techniques. And that is where biology comes in.¡±

    ¡°Biology?¡±

    ¡°Not every criminal will leave a convenient trail of clues leading to their ultimate defeat, Claudius. When things are too difficult for the eye to discern, the sciences will be utilised to level the playing field. Biology is just one of them. In the future ¨C biology will be an essential part of capturing criminals. It can be used to match blood samples from a crime scene, for example.¡± Claudius oohed at my description of this ¡®hypothetical¡¯ technology, completely unaware of the fact that this was something that would genuinely arrive in the near future.

    There was not a single speck of scepticism in his response, ¡°That sounds amazing.¡±

    ¡°All living beings follow a similar set of principles. If you¡¯d like to be a detective, learning about how the human body works will be essential to determining a cause of death.¡± I opened one of the books I had brought with me and displayed a diagram of the human body, pointing to the veins and organs that had been helpfully labelled for us. ¡°Each one of these pieces serves an important function. If something goes wrong with one of them, it could lead to injury, illness or death.¡±

    While I dove into my explanation about the importance of physiology, Claudius stared at me with a surprised look on his face. I was halfway through the page until I finally noticed and paused to let him catch up, ¡°Is something wrong?¡±

    He coughed and turned away, ¡°Oh. I was just thinking, you¡¯re a pretty good teacher. I wasn¡¯t expecting you to do all of this just for me.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°I¡¯m not above helping someone when they ask.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate it. I was listening to the whole thing, let¡¯s keep going.¡±

    I left it at that and went through my lecture, I even managed to include some of the botany subjects that Trevor had gone through without totally losing him. When the human biology unit arrived, Claudius was going to be leagues ahead of everyone else. I just hoped that it would ignite a curiosity in him that didn¡¯t need me to keep burning.

 Chapter 12

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know what to think of that girl...¡±

    Claudius had been sent for a loop by his tutoring session with Maria Walston-Carter. After all, he was the one who had declared her to be a vicious villainess based on her cold behaviour towards Samantha the week before. She struck him as a malicious character, with a gaze that could freeze the blood in your veins and a lot of skeletons hidden in her closet. All of his years spent reading mystery novels and crime reports had given him a superstitious approach towards women like her. But once he started listening to her introduction to biology, he couldn¡¯t tune out again. She was really darn smart ¨C and she had done exactly what the Professor had asked of her. He couldn¡¯t forget it if he tried.

    ¡°Are you perhaps starting to think that you made your judgement too hastily?¡± Maxwell asked as they walked to his dorm room.

    As they entered, Claudius immediately made a rush for a small noticeboard that had been placed up against the far wall. It was covered with various pieces of scrap paper, marked with ink covering his observations about the people at the academy.

    ¡°Oh, for goodness¡¯ sake,¡± Max sighed, ¡°What on Earth is this?¡± To him, they looked like nothing more than the ramblings of a madman. Surely Claude would be institutionalised if they found this stalker-like collection of tall tales and laundered gossip.

    ¡°Criminal profiling is key to being a good detective, even Lady Maria agrees with me on that.¡±

    ¡°The only criminal we¡¯re profiling here right now is you.¡±

    Claude ignored his snide comments and explained his process; ¡°I¡¯ve been asking around about her. I haven¡¯t recorded some of the more popular stories ¨C I only look for things that have a basis in reality. According to Talia, Maria doesn¡¯t have any friends aside from her. Still, she¡¯s the most popular woman in the academy.¡±

    Max shrugged, ¡°She likes to keep to herself. Just because everyone adores her doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯ll be friendly.¡±

    ¡°She loves shooting and has won several competitions, despite her young age. She comes from a wealthy and well-regarded family. She is also surprisingly athletic, according to some of the other girls.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going with this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure!¡± Claude chirped happily in his ignorance, ¡°I just thought it was interesting. She¡¯s a bit of a mystery, do you get what I mean?¡±

    Maxwell wouldn¡¯t admit to that much. Maria was the hot topic on everyone¡¯s lips, and her achievements had become increasingly outsized since her fans started treating her like God¡¯s gift to the green earth. She didn¡¯t speak to many others ¨C only doing so when spoken to. Talia had become the only regular acquaintance she kept, if only so that nobody could sit next to her during a lecture. The moment the period was over the two would part ways only to reunite a few minutes later in the next. Maxwell did not have the boundless curiosity that Claude did. He¡¯d seen a hundred noble girls who were much the same. They had eclectic interests, cold personalities, and loved being at the top of the table.

    ¡°If she finds out about this, she might kill you for real. Do the teachers know about this?¡±

    Claude brushed it off, ¡°I¡¯m just doing my due diligence as a member of the community.¡±

    ¡°Is that so? How would you feel if someone kept a board like this regarding you?¡±

    Claude pursed his lips and hummed, ¡°Um. I¡¯d be flattered.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure you would...¡±

    Claudius was as ever totally ignorant as to how to interact with girls his age. Everything had to be pressed through a prism of crime novella-tinged mania. What had started as childish games in the garden had turned into a genuine interest in the art of deduction. At least Maria had seemingly pushed him in the right direction in terms of taking his learning seriously. Perhaps some knowledge would do him good and make his obsessions less disruptive. Max and Claude were childhood friends ¨C he only wanted the best for him come what may.

    ¡°Samantha isn¡¯t a fan either,¡± Claudius added, ¡°She was very put off by the way that Maria spoke to her the last time.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense. I¡¯m not saying that you both have to like her or anything, I just think the villainess thing you keep pushing is strange.¡±

    At that moment, a blonde-topped head peered through the doorway and made her presence known. Samantha had heard them both speaking from the hallway and dipped inside to see what was going on. Claudius quickly reached out and tipped his board over into a face-down position so that she couldn¡¯t see it.

    ¡°What are you two up to?¡±

    Max laughed, ¡°Claudius is just telling me about one of his theories again. And wouldn¡¯t you know, it¡¯s all about Maria.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s expression turned sour as she recalled their last discussion. She had expected some rudeness from the noble girls at the academy thanks to her rural background, but it was a different thing to experience it for real. Most of the mean girls preferred to say things behind her back lest they receive prompt retribution from Samantha, who was both much taller and much stronger than everyone else. Her Father always did serve large portions when it came time for dinner. She crossed her arms, ¡°She certainly is a cold presence, but I hesitate to describe her as a villain like Claudius does.¡±

    ¡°I seem to recall you doing just that.¡±

    Samantha clarified, ¡°I was upset, it was just a figure of speech. I highly doubt that anyone in this building has the capacity to be evil as Claudius believes. She¡¯s just a... prickly character. That¡¯s all. I don¡¯t care so much as long as we¡¯re not forced into the same room together.¡±

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    But they were going to be forced into the same room many times over. Samantha and Maria were in the same class, after all ¨C and their dorm rooms were very close in proximity. Samantha¡¯s negative reaction had cooled somewhat since their confrontation, but it still stung. Despite that, Maria always ignored her when they passed each other in the halls, and she hadn¡¯t heard of her speaking ill behind her back.

    Maria didn¡¯t tend to speak with anybody at all, as a matter of fact. Samantha¡¯s kind nature demanded that she seek answers sooner rather than later; but how could she approach Maria without incurring her wrath? Perhaps Talia was the answer to her problem. She was closer to Maria than anyone else, even if they didn¡¯t spend time outside of classes together. Claudius brought the discussion back around to its starting point, ¡°She¡¯s an enigma for sure. But I have to say that she¡¯s also an excellent teacher, so I might have to rely on her some more to get my grades up in the future.¡±

    Maxwell waved him off and headed for the door, ¡°Just make sure you don¡¯t accuse her of being a villain to her face, Claude. You¡¯ve got a bad habit of blurting out whatever you¡¯re thinking.¡±

    ¡°I do not!¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°Yes, you do.¡±

    Claudius had accidentally revealed a fondness for Samantha¡¯s appearance a few days ago during a routine meal in the cafeteria. He insisted that there was nothing wrong with flattering someone ¨C though the redness in his cheeks said otherwise. He had gotten ahead of himself and tried to win some of Samantha¡¯s affection. Claudius shook his head, ¡°Do not.¡± Both of his friends had long since given up on trying to argue with him when he became stubborn like this. They decided to say their goodbyes and head back to their respective rooms, where further work away from the lecture hall awaited them.

    <hr>

    ¡°Burning the midnight oil again, Maria?¡±

    I looked up from the book I was reading to find the smiling fa?ade of Talia¡¯s erudite brother, Felipe. He was a regular sight in the libraries of the academy ¨C picking out new learning material so that he could assist those who needed it. His passion for teaching had opened a path to a future within the academy itself, or any other higher learning institution that wanted to make use of his talents. I liked Felipe.

    He was respectful of the distance I kept from others, and being a side character already in a relationship meant that I didn¡¯t have to worry about accidentally triggering a flag and going down his ¡®route.¡¯ I scoffed at my own monologue, why was I thinking of these people as nothing more than fictile statues made for my amusement? Every piece of evidence had made it clear to me that this world was the real deal.

    ¡°I was just curious about some of the things that you mentioned during our last session, so I decided to clarify them for myself.¡±

    He peered down at the book I was using and smiled, ¡°Careful, you¡¯re heading into some pretty advanced material there. Not that there¡¯s anything wrong with that ¨C but it might make some of our later lessons a little boring.¡±

    I preferred to dig my own grave than accept someone else¡¯s, ¡°I¡¯ll survive.¡±

    All of the lessons were boring anyway. Anything outside of our magic lectures was well-tread ground for me. The only enjoyment I could derive from them was the novelty of seeing a less-developed understanding of certain subjects presented to us. Part of it was keeping things easy for the first year, but sometimes it was obvious that the subject being spoken of was not yet fully explored or understood by the scientific community. However, I couldn¡¯t assume things about this world so easily. As a perfect replica of the game, there were elements and supernatural forces that defined much of the world¡¯s history and formation.

    One of the foremost oddities was the creation of humanity ¨C which was the result of divine intervention by a goddess named Adelite; no, not the mineral. A portion of her power was then passed down through the generations until it came to rest within a certain someone in my class. Adelite worship was the dominant social and religious leaning in Walser, though Samantha¡¯s place as a ¡®chosen one¡¯ was a piece of evidence that supported her existence.

    On the other hand, many players of the game had theorized that Maria was a dark opposite to Samantha. Blessed with Adelite¡¯s powers but fostered within a negative environment. I never played the later entries in the series as I held no particular affection for the original, and several of the endings involved Maria being killed or exiled in dramatically ironic ways. I had no idea if she ever returned to be the main antagonist again. I needn¡¯t worry myself with such things regardless, I was in full control of my own actions here and had no intent on making trouble. I wanted to keep my head down, go about my business, and hopefully come out of the other side without leaving a trail of negative consequences in my wake as I was liable to do in my past life.

    ¡°I think you¡¯ll become an expert mage in time. It¡¯s wonderful to see so many students enthused with the art, even if it is becoming less contemporary. At the very least I want to preserve it for future generations to understand and enjoy. If not for the sake of industry, than the appreciation and beauty of it.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Time will prove you right, Felipe. There will always be those who are held under the spell of a classical art. My Father is one of them.¡±

    ¡°But I heard you¡¯re a deft hand with a firearm as well. How did you convince your Father to let you participate in shooting?¡±

    It took a lot of begging, pleading, and a fair amount of making myself look like a sad puppy.

    ¡°I asked nicely.¡±

    Felipe laughed, ¡°According to some of the girls in your year, ¡®nice¡¯ isn¡¯t a word in your vocabulary. They speak of you like you¡¯re the Ice Queen of the academy. Theodore¡¯s admirers aren¡¯t going to like that.¡±

    I sighed and looked back down at my book, ¡°They can rest assured that I have no relationship with Prince Theodore.¡±

    ¡°That may be the case, but such salacious rumours are common currency in these gilded halls. There are a great many students who have accumulated unearned infamy for a variety of perceived misdoings.¡±

    I had plenty of material misdoings to damn me already.

    The discussion was upended by the arrival of his fianc¨¦, Beatrice Booker. She trotted into the library with a wily smile on her face, which lit up even further when she spotted Felipe speaking with me. ¡°Oh, Felipe. There you are!¡±

    ¡°Beatrice, what are you doing here at this hour?¡±

    She approached the table and straightened out her skirt, ¡°The prefect sent me to grab you. They have been tearing their hair out because their precious schedule is being disrupted by tardy students.¡±

    Felipe¡¯s voice was drizzled with sarcasm, ¡°Tardy? I wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±

    Beatrice looked to me, ¡°Oh, and if it isn¡¯t Lady Maria herself! It¡¯s so nice to finally meet you.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is all mine,¡± I responded politely.

    ¡°The rumours certainly didn¡¯t undersell your beauty, and I love the way that you¡¯ve styled your hair!¡± she gushed, pouring over every little detail in my outward appearance. ¡°I think the other girls are going to have serious competition when you start to grow into your uniform.¡±

    She was more optimistic about the grip of puberty than I was. I hadn¡¯t grown an inch since it started. And for that matter ¨C I was already the number one most desired bachelorette in the entire student body! Growing a pair of lumps on my chest was sure to make the problem worse.

    ¡°We¡¯d best be away, Beatrice. We wouldn¡¯t want to upset the prefects further.¡±

    Beatrice giggled and waved goodbye, ¡°See you again, Lady Maria.¡± I bowed my head in deference as they left me to my studies. They were pleasant enough company, but I was still resolved to keep my distance from everybody. Hellfire would come for me one day, and I didn¡¯t want to drag anyone else down with me.

    I flipped the page, ¡°Chapter Five, liquid-based magic...¡±

 Chapter 13

    The second week of our schooling approached in turn, and the status quo was starting to be cemented by the various social groups throughout the academy. If I were the socially-minded sort, I¡¯d have worried about missing my opportunity to make fast friends and connections while I had the chance. It served my purposes just fine. Even if I wanted to make friends in the future, my reputation as the most eligible noble lady in the academy would allow me to quickly assemble a list of suitable candidates.

    When I was an assassin, all of my personal relationships were utilitarian pieces of social engineering designed to make my job easier. That was the only time when I ever made those kinds of connections in my past life. It was easy to get what you wanted when you convinced the other party that you were their friend. That was another reason why sociopaths didn¡¯t make good assassins. It was a tough way to live your life, but that was the path I chose. People were unreliable, they¡¯d talk with each other about your secrets or put you into tough situations. It was safer for me to keep a healthy distance from others.

    The closest thing I had to ¡®friends¡¯ was Talia and her brother. He¡¯d taken a shine to me and Samantha thanks to our magical talents, something which also occurred in the original game. There it served as a source of tension between the two but I had no reason to instigate a fight over him spending time with both of us. He wasn¡¯t a romantic interest anyway, so the prospect of things developing that far were close to none. He was extremely passionate about developing talented mages in the academy. In the words of our tutor - he was a dyed-in-the-wool mage fanatic.

    Still, even with his boundless enthusiasm for the curriculum, we could only go as fast as our slowest member. Predictably the class clown had turned out to be Adrian. Not only did he do everything in his power to avoid studying the required material before our lessons, but he also played it fast and loose when it came to listening to their instructions. It would have been in his best interest to stick to shooting instead, at least there he could enjoy the instant gratification of blowing something out of the sky or hitting a target without months of opening study. I fully expected him to drop out in the near future. The rest of the class was much more enthused, as was I.

    The first thing we needed to learn was how to regularly connect with our inner magical senses. Maintaining it through the ¡®shock¡¯ was the first challenge that every mage had to surmount if they wanted to learn further. All of us, with the exception of Adrian, had been doing so regularly during our spare time. It was a sixth sense that was unlike any of the others, and the brain required time to adjust to it. A more scientific analysis of this phenomenon was in the works, but much of the material we were covering was based on information passed down over thousands of years. For our purposes it was unnecessary to know at the moment.

    ¡°Magic is in the air that surrounds us,¡± Miss Jennings explained curtly for the benefit of Adrian, ¡°The level of magic concentration dictates what spells we can cast, and how easy it will be. These academy grounds are built in a low-pressure ¡®well¡¯ that sucks the magical threads inwards. That makes it the perfect place for us to teach you the foundational skills you¡¯ll need.¡±

    Felipe followed on, ¡°One of the simplest and most important spells is moving the air. For the level of detail in which we manipulate the elements around us, the air is an invaluable tool that allows us to arrange our different pieces into a working order. At an advanced level, it also allows us to manipulate the surrounding air pressure on a larger scale ¨C which you have seen first hand when I cast the lightning spell last week. Doing so without that measure would be very dangerous.¡±

    Miss Jennings really emphasized that point to us; ¡°Indeed. Safety is the number one priority by which you must always operate. Do not utilise your magic in enclosed spaces, around others, and without express permission from the relevant parties. What you all possess is a wonderful thing, but you must temper your excitement with an equal dose of caution. I¡¯ve seen people lose eyes, fingers, and other small body parts because they take this process too lightly.¡±

    That¡¯s what happens when you give the magical equivalent of a hand grenade to teenagers. Adrian rolled his eyes and took a step back from the lineup so that Jennings wouldn¡¯t ring him up on it. It was going to be his loss if he ignored her warnings ¨C and I wasn¡¯t going to offer him a shoulder to cry on if he lost his trigger finger.

    ¡°Thankfully, moving wind currents is harmless in an open space like this. So I encourage all of you to test the limits and learn everything you can while you have the chance. The most important thing to remember is how you can push and pull the air. You should make equal use of both techniques to see the maximum result.¡±

    The group was split into two. Claudius, Maxwell and I were handed over to Felipe, while Adrian was given a stern talking to by Miss Jennings for neglecting his studies. From her perspective, it was a selfish thing to demand additional time from the teachers because he wasn¡¯t putting any effort into things. I had to agree. People who had no respect for the system dragged everyone else down with them. Adrian had already caught the ire of our other tutors, especially the math teacher, who had clipped him around the ear for making an unbecoming comment about one of the girls in our class.

    ¡°I hope that all of you have taken the time to read up on the basics before today,¡± Felipe began, turning his attention to Claude and Max. He had already seen me shooting ahead of schedule in the library a few days before. Both boys nodded happily and smirked. ¡°Very good! I have high hopes for this year¡¯s cohort. When I did my foundational year, there were only three of us, and one dropped out before the end of the first module was over...¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t so sure that this magic stuff would be for me ¨C but it¡¯s actually very interesting,¡± Max replied. ¡°Nobody in my family has ever spent much time studying it. They all prefer to stick to more practical fields of business.¡±

    Claude was back to his usual self, ¡°I hope that some of these spells can help me when I eventually become a world-class detective.¡±

    Felipe quirked a brow at his ambition, ¡°Well, I suppose it could. The additional senses and your newly found ability to discern different elements could be utilised in such a way. Though that would imply that someone was killed using a chemical solution. Something like a knife wound or gunshot would be too plainly obvious, I believe.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. They¡¯re only going to call me for the really unsolvable crimes anyway!¡±

    I had to despair at Claude¡¯s blind optimism.

    Felipe was wise enough to leave him alone for the time being and move into teaching in earnest. It was still surprising to me the exact level of precision that this demanded. They were speaking of rearranging the molecules in the air in such a way that we could cause reactions and other oddities. Why such a supernatural system still followed a set of pseudo-scientific principles was strange enough on its own. I knew from the game that magic could be used for a great many things, like attacking, healing, defending or other utility purposes. Because of this, magic was strongly associated with certain classes and professions. Nobles liked magic as it could be used as a status symbol, blacksmiths liked it because it could be used in the forges and to make high quality products, and remote industrial areas needed mages to carry out sophisticated processes that were too expensive and complex to do with machinery.

    When the mage index was introduced, a strong opposition of industrialists, intelligentsia and workers formed out of a collective anxiety about such measures. It would make finding, retaining and training mages much harder. A lot of candidates would be scared away by having to sign up for such a government database; that would translate to increased demand and higher costs for the employers. The mages themselves would have been happy with an increased wage, but their privacy concerns won out over their economic interests. It was in the aftermath of the crisis that led to the separation of royalty and parliament that saw the law pushed through. The public had seen and heard too many stories of magic-wielding guerrillas causing trouble for the local police, and so it was. I knew that it was going to be problematic for me in the future. I was a high-grade mage. It was entirely possible that the academy had already sent my name and background to the government for confirmation. If I had any intention of going back to my old ways ¨C that knowledge would ward me from it.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    It was lucky that I came from an affluent family, then.

    Felipe was again showcasing his credentials as a future teacher, easily guiding us through the process and allowing us the space to experiment at the same time. Soon enough, we had all managed to twist our hands and palms to summon a blustery gust of wind from above. It was not necessary to use such hand movements, but visualisation techniques like this would make our lives much easier. It was a form of cognitive association that would enhance our memory and control. Felipe clapped his hands in applause as I was the third and final student to succeed in manipulating a current, my black hair whipping about wildly as it passed over my body.

    ¡°Excellently done everyone. These are broad strokes, the kind you might see used with an industrial furnace to control the temperature or ensure that it stays alight. But it is very similar in nature to ¡®assembly,¡¯ which is what we call the construction of a more advanced and specific magic like lightning.¡±

    I peered around his body to see what the other group was doing. A visibly flustered Adrian stood with reddened cheeks and stiff arms. Miss Jennings wasn¡¯t going easy on him. He was the last one to be tested on this, and he was already struggling. Claude and Max shared in my curiosity, glancing over and taking a look for themselves. It took him a painfully long time to finally grasp it and summon the wind to his side. When he did, he puffed his chest out like he had never been frustrated by it in the first place. His theatre was only convincing to himself ¨C and not to any of the others who had heard it all before. He thought he was hot shit until reality slapped him in the face.

    Felipe blew worried air through his teeth, ¡°Oh dear. I think that Adrian is going to be problematic. Miss Jennings won¡¯t like that at all.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Max asked.

    Felipe hushed his voice so that they couldn¡¯t hear us, ¡°She¡¯s all about professionalism, and she doesn¡¯t have the patience for people who think they can slide by while inputting the minimum amount of effort. If she thinks that Adrian isn¡¯t going to wise up she¡¯ll kick him from the class.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Felipe moved along to the next topic; ¡°We¡¯d only planned to show you this much, I¡¯m consistently surprised at how well you all handle the material and practice.¡±

    Max laid it on thick, ¡°We have a pair of excellent teachers.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure about my own skills, but Miss Jennings is one-of-a-kind. I¡¯ve never met anyone with such a deep and vivid knowledge of magic. I¡¯m extremely privileged to have learned under her for so long.¡±

    The second group had finally resolved whatever issue Adrian was causing, so Miss Jennings waved us back over. Once everyone was safely assembled at the testing range, she decided to break up the period early.

    ¡°Excellent work today. I¡¯d like all of you to read the next two chapters of Virmich¡¯s Foundational Magic. If you lack a copy, there are several available in the student study hall that you can use as you like. But please do not leave notes in them. Other students will rue your name if you do.¡±

    There was a collective ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am,¡± from the group.

    ¡°Well done again everybody! Go ahead and get some food before it¡¯s gone, and we¡¯ll see you in the lecture room next week at the same time.¡±

    The class was dismissed. Adrian couldn¡¯t get away from the range fast enough. He powered his way across the back yard and into the academy¡¯s main entrance without once looking back. Getting scolded by the teacher had gotten to him. There was nothing worse to a blowhard than a wounded pride. I sighed and turned to look at Felipe, who sported a concerned look about his behaviour.

    ¡°Ah, would you like to speak with me, Maria?¡±

    I shook my head and conjured an excuse for gawking, ¡°No, there¡¯s nothing in particular. I¡¯m just concerned about Adrian, that¡¯s all.¡±

    He crossed his arms and leaned back against a nearby tree, ¡°He¡¯s going to have to learn the value of patience soon. You¡¯ll never get anywhere in magic expecting results right away. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s heard the same criticism from every other teacher already.¡±

    The yard was already empty of any other people. A stiff breeze rolled through as I felt the wind chill soak into my bones. It was a sunny day, but not a warm one. We were only a few weeks into the new year and spring had yet to arrive. The hardy trees that surrounded the academy had endured and retained their greenery through the snowy months. I was always stunned by the natural and artificial beauty of the campus grounds. It was a mirror image of what I had seen in the game. Felipe pushed away from his resting place and nodded towards the main building, ¡°We¡¯d better hurry up and grab something before they clean the buffet out. Early dismissals don¡¯t come every week.¡±

    Just as he spoke, the clock struck six and the bell tower started to ring. From the outside it was an almost deafening metallic bong that made my entire body shake. Felipe laughed at my reaction, having grown used to it over the five years he had been attending the school. It continued, each one sending out a bass-heavy tone. I looked up at the tower responsible and briefly admired the carefully crafted stonework that accentuated the edges and windowsills. As my eyes moved further upwards ¨C they were drawn to an unusual glimmer coming from within. There was a silhouette standing there, holding something in their hands. Old instincts roared to life as the familiar sight caused my pace to quicken. The bell chimed again, and again, and finally...

    I grabbed Felipe by the collar and dragged him behind the tree as the next impact was aided by the addition of a sharp crack. The tree exploded outwards into shards of bark and wood as the bullet ripped through it. I didn¡¯t give them a chance to fire again. I continued to drag him further into the woodland beneath the cover of the branches. At such an elevated angle, they would not be able to see us without moving to a lower floor. By the time they did that, I¡¯d have relocated us to a safer location. Felipe was stunned silent by the abrupt action. I didn¡¯t wait, stop, or explain what I was doing. There was an urgency to where we were going. We broke back out onto the main avenue at the front of the building, well out of sight of the clocktower from which the shot was fired.

    Someone had tried to kill me.

    It was a sobering realisation. All of my worst fears were now being played out. Felipe had nearly died in the crossfire through his proximity with me. He panted and begged for a moment as I kept a vigilant gaze towards the other vantage points that the would-be assassin could use to shoot at us. Had Felipe even noticed that it was a gunshot that shattered the tree beside us? I took a deep breath and set my nerves straight. This was nothing new to me; I had always told myself not to get too invested in living this peaceful life. I rued the fact that my only means of protection was stored in secret inside my trunk. This was the kind of situation where a gun of my own would be essential. As the bell finally turned silent, I knew that the killer had missed his window of opportunity. Another shot would be plainly audible to the people inside.

    ¡°W-What in the Goddess¡¯ name was that?¡± Felipe cried, finally finding the words to speak.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I lied, ¡°I saw someone in the clocktower, and a second later the tree shattered. It was a good thing that I pulled you out of the way.¡±

    Felipe was shaken up. As you should be when someone fires a bullet right next to you. I didn¡¯t even know I could move or react that quickly. Everything had been a total blur from the moment that I noticed them. I had a million questions of my own and no good answers. Who had fired the shot, and why were they targeting me? On top of that, I now had to worry about concealing the truth from Felipe. He was a smart kid; plain-faced lies weren¡¯t going to pass muster.

    ¡°My heart is going to stop...¡±

    ¡°Just take some deep breaths,¡± I said, kneeling down and helping him back up to his feet.

    ¡°W-We have to report this to the principal. There¡¯s a killer loose on the campus!¡±

    I grimaced ¨C it was unlikely that the bullet survived intact from hitting the tree¡¯s trunk, and the killer had carefully timed his attempt so that there were no witnesses and the sound of the bell tower to create deniability about the sound. Whoever it was, they were no amateur. How long had they been waiting to spring this plan into action? It must have taken the full length of my stay to plan it out. They knew we¡¯d be there in the yard at that time of day, for one thing. They also had access to a gun accurate enough for a long-range shot, presumably a larger rifle. I couldn¡¯t push Felipe away from reporting the incident without looking suspicious, so I acquiesced and nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Very well. I hope that they can find a suitable solution for this issue. They should take security very seriously.¡±

    ¡°They do,¡± Felipe replied, ¡°There are watchmen at the front gate at all times of day.¡±

    ¡°In this case ¨C it seems that those measures are inadequate. The culprit is already within the building as we speak.¡±

    Felipe¡¯s face was a mask of dread as the implication settled in, ¡°So... neither of us are safe?¡±

    I didn¡¯t know how to answer that either. I shrugged and pulled him along towards the main entrance. Being inside was a lot safer than outside at the moment. We needed to keep moving so that we didn¡¯t present them with another chance. I doubted that Felipe was the one being targeted, it just didn¡¯t add up. This was the moment I had been waiting for. Years spent waiting for the penny to finally drop, the upending of the peaceful second chance I had been given, and for the punishment to begin. Who else could they be gunning after but me?

    ¡°Felipe ¨C I want you to go and report this to the principal. If they ask for more evidence, come and find me.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to stay out of trouble until you speak with them, what else?¡±

    If I were a superstitious person I would have crossed my fingers.

 Chapter 14

    While Felipe reported the incident to the principal, I used my deception to head up to the third story of the building and into the base of the clocktower. First, I had to take a quick detour to my dorm room and retrieve my pistol. I tucked it into my blazer¡¯s pocket so that it couldn¡¯t be seen. I was fairly sure that the culprit would have moved on by the time I reached his previous location, but it never hurt to be prepared for the worst.

    The door was already unlocked when I arrived. I quickly got onto my knees and checked the keyhole ¨C there was no sign of a forced entry. Had they stolen a key? This area was usually off-limits to the students and non-maintenance staff members. Urgency guided my every move as I entered and started my search for clues.

    The primary concern on my list was the shell casing. It was an indicative remnant that could clue me in on what the assassin was like. A professional would always clean up the evidence and take it for disposal somewhere away from the crime scene, but you¡¯d be surprised by the number of people who didn¡¯t go to that bare minimum of effort. In the modern day where your every purchase is easily traceable and tracked in a hidden database, it was profoundly simple for the police to cross-reference it and find your home address and identity. No such database existed here ¨C but knowing the calibre and make of the ammunition would assist me in finding the shooter.

    The clocktower was not insulated or heated, so it immediately chilled me through to the bone as I stood on the bottom floor. It was a spartan area, filled with little more than old, discarded furniture and tools used by the handymen. A handful of old tarps covered up some of the leftovers. I briefly glanced beneath them but found nothing of interest. The gunman had been watching us from the third floor. I turned back to the rickety wooden stairs and ascended them with no small amount of caution.

    My hand was tucked into my jacket, ready to pull my gun and fire at any moment. The second floor was barren. Completely empty of anything at all. That meant the third floor would be where the action was happening. I took a deep breath and steadied my nerves as I peered up through a gap in the bannister. A single wooden crate rested next to the window that they had used. It was still left open, flapping back and forth in the high winds.

    There was no sign of my shooter, and it was unlikely that they had fled to the higher floors from here. They must have gone back into the main building and hidden their firearm somewhere. Since everyone was battling to score their favourite food from the dining hall, that meant that the halls and studies were deserted. They could have concealed their weapon inside of a case and carried it through without scrutiny. Conscious of the time pressure that I was under, I hurried to the window and looked down at the floor.

    It wouldn¡¯t be long before someone came searching just as I had. I didn¡¯t want to be here looking guilty when they did. After a few moments of panicked searching, I spotted something out of place against the wooden skirting that ran around the floor. I knelt down and picked it up. It was the shell casing that I was looking for.

    I¡¯d have to study the markings later. I pocketed it and headed back to the corridor outside. Felipe had not yet convinced them to come looking in the tower, so I rushed to my room and put the pistol back into its hiding place. The shell casing was thrown into the back of my drawer. I didn¡¯t feel any discord about snatching the evidence. It was unlikely that they¡¯d be able to find the culprit using just the casing anyway. I wasn¡¯t going to rest until I found the person responsible and taught them what happened when they messed with me. For now, I needed a convincing interpretation of events to sell to the teachers and Felipe. A few minutes after I returned, there was a knock at my door.

    When I pulled it open, Miss Jennings was waiting with a serious expression on her face. She brushed down the ruffles in her blouse and addressed me curtly, ¡°Felipe has come to us with a serious accusation to share. I¡¯d like to hear your perspective on the matter.¡± I bowed my head and invited her inside. She remained close to the door as I closed it behind her.

    ¡°What did he say?¡±

    ¡°He alleged that someone fired a gun at you. Though he lacks information on the matter. He asked me to come and speak with you. He said that you were so shaken up that you decided to come back here instead of going with him.¡± That was a very generous interpretation of events, but it helped me skirt around portraying myself as a hero. I put on my best sad face and nodded to her assertion.

    ¡°Indeed, we were. My heart has only just ceased its incessant beating. To think that such a horrendous crime could be committed on these grounds, and against someone so young.¡± Miss Jennings¡¯ reaction told me that she had not believed Felipe¡¯s account. Why would she? It was an extremely absurd incident for what was a sleepy private college tucked into the hills. It would be the first such occurrence in the school¡¯s long history.

    ¡°Felipe is not one to launder rumours for the sake of mischief, though I must confess to my own scepticism on such a claim.¡±

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    ¡°If you investigate the practice range, you¡¯ll see where one of the trees was hit by the bullet. I believe that I saw the gunman myself ¨C hiding away on one of the clocktower¡¯s floors. There was a figure in one of the windows. I¡¯m afraid that I couldn¡¯t see the finer details. The interior was very dark.¡±

    Miss Jennings was silent for a few minutes as she mulled over my testimony. I pushed her back into awareness by offering one more piece of information; ¡°I believe that the gunman was waiting for the bell to chime before shooting. That was why nobody inside heard it, or wrote it off as nothing more than a minor disturbance.¡±

    ¡°One of the other teachers did mention a strange sound at the time. If they were waiting for you in the clock tower, they must have known that you and Felipe were going to be there at that time. We¡¯ll have to investigate closely to find the one responsible.¡±

    I offered her a reassuring smile, ¡°We are in your capable hands, Ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°But I must ask you to be discreet. While my singular priority is the safety of every student, the principal has made it clear that reckless panic would only make our job harder.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°You want to keep it a secret?¡±

    She shook her head; ¡°If it was my choice to make, everyone would be informed. I¡¯m afraid that the principal is more concerned with keeping everyone calm. I hope that you understand his perspective on the matter.¡±

    I did, perfectly well in fact. If the parents found out about there being an attempted murderer on the loose, they¡¯d pull their kids from the academy, and that meant that the money would go with them. It was in his economic interest to cover the whole thing up. I couldn¡¯t rely on his leadership resulting in answers being found. That conflict between finding the truth and concealing it from the students would only cause problems in the future. It was a tale as old as time. I had to do it myself.

    ¡°With that in mind, it¡¯s clear to us that you will not be safe alone. We don¡¯t want to make you or Felipe uncomfortable with constant surveillance, so for now we¡¯d like to ask you to remain in areas of the academy where there are other students and teachers present. That should offer some protection from any further attempts on your life.¡±

    ¡°I will, Ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°If you remember anything else about the incident, please come to the staff room and inform us right away.¡±

    ¡°I will, Ma¡¯am,¡± I repeated.

    She paused and studied my befuddled expression, ¡°I have to say ¨C you seem rather composed considering the circumstances, Maria.¡±

    ¡°Ah. As the first in line to inherit the family name, it¡¯s only right that I live to exemplify the standard set by my Father. I must remain firm and forward-thinking, no matter the situation.¡±

    I made all of that up on the spot but it was enough to avert her suspicion for the time being. She bowed and made her exit from my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I headed to my desk and pulled out a notebook so I could scribble down some of my theories. There were a lot of people in the academy and I didn¡¯t know all of them. I started with the acquaintances I had encountered. The people in my magic elective course were all disqualified by the nature of their presence on the range just before the shooting. Adrian had made himself sparse very quickly, but was it really quick enough for him to reach the third floor of the clock tower and fire on us? The shooter¡¯s complete lack of accuracy seemed to match what I had seen of him during our various competitions.

    I opened my drawer, allowing the empty casing to roll to the front. It wasn¡¯t a manufacturer''s proprietary ammunition type. It certainly didn¡¯t belong to a pistol. I held it up to the dying evening light and studied the markings printed into the brass exterior. Hurlock Arms Co. was one of the foremost producers of ammunition in Walser, so it was no surprise to see their name imprinted onto it.

    There was also a date and batch number, though I couldn¡¯t parse it without expert help on what the numbers meant. I estimated that the bullet was several years old, presumably taken from the shooter¡¯s storage. It must have been used in conjunction with a rifle. You wouldn¡¯t get any accuracy shooting from that range with a pistol or carbine. I put the casing back into its hiding place and returned to my guessing game.

    I had to accept the possibility that I didn¡¯t know who the shooter was. They could be nothing more than a hired gun sent by a competing company looking to get one over on my dear old dad. As his only daughter, I was next in line to inherit his property and businesses. It could even have been a member of my own extended family who stood to benefit from my death. Father never invited them around to the manor for a visit, so my memory of them was extremely limited.

    It would be difficult to isolate and interrogate the assassin. I was a master of the craft ¨C but some things were just too unreasonable. They were more likely to die during a gunfight than sit down and exposit about their hidden motivations or benefactors. ¡°Damn it,¡± I muttered, placing my quill back down. I was getting nowhere fast with such little evidence to go on. I headed over to the wardrobe and changed into my night clothes now that the teacher had paid me a visit.

    I needed a way to keep my gun on my person without everyone finding out about it. I didn¡¯t feel safe walking around the grounds without something to fight back with. I wasn¡¯t helpless without a gun ¨C but some situations demanded the flexibility that one provided. I had killed my fair share of people using my bare hands or other cruder weapons.

    Perhaps a holder beneath my skirt would serve that purpose? They were long enough that there were no angles from where an outside observer could see something strapped to my thigh. The discomfort would be a small price to pay for putting myself into a more advantageous position. The problem then was finding a suitable holster to do it with. I couldn¡¯t exactly visit my local gun store or order one online. Everything had to be done in person, and finding a shop that sold what I was looking for would be tricky. The nearby city was very large, a winding labyrinth of streets and tall buildings that only a native resident could navigate confidently.

    The bed depressed beneath me as I lay on top and stared at the canopy above. My mind was too occupied with a thousand different things for me to sleep restfully.

    At some point the fatigue became too much, and I passed out regardless.

 Chapter 15

    Contrary to my worst expectations, the staff of the academy had somehow managed to keep the incident quiet for three whole days. Given that they were constantly surrounded by noblemen and women for whom gossip was their favourite pastime ¨C it came as a pleasant surprise. I was never once approached by another member of the student body and needled for my part in it. Though that hot streak came to an end on the first day of the next week. Talia waved me over while we waited outside of the lecture hall for our teacher to arrive. She had the good sense to keep it quiet though.

    ¡°I heard about what happened from my brother. He says that you saved his life!¡±

    I cast a paranoid glance at some of the other students who were loitering nearby, ¡°He told you?¡±

    ¡°Of course he did. I¡¯m his sister, after all. He couldn¡¯t just keep something that traumatising to himself. But I¡¯m not going to let anybody else know about it. He gets enough unwanted attention as it is. I just wanted to thank you for protecting him; I didn¡¯t know you were such a deft hand!¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be thankful for at the moment. I strongly suspect that they were targeting me. My presence may have been what endangered him in the first place.¡±

    Talia was insistent, ¡°Regardless, you risked your own life for his. So, thank you.¡±

    ¡°Do what you please. Just don¡¯t expect me to be your hero from now on.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s the Maria I know and love,¡± Talia laughed. She was putting on a brave face, but it was obvious that she felt troubled by the news. She was right to be. Anyone would feel the same if they learned that a family member was nearly shot and killed. People dealt with shock in many different ways, Talia¡¯s was to put on a smile and try to see the light side of things. She turned pensive and whispered to me, ¡°Didn¡¯t they tell you to stay around other people? That¡¯ll be tough for a lone wolf like you.¡±

    ¡°Is that your way of asking to spend time with me?¡±

    Talia waved her arms in mock denial, ¡°No! I wouldn¡¯t dare of using such an incident to advantage myself. I was just worried, that¡¯s all.¡±

    I was being too harsh on her. I softened my stance and sighed wearily, ¡°I normally spend most of my time in the public areas of the campus anyway. You needn¡¯t worry about me, I can handle it.¡±

    ¡°I know you have a stellar reputation for shooting ¨C but you don¡¯t carry a gun with you everywhere...¡±

    My smile became less convincing as I gritted my teeth.

    ¡°...But I suppose you did manage to evade the culprit once. A confident young lady should always act decisively in times of crisis.¡±

    Talia had said her thanks and gotten some kind of discussion out of me. I remained unwilling to call her a ¡®friend,¡¯ even though it was a distinction without a purpose. This kind of casual chatter was what friends did. The rational part of my brain was at war with my paranoia. Calling her a friend wasn¡¯t going to change the calculus here, I wasn¡¯t going to curse her by making it clear that we were closer than I liked to let on. I really was turning into a crappy tsundere with every passing day. As the silence between us stretched on, the decision was made to throw Talia a bone for once.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind your company, Talia. Apologies if I gave you that impression.¡±

    Talia blinked the stars from her eyes, ¡°Oh my goodness. The Lady Maria Walston-Carter, offering someone a compliment?¡±

    I wagged my finger at her, ¡°I do so from time to time when such praise is earned. I have to give people the credit they are due.¡±

    Being ¡®friends¡¯ was going to be more of a problem for her than for me. Some of the other girls who leaned on the meaner side of the spectrum had been infuriated by her close proximity to me, yet made no such attempts to familiarise themselves with me in lieu of merely speaking ill about Talia. In their eyes my isolation was beautiful and worthy of admiration; a lonesome, lily-white flower atop a rolling hill. Or they merely believed that if they couldn¡¯t crowd around me, nobody could.

    It was too bad that Talia didn¡¯t need my permission to sit next to me. She seemed a little awestruck that she had managed to wear me down to this point ¨C but even my coldest persona couldn¡¯t stop the foolish from chasing after me. Talia was happy no matter what I said. Even when I had given her this much, and she understood my feelings on the matter, being close to me was a big achievement. Some of the girls would kill for the opportunity to be in the same room with me, never mind speak to me on a regular basis.

    There was no time for us to talk further, as the teacher had finally arrived for our mathematics lesson. We followed Samantha and the others into the lecture theatre and took our usual spots near the front. Samantha still felt sore about how I had rejected her when we first met, but I got an ominous feeling that something bad would happen if we became friends in the same way as I had with Talia. I couldn¡¯t explain that it was all for their sake, there was no way that they¡¯d ever believe me.

    Fictional characters are one thing - but I had to act under the assumption that everything I was doing was real. I had a set of principles and standards that I would not stray from even if I believed that there were no consequences. I refocused my mind on the lesson and tried to give myself a break from worrying about killers and relationships ¨C unaware of the eyes that were drilling a hole into the back of my skull from two rows behind me.

    <hr>

    Claudius could smell something fishy going on.

    It wasn¡¯t just that Maria Walston-Carter had seemingly befriended Talia Escobarus; if anything, she should have done something about making friends sooner! Even the coldest people had a circle of connections and friendships. It was a vanishingly small circle, but a circle nonetheless. No, it was an overpowering feeling of strangeness that had come about after their previous magic lesson.

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    Claudius had left Maria and Talia¡¯s brother alone together in a mad rush to get the hot food before it was snatched up. Now every teacher looked like they¡¯d learnt something that they wish they hadn¡¯t. He could see the way their eyes kept turning in Maria¡¯s direction, with a glint in their irises that he couldn¡¯t place. What were they thinking?

    His first thought had been an illicit affair between Maria and Felipe. It was scandalous, shocking, and would have been kept secret thanks to his already existing engagement with Beatrice Booker. That idea hit a dead end very quickly as Claudius reasoned that Maria would prefer someone her own age. Additionally, Maria was such a stickler for the rules that there was no way she¡¯d ever steal someone¡¯s fianc¨¦ like that.

    The girl wouldn¡¯t dare break curfew even for a few minutes, she was always paying rapt attention in class, and aside from some mean-spirited words to Samantha, she kept to herself and did not engage in bullying. Claudius¡¯ instincts, which had been finely honed through years of reading fantastical accounts of criminal investigations, had erred him on the side of caution. Maria didn¡¯t come off like a culprit to him. If that was the case - then it meant that she was the victim instead.

    But he just couldn¡¯t imagine Maria being victimised! She was utterly terrifying, with a gaze that could freeze the soul in your chest and enough raw talent to blow her way through any problem without breaking a sweat. While one-half of the academy admired her for being the perfect lady, her naysayers feared her. The end result was the same. Maria emitted an ¡®aura¡¯ that kept people well away from her proximity. What kind of psychopath could muster the bold-faced courage to do such a thing? Whoever it was, they were in a world of trouble. They¡¯d better hope that Maria didn¡¯t get her hands on them.

    ¡°Why are you staring at Maria so much?¡± Samantha whispered as the teacher scribbled notes onto the chalkboard. Each noisy intermission summoned forth a torrent of hushed conversations between the students.

    Claudius looked up and crossed his arms, ¡°Nothing. Well, not nothing. But I¡¯m just curious. I feel like she might have been involved in something.¡±

    ¡°Something?¡± Samantha repeated incredulously, ¡°What kind of something?¡±

    ¡°I heard that every single teacher was called to the staff chamber for a meeting a few nights ago, and they came out looking as pale as the white ghosts you¡¯d find on the high moors. They¡¯re keeping an eye on her, haven¡¯t you noticed the way they¡¯re looking at her?¡±

    Samantha shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t tend to pay attention to that kind of thing.¡±

    ¡°If you did ¨C you¡¯d think the same way.¡±

    Samantha had heard this all before. Every day Claudius had a new pet mystery that he seemed determined to solve. They ranged from the mundane, like who placed the books back in the wrong place in the study, to the absurd, like his belief that one of the staff members had a dark and mysterious past just waiting to be uncovered. His very real powers of observation were constantly undermined by his lack of reasoning; leading him to contrasting statements and ideas.

    Nothing got past him, but he always put the pieces together in the wrong order. It was for that reason that Claudius had correctly noted the sudden emergence of paranoid behaviour in the staff members. They were all concealing a major secret from the students, one about a clear and present danger to everyone¡¯s safety.

    Maxwell was not amused, ¡°Just ignore him. He¡¯s being weird again.¡±

    Claudius smirked, ¡°Ah. But you never did thank me for solving the mystery of your missing underwear.¡±

    ¡°They just got misplaced in the laundry!¡±

    ¡°So? I still found them.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a big difference between solving a murder and finding a pair of lost boxers ¨C Claude. And for that matter, you originally claimed that a goblin had broken into my bedroom and stolen them when I wasn¡¯t looking,¡± Maxwell didn¡¯t know why he was bothering. They¡¯d had this argument hundreds of times over the years they had been with each other. The time before Claude developed his detective obsession was now shorter than after.

    ¡°That was just my running theory at the time. Obviously, I revaluated when more evidence came to light.¡±

    Before the argument could go any further, the teacher cleared his throat and demanded the attention of the class once again. Maxwell and Claude would be going at it all day. Samantha sighed and copied down some of the diagrams from the board, but her eyes kept focusing on the finely tucked braid that ran down the back of Maria¡¯s head. She just couldn¡¯t get over how she had been treated upon their first meeting, even if it was how Maria acted around most of the people in the academy.

    Samantha had tried to be discreet in the ways that she watched Maria from afar and she had become familiar with her routine. She spent a lot of time studying in the library and common rooms. She never allowed herself any downtime, retiring to her room at the earliest possible hour and awakening before everyone else. She had no real friends to speak of, and only Felipe had the courage to stop by and make small talk while he was doing his rounds.

    Samantha was so deeply entrenched in her thoughts that she only snapped back out of her trance when Claudius reached out and grabbed her shoulder, ¡°Period is over, Sam.¡± She stood up from her seat with an embarrassed grin and followed them down to the door. Maria was already standing by the window in the corridor and was being hounded by an unfamiliar boy from the fourth year.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± she asked of Max.

    ¡°That¡¯s Cromwell ¨C he¡¯s a ranking member in the academy¡¯s shooting club.¡±

    Cromwell was making a big pitch to Maria about something, though Sam quickly identified that the topic at hand was that of shooting, just as Max had implied. His hands moved in grand, sweeping motions in a lost attempt to sway him to his side of things. ¡°You¡¯ve already won nearly every competition that there is to win. I was shocked to hear that you didn¡¯t want to join the society.¡±

    Maria was curt in response, ¡°I am not old enough to join.¡±

    ¡°The age requirement is just a formality. I promise that if we speak to the headmaster and tell him about your achievements, he¡¯ll see the value in having you represent our academy.¡±

    Maria was not moved.

    ¡°Apologies, but I have no interest in joining the shooting club. I see it as entirely separate from my enjoyment of the sport.¡±

    Cromwell¡¯s mouth opened and closed like that of a fish as Maria turned on her heel and marched away, braids bobbing up and down as she went. His face ran through a complex spectrum of emotions before finally settling on frustration. ¡°I knew she was unsociable, but that was something different.¡±

    His clubmate patted him on the back in consolation, ¡°You¡¯re not the first to get shot down by Walston-Carter. She never speaks with anyone unless they address her first.¡± The two boys left by heading in the opposite direction. Their plan had been a spectacular failure, and Cromwell had spent a week figuring out how to approach her! Claude, Max and Sam watched with some bemusement as she effortlessly deflected two boys who were three years her senior.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t even flinch,¡± Max chuckled.

    ¡°She¡¯s a stone-cold killer,¡± Claudius added.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far.¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t so sure. Maria was different to everyone else, anointed with maturity and nerves of steel. She could have been the most popular girl on campus if she merely chose to take advantage of those gifts, and she could curry genuine friends instead of hopeless lackeys like some of the ones who followed her like lost birds. The matter was quickly forgotten as Claudius and Maxwell reignited their previous debate on what the grand mystery really was. Samantha¡¯s mind was elsewhere. She followed them to a seating area so they could wait for the next period to start. Her fascination had not been dulled yet. The only thing left for her to do was try to get closer to her.

    For that, she would need to study hard and earn a place as one of Felipe¡¯s personal prot¨¦g¨¦s.

 Chapter 16

    Cromwell¡¯s invitation got me thinking. What if the shooting club had weapons on hand for practice and competition? It could have served as a good hiding place for the rifle that my would-be killer had used. Unfortunately, my theory was quickly proven incorrect after some cursory investigation. Firearms were completely banned from the campus lest they be held in the hands of law enforcement or a private guard. The shooting club¡¯s room served as a meeting place before anything else. The guns were dispensed on-site by the organisations running the contests. I had never participated in an academy competition before ¨C so I was unaware of that detail. I also had no reason to suspect that any of the club¡¯s members were responsible. Cromwell was the first one from their number to speak with me.

    With no evidence to go on and no obvious suspects, I decided that it was time to take more drastic actions. If I couldn¡¯t find the culprit normally, I merely had to make them act by drawing them out into the open. There were several remote areas on the campus which would make the perfect place to assassinate someone and get away with it. The grounds were expansive and labyrinthian. There were the buildings themselves, some of which were not utilised, and the grounds and gardens that surrounded them. There weren¡¯t enough people in the school to cover every single angle. The teachers had advised us to stay in populated areas for our own safety. I was about to do the exact opposite. It was the right time too. I felt like somebody was watching me as I moved around the campus, a burning gaze that bore down on me like a heavy weight. I had a lot of admirers, but this was a different feeling entirely.

    I had constructed a makeshift holster using napkins and old clothes. It was terrible and insecure as all hell, but it would be enough to carry my gun with me for this occasion. I unbuttoned the side of my skirt and exposed my upper thigh, wrapping it around and slipping the gun between my skin and the fabric.

    It was a serious piece of shit.

    But that¡¯s life. Sometimes a piece of shit made of leftovers is just what you need. Resourcefulness and adaptability were two things that I was very good at; that was how I had managed to fit in so well with this new world. I assessed, analysed and planned. Those plans could only be as good as the assumptions that led to their formation. I was taking a serious risk by doing this. I was resolved to follow through with it. It was the quiet hours between our last lesson period and dinner, which meant that foot traffic was going to be even lower than usual. I took a deep breath and headed out into the corridor. Not a soul was around just yet. I¡¯d need to bait my hook before leading them into my trap. I took the scenic route throughout the school grounds, catching the attention of as many people as possible while I did so. It was easily done when I was the most popular girl in the academy. I could sneeze and it would be on the front page of the school paper the next day.

    Soon enough I felt that creeping paranoia again. My instincts were alight with activity as I headed out into the back garden and moved between the tall hedges. I had a specific destination in mind. It would obscure my exact location while being isolated enough to lure any enterprising assassin into overextending. The greenhouse. It was a large, iron and glass construction that was used for botany lessons. It was bigger than my old house back on Earth. While the walls were glass, a large variety of exotic plants blocked a clear view through to the other side. I skirted the left edge and headed around the backside. They were still following me. I could hear their footsteps behind me.

    I smirked as I wound the line tighter and tighter. This was it, the moment when the truth finally came out. Were they going to try and kill me again? Or were they going to err on the better side of caution and back away before trying? Either way ¨C I was going to emerge the victor. There wasn¡¯t a single person in this or any other universe who could compare to my fighting prowess when it came to using a gun. Once I was certain that my pursuer was close enough, I swivelled around with my hand prepared to draw my weapon. I had to stop myself as the person in question finally became apparent.

    It was Professor Prier.

    Instead of holding a gun, he was holding a still-dirty trowel in his left hand. He gave me a concerned look as he approached me around the corner, ¡°Miss Walston-Carter, I don¡¯t mean to interfere with your walk ¨C but I do recall that you were asked to keep to the populated areas of our campus.¡±

    That was a disappointment. He wasn¡¯t the person I was looking for.

    I bowed to him, ¡°Apologies, Mister Prier.¡±

    He wiped his brow and chuckled, ¡°Please don¡¯t try to make me nervous! My heart almost stopped when I saw you walking past the greenhouse. We¡¯re not trying to threaten you. The principal is just very much concerned for your safety.¡±

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    ¡°I was taking a stroll, and I was so deep in thought that I forgot all about it.¡±

    He did not seem convinced by my excuse, but he had no reason to question me any further on the matter. Prier escorted me back to the front side of the greenhouse and shooed me away with his tool, ¡°Make sure you remember to stay safe! It¡¯s for your own sake.¡±

    ¡°I will, sir.¡±

    Was I mistaken? I swore that I could feel someone watching me as I moved. I pondered the problem while walking back to the rear entrance. It was rare for my instincts to lead me astray like this. I¡¯d need to try it again later, this time while Prier wasn¡¯t keeping a watchful eye on the greenhouse. I couldn¡¯t expect to see results right away. Persistence would lead me to the right answer. I needed to keep trying and doing everything I could. Given that my life was on the line, it only made sense. Prier¡¯s presence was not evidence of his killing intent. It was nothing more than a bit of bad luck. I turned my eyes upwards and noticed someone else watching me.

    Samantha was waiting on the steps. I intended to ignore her, but she stood and called out to me as I tried to pass.

    ¡°Uh. I was hoping that we could talk about something!¡±

    I paused, ¡°I highly doubt that we have anything worth discussing.¡±

    Samantha was trying not to get flustered by the brisk reaction. She took a deep breath and approached me, ¡°I just wanted to ask why you stay away from everyone but Talia. I still remember what you said to me when we first met.¡±

    ¡°What I mean is that there¡¯s no worth to us being friends, none at all. It¡¯s something that would benefit neither of us. It¡¯s just as much for your sake as it is my own.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing bad about having friends. Is there a reason you¡¯re trying to distance yourself this much?¡± she asked. Samantha was going to be stubborn this time. She wasn¡¯t leaving me alone until she had some kind of answer from the horse¡¯s mouth. I couldn¡¯t tell her that I was paranoid about people close to me being killed, and Talia had already wormed her way into my social circle without me being able to do anything about it. I was in damage mitigation mode, trying to prevent it from becoming precedent before it was too late.

    ¡°Do I need a reason to prefer solitude?¡± I offered vaguely, ¡°I enjoy the company of myself more than anything. It helps to know that most of the people who approach me only do so to try and enhance their reputation and image.¡±

    Samantha pouted, ¡°I¡¯m not trying to get popular by speaking with you!¡±

    ¡°You already have trustworthy friends at your side. There is no need to invite me ¨C I¡¯m quite satisfied as things are.¡±

    I was confident that my refusal would result in Samantha giving up, but that was yet another miscalculation. Rather than being outraged or despondent, she only grew more determined to prove me wrong. I had forgotten something important. Samantha was the protagonist and one of her key personality traits was trying to see the best in other people no matter what. She was an earnest and friendly farm girl who was facing down a cold and uncaring societal class system. She¡¯d grow beyond it and form a bond with one of the boys at the academy, potentially even the Ice Prince that everyone was so afraid of.

    ¡°I can¡¯t accept an answer like that, Maria. I can see it in your eyes when you say it ¨C you don¡¯t believe that at all.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°And who are you to understand how I feel?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no such thing as a person who prefers being alone. I¡¯ve seen the way you act when Talia or Felipe speak with you. You might not realise it yourself, but you want them to reach out to you and be your friend.¡±

    My tightly clamped lips wavered as I struggled to maintain my cold character in front of her. Her face lit up as she believed that I was about to cry or break into an uncontrollable smile that betrayed my true feelings. It was neither of those things. Ever since I had been reincarnated into this body it was almost impossible for me to constrain the extremely irritating laugh that defined Maria¡¯s character. It was too much. I could feel the pressure building and threatening to bubble over like a burst dam!

    ¡°Hehe... ha. Ohohohoho! Ohohohoho!¡±

    Samantha stepped back as the explosive outburst of laughter rang through the gardens. It kept going and going and going to the point where I could feel myself running out of breath. When the contractions ended, I slapped a hand over my mouth and glared at her as hard as I could. Samantha was unsure as to the reasoning behind my uproarious mirth. I cleared my throat and returned to normal in due course.

    ¡°A touching sentiment, Samantha, but I¡¯m afraid that you underestimate the diversity of human thought. There are many millions of people in this world. For every firm belief you may hold, there is an exception that exists beyond your field of view.¡±

    ¡°But still!¡±

    I wagged my finger at her, ¡°Please, Samantha. Respect my wishes.¡±

    Samantha was stumped, but she needed to have the last word.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t believe you. I¡¯m going to do everything in my power to make you admit that I¡¯m right and that you do care about the people around you. I¡¯m going to be your friend by the end of this term.¡±

    I ascended the next step, ¡°And what a grave thing that would be...¡±

    I left Samantha with that thought in mind. My reasoning could not be understood from her perspective. This was the one good deed that a person such as I could do for others. To refrain from violence, and to spare them the indignity of becoming pawns in my punishment. If only she were so willing to believe in my story as she was the existence of a heart long since withered. Samantha was too kind to be dragged into my orbit. Talia and Felipe were already playing with fire by associating with me. I absolutely wanted to avoid doing so with another person. I crossed my fingers and hoped that fate would not conspire to keep me from tracking down the assassin. Becoming the victim of dramatic irony would not make for an exciting tale.

    If not for learning from my past mistakes, why had I been reincarnated here?

 Chapter 17

    One of the direct consequences of my behaviour was that things had taken a radically different path from what I remembered from the game. Without me to serve as Samantha¡¯s foil, the adversity she faced was generalised and arranged by a small group of people who did not respect me enough to take my lead in leaving her alone. In comparison to some of the things that Maria did and said in the game ¨C it was pedestrian. It was nothing that she couldn¡¯t handle herself. I wondered if it would change the way that Samantha developed as the ¡®story¡¯ unfolded. Separating myself from that path did give me plenty of space to worry about finding my would-be killer.

    Felipe stuck very strictly to the orders that the teachers had given us, never being seen without Beatrice and another friend at his side. I had made several other attempts to lure out the shooter by wandering different parts of the campus, and all of them were just as unsuccessful as the first. Completely unwilling to accept the possibility that I was being paranoid, I concluded that my methodology was faulty. Samantha was keeping a close eye on me, looking for the perfect chance to leap into the fray and befriend me. Her presence only aided the uncertainty I felt.

    I did have to question the headmaster¡¯s plan. Surely someone who was willing to kill would have no issue in doing so at the expense of bystanders. Most murderers didn¡¯t have a set of rules that they liked to follow. The only thing that it would create was more witnesses or more victims; and the careful planning of their first attempt on my life meant that they weren¡¯t going to let themselves be seen so easily. They had scouted out my schedule and specifically timed their shot to be hidden by the noise of the clocktower. They were a professional, even if they failed to recover the shell casing from the floor.

    That shell casing was my main lead. I needed to find more information about what types of weapons could fire this calibre and make of bullet. As I expected the libraries within the academy did not boast an index of firearms that I could compare it against. With that and the desire for a proper holster for my pilfered pistol, I decided it was time to make my first excursion into the nearby city of Bleufarl. It was the capital of Walser and the seat of government, though the economic core of the nation was really located further south of where we were situated. Convincing the faculty to let me off-campus so I could go visit was going to be a hard ask. I arrived at the staff lounge and asked the teacher at the door very nicely to have a private chat with one of the managing members.

    The opponent I had landed in this case was a stern looking man named Robert Engelbart. He had big, bushy white eyebrows and a face like thunder. His voice sounded like he¡¯d gargled a bag of gravel every day for twenty years. The room was mostly empty aside from us. The teachers were all busy preparing for the following day¡¯s lessons. We stared each other down for a moment before he started to address me. ¡°This is rare. I never expected to have you ask for a meeting with one of the staff.¡±

    ¡°And why would that be, sir?¡±

    He stroked his bushy moustache and grumbled, ¡°You seem rather independent already. Every teacher has nothing but praise for your work ethic, behaviour and focus. Whatever could be troubling you?¡±

    I bowed my head respectfully, ¡°I would like to ask for permission to leave the campus this coming weekend so that I can visit the city. There is some business I must attend to.¡±

    His face fell even further (if that was even possible) as he considered my request. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, ¡°I see. That is a rather problematic proposal. I can see why you came to speak with us before deciding. I take it that you understand the headmaster wants you to remain on-site? We could be in serious trouble if one of our students was killed.¡±

    I made my case firmly, ¡°While I understand your concerns, is it not strange to essentially punish us by prohibiting us from leaving as the other students do? I would like to visit the city, and my Father will surely send an attendant to make sure that I do not get into any trouble.¡±

    That made him chuckle huskily, ¡°I highly doubt that a lady like yourself would get into trouble. No, rather - the trouble is seeking you.¡±

    ¡°The culprit only targeted us with the knowledge that nobody else was around to witness it. Surely a well-populated area like the city will deter them from taking a similar action against me.¡±

    I had purposefully avoided making the argument that people could also serve as excellent camouflage. I¡¯d completed my share of hits simply by allowing the natural confusion and panic to spread and interfere with attempts to locate me. Engelbart was not an experienced assassin like I was, so he didn¡¯t even consider it.

    He exhaled through his nose and hushed his voice; ¡°To be truthful, we lack the full authority to confine you to the campus. While we act as your guardians, you also attend this academy with the combined consent of yourselves and your families.¡±

    I tried to walk things back a little before he felt like I was pushing things, ¡°I don¡¯t mean to imply some kind of nefarious blackmail scheme. If you conclude that it is a risk I am not permitted to take, I will follow your recommendation and remain here.¡±

    Engelbart was already wavering in my favour though. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a small piece of paper, on which he jotted down his signature using a pencil. It was dated for the first day of the weekend before it would then expire. ¡°Here. If you show this to the gatekeeper, you¡¯ll be allowed through. But I needn¡¯t remind you of the curfew that we still expect you to follow even when outside of the school grounds. We¡¯ll also be checking to ensure that an appropriate escort is going with you.¡±

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    ¡°That is reasonable. Thank you very much, sir.¡±

    The problem with adults was that they didn¡¯t find me intimidating like the other students did. It was easy to look down on me as a pretty little noble lady when they were twice my height and well-weathered from a lifetime of dealing with bratty kids. Still, I had successfully gotten what I wanted out of the discussion. Tacit permission to go into the city so I could investigate my lead further. I took my leave and headed back into the corridor with a spring in my step. That was a lot easier than I had anticipated. Some of the teachers were extremely strict when it came to the rules, but keeping us on campus was not an official action. There was only so much they could do before they upset our parents and lost that sweet, sweet tuition money. I pocketed the permission slip and started walking to my dorm room.

    The first phase of my plan was complete, the second was to have a letter delivered to our estate so that Father could dispatch the attendant. Commercial road vehicles were still a decade or so away, so we¡¯d be travelling to the city using a good old-fashioned horse and carriage. I didn¡¯t know how to steer one of those, so the attendant was a convenient way to kill two birds with one stone. Given that the headmaster had seen fit to conceal the recent happenings from him a simple excuse about buying him a lovely gift would be enough to buy my way off campus.

    That was the same excuse I was going to use to enter one of the hunting shops and find what I was seeking. A catalogue that could show me what gun the bullet was fired from, a holster, and some other knick-knacks that would make my Father very happy. It didn¡¯t need to be anything special. He loved his daughter too much to complain. I had to stop myself from buying him a leather holster too lest I remind him of the pistol that I had stolen.

    Guns were readily available if you knew where to look ¨C but there were still basic rules in place to prevent people my age from walking in and purchasing one. Buying everything else that was associated with them came down to the shopkeeper¡¯s discretion. Most would not turn down good money for no reason. While I was walking I spotted several of the ¡®main cast¡¯ spending some time catching up in the library. Samantha waved at me but I refused to humour her. I kept on walking without saying a word. Between this day and the trip, there was still another magic lesson with Miss Jennings to worry about. I had a feeling that we wouldn¡¯t be out in the yard until questions of security were resolved.

    I locked the door behind me and relaxed a little.

    ¡°Quill, quill, quill,¡± I murmured to myself. I had been writing a lot of notes recently ¨C so there was a gigantic mess starting to accumulate on my desk. I needed to take some time and clean it up before it grew even more chaotic. I eventually found it, having fallen between two piles of documents that I had been using to copy down some of the more important facts I had learned in and outside of class. I started my letter with some pleasantries. Father would like to hear from me for more than asking for a simple favour.

    I ran through some of the things that had happened since I arrived, how I was doing in class, and some more information about my magical education that I had mentioned briefly once before. He was very proud to hear that I was assessed as a grade five mage. Magic was something that he believed would come back around to relevance once everyone ¡®grew tired of their machines.¡¯ I didn¡¯t have the heart to break the bad news that it was highly unlikely.

    Once the mundane retelling of my school life was done with, I inquired if it was at all possible to have an attendant and carriage dispatched to the academy on the weekend. There was little doubt in my mind that he would agree to it without asking questions. It would take a few days for the letter to make its way through to the house. I¡¯d find out about his reply when it came time to leave the campus. If not, I¡¯d be left standing there like a fool for a carriage that would never arrive.

    I could always try again if I failed but failure was not something I experienced often.

    <hr>

    ¡°Max, I totally just saw Maria walking out of the teacher¡¯s lounge.¡±

    Samantha and Maxwell had remained behind to study even as their classmates retired for the evening. They were making sound progress, but Claudius has been notably absent for the majority of the day. It soon became apparent that he had spent it screwing around and trying to dig up clues to support his pet theory about Maria being some kind of villainous mastermind.

    ¡°You know, there are a hundred perfectly innocent reasons to speak with one of the teachers,¡± Max contended, ¡°You¡¯re just making up stories again.¡±

    Claudius sat down beside his oldest friend and shook his head gravely, ¡°If these were normal circumstances, perhaps. But the teachers have been hiding something from us for nearly a week now. I¡¯m certain that it has to do with Maria.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t seem any different to usual,¡± Samantha replied.

    Claudius gave her a knowing smirk, ¡°Ah. But that¡¯s the most telling clue of all. The fact that she feels so at ease despite the clear anxiety of the teachers and guardians around her. Does it not make you think that she¡¯s the one holding all of the cards? She¡¯s pulling their strings, and they¡¯re all dancing along to her tune.¡±

    ¡°And what do you think she¡¯s doing with such immense power?¡± Max added.

    ¡°If she¡¯s manipulating the teachers ¨C it must be something to do with our grades. I was always suspicious about the way that she scores near perfectly in every mock exam and piece of self-study we do. Having dirt on the staff members would serve to secure her top spot.¡±

    Max was not going to entertain such a wild claim.

    ¡°And when she answers all of the questions correctly in the lectures?¡±

    Sam joined in, ¡°And I¡¯ve seen her intelligence first-hand. I have no reason to believe that she needs to rely on such a cheap trick.¡±

    Claudius huffed, ¡°I¡¯m not saying that it¡¯s guaranteed to be the case! I¡¯m working through some theories right now. You¡¯ll come up with one-hundred incorrect answers before finding the right one.¡±

    ¡°More like a million,¡± Max said, ¡°You¡¯ve already decided that she¡¯s guilty of something and are just working back to justifying it.¡±

    Samantha returned to her book, ¡°Yeah ¨C the only thing she¡¯s guilty of is being mean.¡±

    Claudius knew it was a lost cause. Neither of his friends understood criminal psychology like he did. Neither of them had seen or heard the tales from people around the academy about what was unfolding. Something was up and he was going to be the one to crack the case wide open. He could imagine all of the accolades and applause he¡¯d receive for protecting the innocent from Maria¡¯s fiendish ways. Maxwell had implored him to focus more on his studies before he fell behind Roderro as the class clown. Claude had other ideas. Why worry about studying when the lives of other people were on the line?

    But Max was correct about one thing. He needed a lot more evidence first before closing this case.

 Chapter 18

    Our next magic lesson focused entirely on theory. The teachers had decided that letting me and Felipe be outside at the same time in an exposed area was a bad idea. It was an entirely reasonable judgement to make. The only person who had reasons to suspect that something was amiss was Claudius ¨C though him finding something suspicious was like the sun rising in the morning. The staff didn¡¯t know where or when the attacker would strike next.

    The problem was what they were doing to try and find the culprit. It was evident that they had been going above and beyond to search the building for where the gun might have been hidden after the shooting, but the campus was so large that it was a hopeless endeavour. They could have easily dug a hole in one of the gardens and buried it for later. People imagine themselves as being more perceptive than they really are. Who would wander behind a treeline and actually investigate a patch of disturbed soil?

    There were just too many places to hide it. I was also happily concealing a weapon inside my dorm room. It was almost worrying how easy it was to smuggle things in and out of the campus. I looked at the suitcase in the bottom of my wardrobe with a terse frown. I had decided to bring the gun with me just in case something happened while we were out and about. It was strange to go back to wearing my casual clothes after being in uniform for weeks. The students were allowed to wear their own clothes during the weekend, but I rarely left my room on those days regardless.

    With money and a firearm hidden on my person ¨C I walked down the long hallways and headed towards the first of the two gates that controlled access to the academy. It was a small exterior booth occupied by a private guard and a wood-fired furnace to keep them warm in the winter. They also had a large logbook which they used to keep track of who was coming and going during the day. If the culprit had decided to leave and dispense with his weapon, one of the guards would have noted it down for later and asked to inspect the inside of whatever they were carrying. That was why I believed the gun was still hidden on the property, or at least brought through a subtler route. My first thought would have been to throw it over the fence both in and out. That would stop me from leaving a paper trail to follow.

    The guard sat up straight in his chair as I became the first person to visit who wasn¡¯t delivering food for the kitchen. I presented the signed slip of paper without a word. He scrutinized the signature and date, before stamping it with a small, red ink seal to show that it had been used. I immediately caught that he had neglected to cover the signature with ink. That meant I could keep it and reuse it later.

    ¡°Okay ¨C Lady Maria, you¡¯re all clear to head out. Please remember to be back on the campus by half-six this evening.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    I walked through the pedestrian entrance and was greeted by the sight of the family¡¯s blackwood carriage. A pair of horses brayed and pulled on their restraints as the driver tried to keep them calm. Rather than sending him alone, Father had seen fit to also dispatch a servant I had become very familiar with. His name was Franklin, and he tended to take on important responsibilities when the other heads of staff were occupied. He bowed and crossed his hands in his lap.

    ¡°Good morning, Lady Maria.¡±

    ¡°Good morning, Franklin. I see that Father elected to dispatch the both of you.¡±

    He nodded, ¡°Aye. It¡¯s no bother to us. The Master was worried about you heading into the city without two pairs of eyes.¡±

    I had only asked for one. My humble side had intended to make as little noise about my visit as possible, but clearly, my Father thought differently. It was more convenient to have the driver stay with the carriage. They could stand by in a parking area and make sure that nobody tried anything funny while we went about our business. A horse was still valuable enough to be worth stealing. I¡¯d also seen many a carriage with one or two wheels missing.

    ¡°I suppose it will not hurt to have you for company. Shall we be away?¡±

    Franklin smiled and opened the small door. I clambered up into the cabin as it locked shut behind me. The interior was nice and comfortable, with cushioned seats and glass windows to keep the wind out. I cracked my shoulders and prepared for the twenty-minute journey down to the city. Franklin decided to sit up front with the driver. I would have offered him a seat inside, but he would have turned me down out of concern of cramping the good lady¡¯s space. It was bizarre. I had never once seen the carriage filled to capacity. You could squeeze eight people into the seats if you really wanted to.

    I kicked back and let my mind wander.

    Eventually, the bumpy streets started to roll the carriage back and forth with me huddled up inside. I peered through the window and out into the city. It was a bustling hive of people going about their lives; it was amazing to consider that the nation had been on the verge of total collapse a few years before I was born. The will to march on as things had always been was strong. Nobody wanted to see their regular lives suffer from such upheaval. It was a large, modern city where hundreds of thousands of people had been forced into a relatively small space. Rural cottages had been swallowed whole by the rapid urban development, creating a patchwork of new and old.

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    There was only one side that would win and overtake the other in the end. Higher-density buildings were always being constructed to house more people. Heavy black smoke billowed in the distance where the industrial areas dominated the riverside ¨C using it for transport and as a water supply. Occasionally a flight of fancy would cut through the grim realness. A shop that sold items for mages, or an unusual-looking creature standing bedraggled by the side of the road.

    The driver weaved through the foot traffic and found a good place to stop. Franklin¡¯s movement up front disturbed the balance of the carriage, and a moment later the door was opened for me. He took my hand and helped me climb down the steps. Several other carriages had been pulled into the same yard. The smell of horseshit was overpowering, and this time it wasn¡¯t the fault of me putting on airs. ¡°Good lord. They really ought to tidy this place up a little!¡± the driver griped. He knew better than us what a model mooring area looked like. I took his word for it. Franklin handed him some money for the parking fee and followed me out onto the street.

    ¡°What are you looking for, Ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to purchase some personal items for my stay at the school, and a gift or two for Father.¡±

    ¡°I see. I do believe that the shopping district was in that direction,¡± he said ¨C pointing eastwards. I had already observed as much myself. I had a very good memory when it came to locations. He followed my lead as we struggled to navigate our way through the huge crowds that occupied either side of the road. There were too many horse-drawn carts passing by for them to use the centre as well. Franklin stuck close to me, with a vigilant glare being directed towards people he suspected of being pickpockets. Again, it was a fruitless exercise. I was aware enough to keep my own pockets firmly unpicked. They¡¯d lose a few fingers for even trying.

    As we approached some of the civilian shops in the middle of the city, the crowds became more affluent in terms of dress. Brightly coloured dresses had become something of a trend as dyes became more affordable and widely available. A swelling middle class had opened new markets and opportunities for those willing to take the risk. I wasn¡¯t in the city to shop for dresses ¨C just some extra underwear. I had packed too few to last and cleaning them by hand twice a week was driving me crazy. For all of the luxuries that we were given as students, we still had to do our own laundry.

    Before we could find a shop to do just that, we stumbled upon one of my other targets. A hunting goods store. Not only did they sell a select few guns, but also everything that you needed to look the part while posing with them outside of your multi-million-Walmark mansion in the countryside. A poser¡¯s paradise, if you will. Or you could even cut out the middleman and buy an already stuffed animal corpse to mount above the fireplace. The front window was filled with ducks, beavers and other ¡®pests¡¯ that had been mounted on wooden plaques.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to buy Father a gift from this shop.¡±

    Franklin observed the front fa?ade, ¡°Hm. As long as the shopkeeper is okay with a young lady being inside.¡±

    He walked up and opened the door, allowing me to enter. The smell of leather and gunpowder hit me like a brick wall. Even as a gun nut, the smell wasn¡¯t a good one. It was a confined space and every last inch of it was being used to display various items. Clothes, animals, accessories, and most importantly ¨C books and registries. Printing presses had resulted in an explosion of books covering just about every topic you could think of. A lot of stores liked to print catalogues that explored a list of products that were available. It was exactly what I was looking for. I could use it to find guns that used the calibre of the bullet I had retrieved from the clock tower. The shopkeeper spared a glance at me before returning to his business. It didn¡¯t seem like there¡¯d be an issue.

    Franklin was going to ask more questions if he saw me screwing around. I peered around the edge of the aisle and saw him standing guard by the front door instead of following me. Perfect. I headed to the reference area and opened one of the books that covered the small selection of rifles that the store offered. That was where the convenience ended. None of the guns were organized into their respective calibres, meaning I had to scan over every single page to try and find what I was looking for. I came away with three different candidates that all used the cartridge I had found.

    One of them was a lever action rifle produced by Burs called the five-six. There were also two others produced by the Blackwell Hunting Company. Both were chamber loaded and could only carry one round before needing to be reloaded. They were very much intended to be used for hunting wild animals and not in a military context. The more advanced mechanism in magazine-loaded guns made them more expensive. Most would be just fine with a lever action rifle for clearing their farms of pests or protecting their property. The difference between the guns was not significant in terms of size ¨C but at least I knew what I was looking for now. I made extra sure that there were no other guns that used those bullets by checking the other books until I exhausted my options.

    With that done, I hurried to complete my other tasks before Franklin grew suspicious. The leather section contained everything that I was looking for. A selection of holsters for firearms small and large. I had already memorized the size of my own pilfered gun, and my Father would find something to do with whatever I bought him. I grabbed the nicest-looking thing I could spot and brought them to the register. The towering man who stood behind it had to lean forward over the edge to see me standing there.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to purchase these as a gift.¡±

    I stood on my toes and placed them down for him to process. He chuckled and started to hammer numbers into his register, each press of the buttons releasing a loud click; ¡°You¡¯ve got a good eye, little miss. I¡¯d easily recommend both of these to anyone looking for something nice. That¡¯ll be three-ninety.¡±

    I handed over my Walmarks and took the holsters into my arms. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Only one of them was intended to be a gift. I could drum up an excuse to Franklin about why I was keeping one of them for myself. He smiled and led me back onto the road. He already had a good idea of where we needed to head, ¡°Let us go and purchase some new clothes.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s.¡±

    The easiest part of the trip was over. Now to find some good underwear.

 Chapter 19

    It was a hard fact that I had to get used to the clothing I was expected to wear. I couldn¡¯t just start dressing in masculine stuff and expect everyone to accept it. Maria already boasted a large and diverse wardrobe of different items ¨C dresses, nightgowns, blouses, skirts and dress shirts. I had some amount of leeway in choosing what I wanted to use, but immersing myself deep into the ¡®character¡¯ of Maria was essential to fitting in. In the grand scheme of things, I had performed much more humiliating acts to complete a job than wearing a dress. I just kept in mind that I had become Maria and that nobody would find it odd for me to wear my own clothes. With that said, there were many elements of current-day fashion that I could not abide by. Corsets were used by many women to try and give themselves a curvier figure. I much preferred being able to breathe properly.

    The full weight of the gap between my old self and new persona became apparent when I entered the underwear section of one of the many high-class boutiques that surrounded the main avenue. A rainbow of pastel colours descended upon me from all sides, complete with ribbons and floral patterns carefully weaved into every silk panel. This was not my natural territory. Franklin recused himself from coming with, averting his eyes and claiming that ¡°the women¡¯s segment is no place for a man like me.¡±

    I felt that very strongly.

    But I was Maria Walston-Carter. What kind of girl my age didn¡¯t engage in things like this? I had already pushed my luck with becoming an experienced sports shooter ¨C this was just for the sake of balancing things out. I found myself going slowly for the sake of giving off the impression that I was taking my time and closely inspecting each option. To me, every bundle of underwear and bras were the same, just in differing colours and materials. I¡¯d already made my selection of something sensible and dark before I even entered the building. Sensible was in short supply, but it was enough to keep me in clean underwear for a full week without having to clean them. I paid for a bundle of underwear and returned to Franklin.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be so red in the face. Do you not need undergarments yourself?¡±

    He sputtered, ¡°There¡¯s a lot of differences between men''s and women¡¯s... you know. It¡¯s rude to stare.¡±

    I was just messing with him.

    I had successfully completed all of my chores in record time. We exited the store and travelled back down the main avenue. There was an almighty ruckus that had broken out along the way. I had noticed a small wooden soapbox that someone had set up by the side of the plaza, and it was now occupied by a man who sought to destroy his own vocal cords by shouting at the top of his lungs. There was no way to ignore what he was saying. He even had a wooden sign painted with a catchy slogan to really sell the street-corner protestor look. A small crowd of irritated onlookers had gathered to try and shout him down.

    ¡°The Compromise is nothing more than a tool for parliamentarians to control the proper working order of our nation! Walser thrived for hundreds of years under the guiding hand of our royal family ¨C we have no need of these ¡®lawmakers,¡¯ ones who don¡¯t have the divine right to lead! Have we so readily forgotten that the Van Walser family protected us from evil time and time again? We are walking to our own destruction!¡±

    Franklin was not amused, ¡°Is this what they¡¯ve been making such a fuss about lately? How foolish.¡±

    ¡°Someone is going to attack him if he is not careful,¡± I whispered. Franklin grimaced and ushered us away before such a thing occurred. The wounds of the internal conflict were still fresh to some. Those who sought to modernize the nation through democratic revolution, and those who believed that the old ways would continue to serve it well. From a monarchist¡¯s perspective, the compromise was not much of a compromise at all. It served exclusively to intrude on the traditional powers of the royal family and prevent them from interfering with parliament.

    There were a lot of people like that lone protestor. They shouted into the void in the vague hope that their perspective could sway the masses. It had been done a thousand times before with hundreds of other self-styled revolutionary leaders. A soapbox and slogan weren¡¯t enough in this era of entrenched power structures. It would take time for people to come around to a new form of government; but they were not eager to burn everything down to go back. The government would have to anger them directly through its policy-making first.

    ¡°They¡¯re nothing more than a nuisance. Don¡¯t they have anything better to do?¡± Franklin despaired.

    ¡°There¡¯s no harm in speaking your mind, at least until someone takes umbrage with it.¡±

    Franklin was sceptical, ¡°What good does the voice of a single man do? The Van Walser family is hardly going to follow his recommendations and assert their power again.¡± He paused as he realised that he was speaking about politics and current events with someone less than half his age. It would be best for me to not push the matter any further lest I arouse undue suspicion.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say I¡¯m familiar with the matter at hand.¡±

    I was very familiar with the matter at hand. It was one of the things that I had done deep amounts of research into using Father¡¯s newspapers. Years after it happened it was still the topic on everyone¡¯s minds, something that had divided Walserian society clean down the middle and brought about a significant level of turmoil. The author was trying to lay the groundwork for sequels and spinoffs to come but I never played any of them. It could have been a piece of unused set dressing for all I knew. It took on new significance now that I was living in a world that had brought things into reality. It was realistic that those events would come to affect me in time.

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    ¡°Ah. I think I¡¯d be happier without knowing, Ma¡¯am, but what¡¯s done is done. We all must live in the same times together for better or worse. I would be overjoyed to state with confidence that you need not worry about such things.¡±

    Remaining silent was my only good choice, so I did just that. The rest of the walk was mostly uneventful until we neared the lot where the carriage had been parked. I could instantly tell that one of the women walking in the opposite direction was looking at us. Combined with their huddle posture and restless hands, I identified her as a pickpocket. My instincts were proven correct as she intentionally stepped into my path and tried to ¡®accidentally¡¯ bump into me. I stopped dead in place and didn¡¯t allow her to execute the sleight of hand required to pilfer my purse. Her eyes widened in blind panic as her hand met empty air.

    I was not expecting her to try it again after already missing the first time. Her arm lashed out like a coiled viper and tried to sneak into my pocket, but I deflected the movement and slipped my leg between hers, hooking the back of my foot around hers and pushing. She wailed and tumbled back at the simple self-defence technique. It wouldn¡¯t have worked on someone with any training at all. Franklin finally caught on to what was happening and leapt between us so as to protect me from harm.

    ¡°Take your hands off the young Mistress this instant!¡±

    She scrambled back to her feet and ran for it, slipping away between the crowd and out of sight before he could stop her. Franklin was furious that someone had tried to rob me on his watch, and even more angry about missing it the first time. I checked my other pockets and made sure that everything was still in place.

    ¡°I appear to be in one piece, Franklin.¡±

    ¡°We should speak with the police and have them-¡±

    I cut him off, ¡°The police aren¡¯t going to be able to find a single pickpocket based on a description from me. And they have bigger problems to solve.¡± Franklin grumbled but accepted my point. It would be a tremendous waste of time for everyone involved to report the incident to the police. It would get thrown onto an ever-growing pile of other non-violent acts and ignored for months. Violent crime was the big issue of the day, and the government had made a big deal about directing the police to crack down on it.

    ¡°The Master is going to be furious,¡± he despaired.

    ¡°What he doesn¡¯t know will not trouble him. I remain unharmed and un-robbed.¡±

    Franklin objected, ¡°I cannot keep my silence on matters referring to you, Ma¡¯am. That is the one essential responsibility that he gave me. I would be betraying both his, and your, trust in doing so.¡±

    I could have ordered him to do whatever I pleased ¨C but I saw no reason to. Franklin was going to report back to Father regardless of what angle I attacked him from. It was irritating because he¡¯d surely institute new rules to try and keep me out of trouble. As the only heir to our branch of the family, he wanted to protect our collective interest as much as possible.

    ¡°If that is what you wish to do. I will not object.¡± Franklin wasn¡¯t sure if he had offended me or not through his stubbornness, but his loyalty to the job and my Father was greater than his loyalty to me. We returned to the carriage and waited for the horses to finish recuperating before departing for the campus. It was an eventful trip, but not as eventful as the worst case may have been. The killer hadn¡¯t followed me.

    On the ride back, I tried to come up with a new approach.

    <hr>

    Claudius was starting to grow frustrated. His instincts were screaming to him that something was going on. The teachers had all started to act differently, and none of the others in his class had noticed that the promised practical magic lesson from last week had not occurred. Instead, they were hastily bundled back into the classroom for a lecture on some of the future topics that they would be covering. It had all started after their third session together in the yard. Claudius thought back on all of the books that he had read and took inspiration from them. When Thaddeus Jones became stuck during the mystery of the bloodied curtain ¨C he returned to the starting point of the story and found an essential clue.

    Claudius had noticed some of the teachers loitering in the training area. Despite that and the cancellation of the practical lesson, there had been no edict issued to the students about staying away from it. If he was going to find a foundational clue, this was going to be the place. Maria and Felipe had stayed behind to speak with each other at the time. What had they spoken about? And how did it relate to the behaviour of the staff afterwards? It demanded a thorough and detailed investigation of the site.

    Initially, it seemed as if nothing had changed at all. All of the dummies were in their usual places, as were the markings on the grass. But something did catch Claudius¡¯ eye. One of the trees had been damaged. The lighter colour that had been exposed on the inside made it extremely obvious from a distance. He leaned in and took a closer look. The bark had been ripped clean from the trunk. Several sharp pieces jutted outwards as if they had been struck by a severe impact. His imagination kicked into gear, transporting him back to the moment when Maria and Felipe confronted each other away from the eyes and ears of the others. Harsh words were shared, menacing glares cast on each side, and then came the first blow!

    Thwack!

    The shattering of aged bark rang out across the academy as Maria unleashed a devastating punch. Claudius shivered as he imagined the fear that must have run through Felipe¡¯s system, as he discovered that he was in clear waters with a bloodthirsty shark! There would be no objection from his side as Maria demonstrated her mastery over him. In reality ¨C it was the mark left after the bullet impacted the tree at a shallow angle. Claudius had never seen a bullet hole in person before, and the collateral damage to the relatively soft tree had obscured that fact from him.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that Maria would do something like that,¡± Claudius murmured gravely. Considerations like the strength required, the wounds that would have been left on her knuckles, and the leaps in logic he was making were mere background noise in the face of an overwhelming and rapidly developing conspiracy. Claudius had done his research into Felipe and Beatrice Booker, so he knew that they were betrothed to be married once they graduated. It was the clearest motivation that he could think of. Was Maria trying to exploit Felipe in some way? Was she trying to make him break his betrothal for her own sinister purposes?

    Whatever the reason, he wasn¡¯t going to stand for such a foul injustice! He swivelled on his heel and marched back towards the main building with a head full of frenzy and a chest filled with bravado. He was going to expose Maria for the villainess that she was in due course. All he needed now was the testimony to support his case.

 Chapter 20

    A physical exam.

    Human physiology expert and part-time teacher Winston Moss had careened through the lecture room doors and declared that we were becoming part of an experiment. He adjusted his glasses and smiled as he launched into an explanation as to the purpose of the forced exercise. I recognized this as one of the early ¡®special events¡¯ that contained unique dialogue depending on which romance track you had taken. It still surprised me that even this had been translated into ¡®real life.¡¯ Depending on what stats you trained Samantha in, there could be several different outcomes. Generally, those stats didn¡¯t have much of an impact on the game besides gating certain events from the player.

    ¡°As part of my tenure here at the royal academy, I¡¯ve been conducting research into the effects of exercise on younger people. It¡¯ll also provide us with a fine opportunity to talk about the human body.¡±

    There was a groan of protest from some of the non-active class members, but they could not go against the orders of one of our teachers without incurring penalties and detention periods. I was suffering under a completely different dilemma. I had been training my body for years at this point ¨C resulting in an enhanced level of stamina, strength and speed that would be sure to elicit many questions from those watching in the peanut gallery.

    ¡°I always say that a healthy body is a healthy mind. I won¡¯t ask you to do any more than what you are capable of, but I want some earnest effort from all of you. We¡¯ll be recording times,¡± he said, holding aloft a brass stopwatch and piece of paper. ¡°Let¡¯s go. We only have an hour together.¡±

    Everyone dragged their feet as much as possible as we were led to the sporting grounds on the extremities of the campus with spare clothes in hand. Sports like football and a modified version of baseball were popular forms of entertainment, and formalised sports leagues were starting to congregate and host competitions to see who was the best. The academy also had its own internal teams for each. Most participated without any expectations of turning it into a job. It was a social event designed to keep fit more than anything else. To accommodate them, there was a selection of facilities designed for sporting endeavours ¨C including athletics like running and long jumping. They were rather anachronistic additions to the setting, but I wasn¡¯t the original writer. I¡¯d have to reserve my complaints for the next life.

    The girls and boys separated into the changing rooms and started to switch into more appropriate clothing. I found a nice, isolated spot in the corner and attempted to do the same without anyone drawing attention to me. It was going to be tough. I couldn¡¯t contort my body into the correct position without flexing my muscles, and the clothes I had with me exposed my legs and arms much more than the uniform. The whispers started to circulate quickly about my choice of underwear and my build.

    ¡°Woah, check out Lady Maria!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s so pretty, but she has such a muscular body...¡±

    My eye twitched as yet another bullet point was added to the increasingly lengthy list of urban legends about me. I did my best to change quickly and get out of sight before anybody else got funny ideas about why I was so ripped at the age of thirteen. Not that it was possible for a young, pubescent girl to build muscles like I used to have in my old life, anyway. The difference was still loud and clear. Anyone who took their health seriously stood out from the crowd. Samantha was not spared the observational comedy thanks to her height and robust build. She was the very image of a girl who ate well and worked hard.

    We left the changing room and lined up at the edge of the track. Since I was the one who had left first, I was also the one who had to wait the longest for everyone else. It was a nice day, but it was still cold when I was standing there in a shirt and knee-length pants. Professor Moss was beside himself in anticipation. This was one of the concessions that the headmaster had given away to earn his spot on the rotating roster of tutors we had to deal with.

    Unethical? Perhaps. A convenient excuse to have Samantha, Maria and the love interests interact? Certainly.

    Adrian was already limbering up behind the line. He smirked and flexed his arms in a poor attempt to intimidate me. ¡°This is going to be a rare humiliation for you, Maria. There is simply no prospect of you getting one over on me in athletics. It¡¯ll be my victory!¡±

    I stared at him, ¡°This is not a competition.¡±

    ¡°Running scared already! It is okay. I will accept your surrender without conditions attached.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t going to stand for that kind of talk. Adrian had activated my competitive side. Initially, I was going to hold back and avoid making myself stand out, but he pissed me off by running his mouth again. I was going to crush him and his pride into little pieces, and everyone would get to see it happen. I did some stretches to warm up my muscles while the rest of the class filtered out into the yard.

    Moss was rambling his way through some factoids about the human body; ¡°The muscles that we use to move are made of fibres, long connected strings of cells that can be broken down and rebuilt. By moving today, you¡¯ll reconstruct them in a few days¡¯ time to be stronger than before. I¡¯d like to go through some exercises that will work every part of your body! Let¡¯s begin with some shorter challenges, before moving to the longer ones.¡±

    He had already retrieved a basket filled with baseballs from the field shed. The first task was to throw one as far as it could go. He¡¯d measure the distance travelled and make a leaderboard so that we could compare our scores. Samantha was up first. She took one of the balls from the basket and wound up, releasing it with a fairly powerful throw that carried it halfway across the field. Moss unwound a long tape measure and travelled from her launching point until he had a firm estimate of how far it had gone. The audience was impressed with her initial effort. A lot of the boys struggled to get close to her record. She was only pipped for the top spot ten contestants later by one of the athletic kids.

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    Adrian was up next, and there was a collective eye-roll through everyone present as he started showboating before he even stepped up to the mark. He took his sweet time selecting the ¡®optimal¡¯ ball to throw too, hoping that every little edge would allow him to finally win a contest versus me after years of acrimonious meetings. He wound up, kicking his leg into the air as he went, and released it at a poor angle. It lacked both velocity and height, skipping off the ground and coming to a halt some distance behind the rest of the top quadrant. Regardless, he believed that it was enough to beat me judging by the cocky smirk on his face as he returned to the line.

    ¡°Miss Walston-Carter.¡±

    It was fate. I walked up and took a random ball from the basket, palming it to get a feel for the texture and weight. I stepped onto the mark and cracked my wrist. I wound up and threw it, using my reflexes to pick the best possible angle. It soared through the air as I put more strength into it than I had intended.

    It kept going, and going, and going. I winced internally as it flew past the number one spot and landed at the other end of the field. The class was left in stunned silence as I leapfrogged the rest of the competition and took my place at the top spot. Moss threw up his hands and grumbled knowing that he had to walk the full length of the field to measure it, ¡°I suppose that¡¯s the winning throw!¡±

    Adrian was silent as the other boys ribbed him for pouting about it.

    <hr>

    Samantha, Claudius and Maxwell were regrouping away from the crowd after the first round of their impromptu sports day. Samantha had seen a lot of strange things through Maria, but this was a new high in terms of absurdity. She had destroyed the record of one of the boys who was a full-time member of the baseball club! She hadn¡¯t even broken a sweat, and it was impossible to ignore the muscles that popped out from under her skin when she did it. In fact, her entire body was extremely toned and well-maintained. It was embarrassing to admit ¨C but she had spied on her briefly while she changed.

    ¡°I keep telling you, there¡¯s something going on with that girl,¡± Claudius gloated, ¡°Do you think that a normal lady would be capable of doing something like that?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s good at throwing, so what?¡± Maxwell replied.

    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t say that! She just made Johnathan look like an amateur!¡±

    ¡°He is an amateur.¡±

    ¡°You get what I mean,¡± Claude scoffed. Even if Johnathan was a new member of the club and he wasn¡¯t particularly amazing at fielding, he still should have been able to beat Maria in a throwing competition. Maria had never indicated that she was secretly a huge fan of sports. It only acted to further inflame his curiosity. It also reinforced his mistaken belief that Maria had punched a tree to pieces to intimidate Felipe.

    Samantha was similarly entranced with the young noble. She had a clear view of how her limbs reacted as they moved through the air, ¡°I have to say that her body is very well trained. It looks like she has been exercising regularly.¡±

    Max¡¯s brow raised, ¡°What did the professor say, a healthy body is a healthy mind? I guess it would make sense given how much of a perfectionist she seems to be.¡±

    Claudius jumped back in, ¡°Or perhaps it¡¯s just training so that she can be a human weapon! She could kill us all using her bare hands!¡±

    Maxwell laughed, ¡°She might be athletic, but I highly doubt a girl that short could wrap her hands around my neck.¡± He always lavished in the attention that came with being one of the tallest boys in the first year. His admirers were numerous ¨C though he did not often humour their attempts to win his heart as he had no interest in romance at the moment. If anyone, Samantha was the girl who interested him the most by virtue of being so different to everyone else. Out of respect for her decision-making, he had not revealed this small crush openly.

    Though at the moment, it seemed to him that Samantha was more infatuated with Lady Maria than him. Was she starting to fall for her feminine wiles as well? Heaven forbid that one of the female students not become a rabid fan of hers.

    The next challenge issued was a short sprint from the mark to the halfway line on the field, which would be recorded using a stopwatch. Moss travelled through the list of students once more. Adrian Rederro would not be deterred by his first defeat at Maria¡¯s hands. He set off from a kneeling position like a bloodhound seeking its prey. He managed the full sprint in nineteen seconds. Maxwell, Claudius and Samantha could all feel the punchline coming from a mile away.

    Maria lined up from the same spot, touched the ground with the tips of her fingers, and launched herself at full pelt. The girls cheered and squealed as her black hair waved in the wind. She dashed across the grass at a blindingly fast speed ¨C skidding to a halt as she passed the professor. He pressed the button, his eyes bulging outwards at the recorded time.

    ¡°Fifteen seconds, very impressive.¡±

    Adrian was furious, again. Though any words he could have offered as an excuse would only further his alienation from the class. Maria had smashed his record and didn¡¯t even break a sweat while she was at it. She returned to the starting line without a single indicator that she had just performed an intense sprint. Her breath remained even and her skin was untouched by the cruel hand of perspiration.

    ¡°God above, she was like a bullet!¡± Claudius yelled, ¡°At what point does this stop being normal to you? She¡¯s strong, she¡¯s fast ¨C it¡¯s completely contradictory to the way that she carries herself.¡±

    ¡°Even a noble lady might be interested in staying fit,¡± Samantha said.

    The excuses continued rolling, as did Maria¡¯s categorical dismantling of the rest of the class. Even at an age where the physical differences between the boys and girls had become more apparent with the onset of puberty, she ran rings around them. Every achievement would be undercut by her in short order, and every single time she returned to the group with the same expressionless glare. Adrian had made a serious error of judgement by challenging her. Claudius was feeling a similar sense of frustration as his friends continued to bat away his observations.

    It didn¡¯t add up! How could a lady like Maria have so much athletic acumen? Where did she find the time to study, train and practice magic all at once? There must have been a secret to it. Claudius wanted to know ¨C and there was only methodology he could think of. Maria had spoken with him at length while tutoring him in biology a few weeks ago. If he could convince the professor that he needed tutoring again, then perhaps he could pry away some answers by making small talk. He smirked. That was it! A great plan that couldn¡¯t possibly go wrong.

    Claudius had to admit that he scared himself with his own genius sometimes.

 Chapter 21

    ¡°He wants another study session?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Claudius came to me a few hours ago and asked me to forward that message to you. I think he¡¯s a little shy about asking you in person. I can even get a private room booked for you if you¡¯d like.¡±

    It was with those words that I was bound by an unspoken contract. Professor Prier did his best to appeal to my generous side and asked me to assist Claudius in catching up once again. He did note that his grades had improved significantly since our last meeting, so he wanted me to rub some of my work ethic off onto him once again. I agreed only to keep him out of my hair. I was given a time and place and left the classroom for my next lesson. I didn¡¯t think much of it until the time came to fulfil my end of the bargain.

    I was very assured that nothing strange was going on until I entered the wing of the building that Prier had specified. It wasn¡¯t the main, H-shaped building in the centre of the grounds, but one of the outlying buildings that were reserved for various other purposes. This particular building was once used as accommodation for the teachers, but that practice had fallen out of fashion in recent years and most preferred to commute from the nearby villages instead.

    The moment I stepped through the front door, I realised that I was the only person inside. Each step echoed outwards into an empty atrium. Everyone else was busy with their own studies or societies at this time of day. The unused rooms in the building could be booked by the students, though I saw little reason to do so when the dorm library was already well-stocked with everything you could need.

    I could feel the hair standing up on the back of my neck. This had all the makings of a trap. My instincts rarely turned out to be wrong, and there was no harm in being cautious. I made sure that nobody was following me or stalking the long, carpeted halls before heading up the stairs and to the room that Trevor claimed we could use. The door was already unlocked when I twisted the handle.

    It was one of the oldest tricks in the book. I pushed it open and stepped back. There was no sign of Claudius sitting at the table, which meant that...

    ¡°Rargh!¡±

    There was no time to worry about what it meant, as some moron in a black mask leapt from behind the door and swung at me with a knife. I ducked the wild slash and rolled through, ending up exactly where I didn¡¯t want to be. He turned on his heel and pursued me inside with the weapon held aloft. His build was large, that of an adult man, and the way he held the knife made it obvious that this wasn¡¯t his first rodeo. The culprit behind the shooting had shown himself at last.

    He came at me again. I stepped back out of his range, which forced him to change strategies; taking the dagger in both hands and running at me to pull me into a short-range skirmish. There was no way for me to win that fight as things were. My back bumped into the rim of the table as he closed in. I flipped over it and landed on my feet. My attacker could do nothing as I kicked the edge and forced it into him. He fell back onto the floor but retained his grip on the weapon.

    I knew better than to fight unarmed against someone using a knife. All they needed to do was charge at me and get a good angle to perforate one of my organs or cut a vital artery. Now that he was stunned, I rushed back through the door and into the hallway. I cursed myself for wearing the black loafers that came with my uniform ¨C they were not made for running! There was only one person who could have set this up, but their motivations were a complete mystery to me.

    My first priority was survival. As I passed one of the windows I took the opportunity to tear a piece of the curtain away and twist it into a fairly strong piece of rope. It wouldn¡¯t block the sharp end of a knife, but I wasn¡¯t going to use it for that. I stepped into another open room and slammed the door shut behind me. I could hear his footsteps moving around the space as he tried to find me. If he had done his due diligence before attacking me, he would have noted that the floors were very loud. People never planned for contingencies like this. He believed that he could surprise me, stab me, and hide my body without anyone finding out.

    It was a damn shame that he picked a fight with me.

    As soon as I heard him pass my doorway, I opened it again and leapt onto his back. His arms flailed as he tried to wrestle me off, but soon the bite of my makeshift garrotte was pulling back on his neck and constricting his airway. He wheezed as panic started to set in. The human mind was not capable of fully rational decision-making when it was being put under time pressure like this. In this case, he still had his wits about him. He gave up on trying to slash me with his knife and backed me up into the wall. I was forced to release his neck and guard my face as he attempted to bludgeon me with his elbow.

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    The bone in my forearm wailed in protest as he placed it under extreme duress. Body parts could be exchanged in a fight for progress. Once I saw my window, I reached around and scratched at his eyes with my nails. It was a dirty trick ¨C but anything goes when your life''s on the line. Tired of my fun and games, he grabbed the side of my shirt and flung me away onto the floor, tearing away some of the fabric as I went.

    ¡°You bitch! I knew you were gonna¡¯ be a problem!¡±

    He rubbed the red mark that I had left on his neck and tried to catch a breath before I fled again. All of these decisions were being made on the fly within milliseconds of the situation changing. I reached down to my thigh to try and draw my gun ¨C but I discovered that the tightness of my skirt was too much to give me a good angle so that I could unlatch it. There was no time to pull the buttons free and loosen it. All that work to buy a holster for my gun and I didn¡¯t even have the chance to use it.

    With that plan scrapped, I moved on and tried to unsettle him. I jumped up onto my feet and goaded him on, ¡°Not very tough for such a large gentleman.¡±

    Whatever he was expecting when he pieced together this plan, me taking the fight back to him was definitely not included. I grabbed my curtain whip from the floor and unravelled it to give me some slack. He was furious, charging at me like an angry bull who was seeing red. I stepped aside and dodged his thrust, wrapping the underside of the curtain around his wrist and kicking his knee out from under him. I whipped his captive arm to the side and slammed it into the wall. The knife finally flew from between his fingers as I repeated the process three more times. I placed my foot against the knife and kicked it along the ground, sending it spiralling down the polished floor and out of range.

    This was not how I was used to fighting. His size and strength advantage was significant, and there was only so much leverage I could squeeze out of my own body. Now that the knife was no longer in play, the would-be killer decided to abandon his initial plan and do things the old-fashioned way. He cracked his neck and his knuckles, ready to beat down a thirteen-year-old girl in a brawl. I¡¯m sure it made him feel like a big man.

    My body wasn¡¯t strong enough to leave any lasting damage without a weapon. I could bruise him, and maybe leave a cut using my knuckles, but I did not expect any more than that. I did the smart thing instead and turned around. He gave chase as I ran towards the knife that I had just idiotically discarded out of instinct. I was still a faster runner. I slid to a halt and grabbed it, but when I turned back he was already gone.

    ¡°Crap!¡±

    He had slipped down the corridor that split off at the intersection. I stayed on the left and peered around but there was no sign of him. He¡¯d thought better of trying to get the knife back and ran away. I pocketed the knife and sighed. He¡¯d ripped a hole clean through the abdominal area of my shirt. It was a learning experience I would not soon forget. The skirt was an element that I hadn¡¯t even considered before; it had prevented me from shooting him dead and ending the issue then and there.

    If he believed that he had gotten away without showing his hand, he had another thing coming. I had sussed him out. I knew his tricks and ways, and I had a very good idea of who the man behind the mask really was. Hard evidence would confirm my thinking, and now that I had a prime suspect the hiding place for the gun had come into sharp focus. He may just have buried it somewhere after all, but not in the gardens. My own trap would have to wait. Cleaning up the mess I had caused came first.

    The curtain and torn cloth were neatly tucked into my pocket for later disposal, and I did a fast run-through of the fight to make sure that no evidence had been left of my presence. A few strands of my hair had somehow gotten entangled in places. Genetic matching wasn¡¯t a concern, but it was characteristic of me as Maria ¨C and any hints as to what had really happened here were unwanted.

    Once the sweep was done I headed back down the stairs and into the yard. Dodging the students who were out and about on the grounds was difficult, but I somehow made my way to the dorm room without anyone stopping me or asking questions. The fabric pieces were shoved into the bottom of my suitcase¡¯s gun compartment so that I could burn them later. I could make an excuse for the torn shirt if someone were to see it. The teachers would write it off as some light mischief or vandalism from a problem student if they ever noticed the damage at all.

    I sat down on the bed and took a moment to think over what had just happened. Even an assassin as experienced as me would get rattled by a surprise attack. It was the same with every job I took. Adrenaline would flood my body and make my heart pound in my ears. I could only calm down after everything was done. I¡¯d sit in my house and take an hour to digest the events that had just occurred.

    I knew who it was.

    All of the pieces had fallen into place. Now I just needed to come up with a plan of my own to be rid of them. They¡¯d be scrambling to patch the leak they¡¯d caused by shooting at Felipe and me.  The real unknown factor was whether the killer understood that I had deduced who they were. It would determine their next course of action, but ultimately, they rested at the same branching-off point. They would return to their hideout and recover the weapon; that single piece of hard evidence was all I needed.

    Tomorrow I would launch my counterattack.

 Chapter 22

    Trevor Prier.

    According to some of the other, older students at the school ¨C he had only joined the faculty in the past year. He put on a convincing persona as a harmless and somewhat eccentric biology Professor. His qualifications were the real deal, but everything else about him stunk to high heaven. He was the man who I believed had fired on us after our magic lesson. He would have access to the clocktower, and our schedules, and now he had even arranged for me to walk into an ambush. I kept my eye out for him the next day but he was nowhere to be seen.

    Professor Prier could often be seen heading into the greenhouse to tend to the exotic plants that lived inside. Given that he was trying to eliminate me and potentially Felipe too, it wasn¡¯t hard to make a judgement on where he would go next. If he was trying to hide the gun that he had used, the greenhouse would be the first place to look. I waited until a specific time to make my move. Once the corridors were clear and nobody sought to spend some time in the gardens, I grabbed my gun and some gloves and headed down to investigate.

    The greenhouse was big enough to be a real house; they liked to do everything bigger at the royal academy. The front door was held shut from the inside by a latch that was incredibly easy to jostle open using a piece of thin metal. The interior space was dominated by four rows of planters. The foliage was so dense that it was impossible to see from front to back, or from side to side. There was a strong floral scent in the air thanks to the variety of foreign plants on display.

    Since the greenhouse was only used for botany studies at a higher level, people rarely entered it, never mind inspecting the disturbances on the ground for discrepancies. I couldn¡¯t cast suspicion on every patch of loose dirt in the greenhouse but if he had buried it somewhere shallow, there was an easier way for me to check before digging. I grabbed a trowel from one of the workbenches and got down into a kneeling position. I lifted my arm into the air and started to rapidly stab the ground beneath the wooden frames with some serious force. He had to be keeping the gun in some kind of container. I was halfway around the room when finally...

    Thunk.

    I couldn¡¯t stop the smile from spreading across my face as the trowel stopped dead with a loud, wooden clatter. I turned the trowel sideways and excavated the dirt on the top layer, revealing a crate that had been hidden in the flowerbed. I cleared away the mess and tugged on the rope handle, only noticing that there was a metal padlock when I was stopped dead in my tracks. I used the sharp end of the trowel and beat it to all hell, shattering it to pieces and allowing me entry.

    Inside was exactly what I was looking for. A dirty, but usable rifle of the type that I had seen in the store catalogue. It had been heavily modified with a shortened barrel and new iron sights, which made it difficult to tell which one it was at first glance. It didn¡¯t matter. I knew that this was the gun that had been used to shoot at me last week. Trevor Prier was certain to be the man I was looking for, and presumably the one who attacked me with a knife the day before.

    I heard the door rattle as someone tried to enter.

    I quickly took the rifle and some of the ammunition and hid in the back corner, just close enough to hear what they were doing when they approached. Their footsteps were loud thanks to the tiled floor that ran down each side. When they noticed the unearthed box, there was a gasp of shock. They were distracted, so I loaded a round into the chamber and made my presence known.

    ¡°Mister Prier. I didn¡¯t expect to see you again so soon.¡±

    He turned on me and held out his hands, ¡°M-Maria? What are you doing with that thing?¡±

    My eyes narrowed as he continued to play the fool, ¡°I just decided to come and inspect these lovely flowers you¡¯ve been growing. But for some strange reason, there was a box with this hiding inside of it. I wonder how it got there.¡±

    ¡°Please point it somewhere else! What on Earth are you thinking, young lady?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking... that you¡¯re the one who shot at me and Felipe a week ago, and the one who decided to try and stab me yesterday.¡± I nodded towards him as I noticed the high collar and ascot he was using to cover his neck, ¡°Trying to cover up the marks I left by choking you?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± he scowled.

    ¡°Take it off, now.¡±

    At gunpoint and under duress, there was nothing he could do but follow my order and remove the rag. As I expected ¨C his skin was marred by a harsh red line where I had pulled on his neck during our fight. Prier knew that the game was up now. I had figured out his identity and found evidence of the original crime.

    His accent changed as he dropped his act, ¡°What are you gonna¡¯ do about it? Turn me in?¡±

    ¡°I was thinking that I could just kill you.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have the guts to do something like that.¡±

    ¡°Really? I almost had you yesterday. There¡¯s no way that I¡¯m going to back down now. You¡¯re going to pay for trying to kill me, you¡¯re too dangerous to be left alive.¡±

    His face twisted as his anger came to the surface, ¡°You bitch! Don¡¯t you dare point that gun at me! There¡¯s no way, how did you figure it out?¡±

    ¡°It was pretty damn simple actually. You knew our schedules and had a key to get access to the clocktower, which meant you had to be a member of staff. When I was wandering the campus alone you were following me, but you decided to make a play for my trust instead of pulling the trigger because Samantha was there watching on the steps. And we can¡¯t ignore the fact that this is the gun that you used to shoot at us ¨C using this exact bullet.¡±

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    I pulled the empty shell casing from my pocket and threw it at his feet.

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± he demanded.

    ¡°Me? There¡¯s a very simple answer to that. I¡¯m Maria Walston-Carter, of course.¡±

    We stared each other down as he tried to think of a way out of this situation. I was not waiting for his benefit. I had arrived at the greenhouse at this exact time for a very specific reason. Prier was so disturbed by me discovering his identity that he didn¡¯t realise it himself; even though it was a trick that he had used to try and kill me before.

    ¡°Why did you try to kill me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a bloody screw loose if you think I¡¯m telling you anything. I spill all the details to you, and you pull the trigger anyway. What do I get out of it?¡±

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll let you go,¡± I joked. He didn¡¯t find it half as amusing as I did. His shoulders tensed as I broke out into an involuntary burst of high-pitched laughter using Maria¡¯s characteristic up-and-down ¡®Ohoho.¡¯

    ¡°Like I said, a little girl like you doesn¡¯t have the sack to kill a man. Stop pretending that you¡¯re willing to get those pampered little fingers dirty.¡± I remained silent and allowed the seconds to keep counting down. He was nervous; I could tell that he wasn¡¯t expecting anyone to get the better of him. I was more than willing to kill if it was necessary to protect myself and others. What¡¯s more, I had taken precautions to make sure that nobody would find out that it was me.

    Bong!

    The metal frame and thin glass rattled as the explosive bell chime vibrated the campus. Prier¡¯s face turned to a pure expression of primordial terror as he finally figured out what my angle was. I had not anticipated him making an appearance so soon. This was nothing more than a stroke of chance. The heat was too much and he was planning to remove all of the evidence that led back to him. His botched ambush had thrown his plans into total disarray.

    ¡°H-Hey, let¡¯s not be too hasty here!¡±

    Bong!

    I pulled the trigger at that moment. I wasn¡¯t aiming for a kill shot just yet. The recoil pushed me back as the cartridge ripped through his left shin and left a splatter of blood against the tiles below. He screamed in pain and fell down onto his hands and knees. He tried to push himself away, but he stopped when he saw me loading another shell.

    ¡°You have five chimes left to tell me everything.¡±

    ¡°I-I can¡¯t!¡±

    Bong!

    ¡°Four.¡±

    Prier now understood perfectly well. As he stared into my eyes he did not see the soul of a young child or a pampered noble lady who was coasting her way through life. It was explicit. I was a killer. That previous threat to end his life was not a bluff, I had lured him here for that exact purpose and timed it to cover up my crime. The speed at which I moved during his first attempt, and the way I fought back in the second, they were not flukes. His assessment of the threat I posed had rested solely on me knowing too much. It was too late to correct that mistake now.

    ¡°You can¡¯t even do anything! What the hell do you wanna¡¯ know about this for?¡±

    I was getting impatient with his stalling, ¡°Spill it before I spill your brains on the floor!¡±

    Bong!

    ¡°Three.¡±

    His unscrupulous nature won out over any sense of loyalty or duty to his client. Firer spoke so quickly and with such urgency that it was almost too fast for me to comprehend. ¡°W-We got paid to kill Felipe Escobarus, okay? Some big shot was pissed off that he got engaged to Beatrice Booker! He wanted to arrange a business agreement with her family, but Felipe got in the way before they could seal the deal!¡±

    Bong!

    Two. I continued to train the gun on him. There was no time to reckon with his words, ¡°So why did you try to kill me?¡±

    He clutched his bleeding leg and shook his head frantically, ¡°You were there when I took the first shot. You knew too much! When your friend came and asked for a study session I decided to get rid of you before things got too problematic. That¡¯s all I¡¯m gonna¡¯ say.¡±

    My paranoia was well placed but for the wrong reasons. It seemed that Felipe was the one who was in imminent danger of being assassinated. Without the name or identity of the person who was trying to kill him, the attempts would surely continue until they succeeded. I had foolishly never even considered the possibility. It was a personal failing that I had to admit to. I thought so little of the people around me that I thought everything revolved around the way that I behaved. Clearly, that was not the case. Had my proximity to Felipe and his sister kickstarted this entire thing?

    ¡°You¡¯re going to let me go, right? You¡¯re not gonna¡¯ kill me...¡±

    Bong!

    I sighed, ¡°I have to say. This was a situation of your own making, was it not? To take such an immense risk, and then to do it again. The only person to blame for this is yourself.¡±

    He shook his head so frantically that he could have snapped it by himself. There was no more debate or argument to be had. He had told me everything he was willing to share and there was only one chime left on the clock. This meeting was adjourned. For the last time ¡®Prier¡¯ tried to make a run for the door, but he was only left hobbling and limping on the ground as the blood loss robbed him of his balance.

    Bong!

    I pulled the trigger again and fired the second shot through his chest. He cried out again and fell to the ground face-first with a smoking hole in the back of his jacket. I unloaded the shell and allowed it to fall to the floor. There it was; the first in a long line of dead men that would be sure to come in time. I had no time to consider the consequences now. I dropped the gun to the floor and took a moment to survey the scene. There was no hiding this one. His body was too large for me to move without being seen from the building¡¯s windows.

    When in doubt, just leave it alone.

    I didn¡¯t need to pepper the crime scene with any more evidence. It was the entire reason why I had brought the gloves to conceal my fingerprints. I stepped over his corpse and headed for the exit. I took one last glance to make sure that he was really dead before I closed it and locked the door behind me using his key. Some poor teacher was going to be traumatised when they found him, but it was better than letting him kill Felipe just for the sake of some business merger. The key was tossed up and onto the roof just to frustrate them further. I slipped my gloves into my pockets and headed back to the main building.

    There were a lot of things to consider now. Felipe had already been marked for death by someone ¨C and that meant that keeping my distance from him wasn¡¯t going to be very effective. I needed to keep an eye on him for the time being just to make sure that he wasn¡¯t in any danger. I could not predict how the school would react when they found Prier¡¯s body, but the investigation may lead them to details about his real profession. Would they be willing to cover up a murder on campus as they had with the original attempt on Felipe¡¯s life? As I returned to the inhabited area of the school, a variety of different voices washed over me. They were blissfully unaware of the fact that a killer walked amongst them.

    I had crossed the line yet again. It was a cold comfort that this time was more noble than the first in both form and purpose.

 Chapter 23

    ¡°Shot dead with his own weapon!¡±

    Erwin Tees was incandescent with simmering rage. Prier¡¯s attempts to track down and kill Felipe Escobarus had run into difficulties, but to lose his life in the process was beyond his most pessimistic expectations. It was all over the newspapers ¨C the scandalous story of a teacher shot and killed on campus with nobody being able to find the culprit. Erwin was the only one who knew the truth. Prier was his man on the ground, he¡¯d been receiving updates from him for weeks about his progress, and now everything had gone to waste. He tore the paper in two and threw it into the air as the rest of the gang looked on wearily.

    He took a deep breath and tried to collect himself; ¡°Listen you miserable lot, there¡¯s a lot of money at stake here. If you think I¡¯m mad, then you should see what the client looks like right now. We¡¯re back to square one!¡± Erwin had been stuck in this cycle for hours. He bounded rapidly between uncontrollable anger and helplessly emphasising just how screwed they were. A small part of him hoped that someone from amongst their number would step up to the plate and remedy the problem for him. No such salvation was forthcoming.

    ¡°Let me take care of it, boss.¡± Eidos Bolte stepped through the throng and submitted himself, ¡°I don¡¯t know much about what the job is, but if there¡¯s a lot of money on the table ¨C I¡¯ll get it done one way or another.¡±

    Erwin nodded, ¡°Fine. At least one of you has a bloody spine!¡± He led Eidos through the door and into his office, where a spattering of letters and reports covered the desk. Erwin picked out a select few and handed them to his new agent. ¡°These should get you up to speed. I don¡¯t know how he ended up dead ¨C but Prier had already told me that he was concerned about one girl in particular.¡±

    ¡°A girl?¡± Eidos scoffed.

    ¡°Yeah, a girl. I don¡¯t know what you look so bemused for. When you¡¯ve got a gun in hand, your age doesn''t matter much.¡±

    Eidos chuckled, ¡°I get it, boss. I killed my first man when I was ten after all.¡±

    ¡°A lot of us did. This girl here, Maria Walston-Carter. He said that she witnessed him trying to shoot Felipe Escobarus and got him out of danger. Wouldn¡¯t mean much if she wasn¡¯t so damn fast and cool under pressure. He said she was like a pro.¡±

    Eidos studied her file carefully, one pilfered from the archives by Prier before his untimely death. Prier was even more pathetic than he thought if he was killed off by a pretty little thing like her. She¡¯d get blown away by a strong gust of wind, never mind the recoil of Prier¡¯s favourite rifle. He unclipped the small profile picture and put it into his pocket for later.

    ¡°Now that our man on the inside is dead, this is going to be much harder. We don¡¯t have access to the campus anymore ¨C and security is going to be tightened with someone dead on the premises.¡±

    Eidos drew a shimmering dagger and held it up to the light, ¡°Don¡¯t you worry one bit, Erwin. I¡¯ll have them burning so fast that they won¡¯t even know what hit ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will. But try to keep the collateral damage to a minimum. We have enough heat on our backs as is.¡±

    Eidos waved him off and headed back through the door. He didn¡¯t need to hear his admonishment before he had even started. Eidos was an experienced assassin and he understood the high stakes that were attached to their latest client. It was the single biggest payday that any of Erwin¡¯s gang would ever see. It would take a serious idiot to throw caution to the wind and get caught. Prier was an idiot and that was why he was dead. Eidos would never air his grievances with Erwin personally, but he never liked Prier in the first place. It was probably for the best that he was gone.

    He chuckled to himself cockily, ¡°Maria and Felipe huh? They better say their prayers.¡±

    <hr>

    It took two days for the news to break.

    ¡°Can every student please stay in the dorm until one of the teachers comes and speaks with you?¡±

    Prier missed one of his lessons with the second-year students, and then another ¨C so the faculty set out to find where he had gotten to. The greenhouse was one of the first places they checked, and an hour later a cordon had been established around it to keep the students from seeing what was going on. Everyone was confined to their rooms and strictly forbidden from leaving until the police investigated the scene for evidence. I had to wonder what those detectives were thinking when they saw the scene.

    There was no way to rule his death as suicide. He had been shot twice, in different places, and at an angle from which he could not manipulate the gun properly. It would take an amazing feat of contortion to flip a rifle over your shoulder and shoot straight into your own spine. My room¡¯s window did not face the garden where the greenhouse was located so I was totally ignorant as to what was going on out there. The abrupt nature of our quarantine and the ensuing information vacuum that followed started to generate a large number of theories from the others.

    ¡°What do you think happened?¡±

    ¡°Did someone attack the campus?¡±

    ¡°I bet one of the girls jumped off of the roof, my older sister said that it used to happen a few times every year!¡±

    The rest of the students had congregated in the study, but a couple of teachers had been posted by the windows to ensure that nobody broke ranks and took a peek outside. I remained entirely unmoved by proceedings. They were not going to find evidence connecting his death back to me. A closer inspection would only reveal how suspicious Prier was, given that the box that contained the gun was in an area that he regularly visited. It was also possible that he had used the gun without wearing gloves first. The police may have been behind the times in some respects, but fingerprinting evidence was something that they had learned to do. His fingers would be the only marks they¡¯d find.

    Why would a cherub of a noble lady like myself kill a man in cold blood anyway? There was simply no prospect of them accusing me of shooting him, even if I did indulge in it as a hobby. From the outside it looked like he¡¯d gotten tangled with the wrong people and flown too close to the sun. That theory would be partly right. I was the wrong person.

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°You look rather pleased with yourself,¡± Maxwell commented - having snuck up on me with Samantha and Claudius in tow.

    ¡°Pleased? I don¡¯t have much to be pleased about at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Pft. Says the girl sitting pretty at the top of every exam score table right now.¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°Isn¡¯t that what most people expect from me by now? I don¡¯t find it particularly exciting to top a mock test.¡±

    Claudius was quick to point fingers as usual, ¡°I bet she knows why we¡¯re being kept here in the dorms. That¡¯s the face of a woman who¡¯s in control of the situation.¡±

    ¡°Oh? And what do you suppose I¡¯m responsible for?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯ve been investigating some strange goings on around here for a week now. I¡¯ll figure it out eventually. Just you wait and see.¡±

    ¡°By the way, did you speak with Professor Prier about another tutoring session?¡±

    He tensed up as I brought the conversation back into reality, ¡°Ah! I did. But he said that he¡¯d need to speak with you first. He never got around to giving me the okay. It¡¯s fine. I¡¯ve been studying on my own anyway if you don¡¯t have the time.¡±

    I had to ask how seriously Claudius was taking his villainess theory if he could then move on to asking me for a one-on-one study session. Was this all just fun and games, or did he actually intend to expose me for a supposed crime that existed only in his mind? It was internally contradictory. I couldn¡¯t figure him out.

    The discussion was disrupted by the arrival of Catherine Selldorf ¨C the girl who had tried to suck up to me during my first week at the school. She had a face like thunder, directed entirely at the trio who had approached me without my asking. She pointed a slender finger into Claudius¡¯ face and yelled at him, ¡°Why are you bothering Lady Maria? Can¡¯t you see that she isn¡¯t interested in hearing your worthless common talk?¡±

    ¡°Common talk? Big words coming from a girl who Maria doesn¡¯t even give the time of day to!¡± Claudius snapped back.

    They were starting to attract a lot of attention from the other students who had grown bored of waiting to hear about what was going on. Catherine¡¯s face turned bright red as she stewed in place.

    ¡°Who do you think you are? You¡¯re nothing more than a fool who is too entranced with flights of fancy to study properly! Do us all a favour and drop out if you¡¯re not interested in making something of yourself!¡±

    Max stepped in to vouch for his childhood friend, ¡°You should mind your own business and stop starting trouble with the other students. Didn¡¯t Maria already tell you to kick sand last time?¡±

    Catherine turned to me and tried to earn my acknowledgement for her interruption, though it was simply too difficult to hide my irritation at being intercepted by a fangirl once again. I chastised her, ¡°Being spoken to is not so upsetting that I require your intervention, Catherine. Please keep it to yourself.¡± That took the wind out of her sails. She slinked away like a kowtowed puppy and left us to our discourse.

    Max grumbled, ¡°You attract a lot of those people.¡±

    ¡°I never said I liked it. I may be short, but I¡¯m more than capable of handling myself.¡±

    Samantha was giving me a curious look. I had never been completely silent around other people, and if they spoke to me respectfully I would respond in kind. My real intention was to stay a certain distance from them. While my initial assumption that I was being targeted was incorrect, it led me down a different path of thought. I had gotten too close to Felipe. There was clearly some kind of scheme at play, a power or oversight beyond my comprehension. Reincarnating into a new life allowed me to accept many oddities I would have previously rejected out of hand. It begged to reason that I was here for a specific purpose.

    The uncertainty over what that purpose was filled me with anxiety. Anything more than the last moments I spent dying in the hotel lobby was more than I could have asked for given my actions. There were two conclusions that could be offered. One, this was some kind of divine punishment meant to show me the error of my ways, or two, whoever sent me here did so knowing that I¡¯d slip back into old habits and kill Prier. That was assuming there was a rational actor behind things, of course; this world was too familiar to the game for me to consider it a coincidence though.

    Just like how I had pieced together who the assassin was, I was keeping an eye out for clues as to my own position. My killing of Prier would be key to figuring things out. If I was being punished then I would not be rewarded for it. If my guarantor intended for this, then no such karmic consequence would be coming. It was a simple matter of eliminating the options applied to a complicated series of events.

    Back to the topic of Samantha. Like many protagonists, she was kind and friendly to everyone unless they gave her a reason not to be. She was reasonable to a fault because the writers wanted her to be sympathetic. Me rebuffing her with harsh words was not going to cause a serious rift between us. If anything, it had only stoked her curiosity. She wanted to know more about the enigma that was Maria Walston-Carter. Broaching that subject was where she would struggle.

    I could shut her down easily by refusing to talk. Considering her importance to the plot and her supposed destiny as a heroine, it would be extremely bad if I were to get her killed through proximity. I could accidentally doom the world that she was meant to save ¨C or whatever else happened in the later entries when I wasn¡¯t looking.

    It was a difficult line to walk. I had to be cold and impersonal, while also doing the bare minimum to keep up with my studies. There were some who did not care for my reputation and approached me regardless of how I acted. Felipe was one of them. He appreciated my interest in magic so much that he couldn¡¯t pass by without stopping to see what I was doing. He was an acquaintance I could tolerate, but I would feel awful for getting him hurt if the danger he faced was correlated with my presence.

    The doors swung open and one of the senior teachers called for everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°May I have a moment to speak please!¡±

    The whispers quieted down for a moment.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that there has been a serious incident here on the campus. I¡¯m very sad to say that Professor Prier has been found deceased.¡±

    That quiet did not last for very long as various questions and exclamations of shock were thrown in their direction. It was so calamitous that none of their inquirers would be answered. The teacher raised their voice to try and shout over the chaos.

    ¡°You are now allowed to leave the dorm! But please do not interfere with the police¡¯s work! Classes will be suspended tomorrow while the faculty decides on the best course of action.¡± The people at the back had no hope of hearing the statement in full, but it would diffuse through the conversations that occurred in the wake of it. The teacher left us to ruminate on the death of someone we had seen just days before in class, a man who lived two lives at the same time and intended to kill one of those students using his access to the campus.

    ¡°Professor Prier is dead?¡± Claudius muttered, ¡°I can¡¯t believe it!¡±

    I closed my eyes and tried my best to look deeply affected by the news.

    Max was shocked, ¡°What in Adelite¡¯s good name? Did they find him in the greenhouse? I saw them setting up the cordon around it earlier.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s face was a mixture of different emotions, but the overarching feeling in the room was one of fear and unease. If one of the teachers could be found dead without anyone knowing, what did it mean for the students? I, on the other hand, was concerned about one person in particular. Felipe had been targeted for a reason. I didn¡¯t believe for one second that Prier was going to be the last one to make an attempt on his life. If they decided to close the school and send everyone home until the trouble blew over, I wouldn¡¯t be able to justify sticking around and protecting him.

    But since Felipe already considered me a friend and was in danger, perhaps being his friend had more advantages than disadvantages...

 Chapter 24

    When the students were finally given the go-ahead to leave the dorm wing, it was as if they had unleashed a fury of rumour and innuendo onto the campus. Some brave souls attempted to reach the outskirts of the crime scene only to be turned away by teacher and officer alike, others feared the prospect of seeing blood or even the now-removed body of Professor Prier. They were going to investigate it closely. This was one of, if not the most prestigious educational institution in the nation. There were too many important people here to let a murder pass untested.

    From the outside, I was the very image of calm grace and composed cool. All of my biggest fans were simply beside themselves with blind admiration. My mind was elsewhere. If Felipe was already in a dangerous situation, then my proximity to him would presumably make him safer. I protected him from Prier¡¯s first shot using the rifle ¨C but what would have happened if I wasn¡¯t there? It was with that concept that I decided to break with my previous strategy and get closer to him.

    Felipe had already completed much of the groundwork. He had ignored many of the rumours and approached me for open discussion about my studies. It would be simple enough to convince others that we were friends, or that he was taking care of an underclassman and guiding her through the weeds. The problem was that I was not the most sociable person. I could convince people that I meant to be somewhere I wasn¡¯t, but being open and emotionally attached to them posed a different set of challenges.

    I sought him out by heading into the other study which was closer to the upper years¡¯ dorms. He was sitting at one of the tables with his head between his hands. I cleared my throat to catch his attention. He looked up to me with clear anxiety written onto his features, plainer than the black ink in the books that lined the walls around us. He stood from his seat and addressed me.

    ¡°Can we speak in private, please?¡±

    ¡°Of course ¨C lead the way.¡±

    Felipe led me away from the hustle and bustle of the study and to an isolated area outside in the corridors. It wasn¡¯t one-hundred-percent secure, but it would be enough to keep curious ears away for our purposes. Out of sight of everyone else, he leaned up against the wall and sighed wearily.

    ¡°Did you hear the news? That the Professor is dead?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they gave the same speech to us as well.¡±

    Felipe swallowed and shook his head, ¡°I can¡¯t believe it. I understand that they asked us to keep quiet about the person trying to kill us ¨C but now someone else has paid the price for that silence. If they had done things properly, perhaps Professor Prier would still be alive now.¡±

    Felipe was suffering under some kind of survivor¡¯s guilt. The last thing I wanted or needed was for him to start acting irrationally now that Prier was dead, but I couldn¡¯t reveal to him that Prier was the man trying to kill us. Sharing a secret like that was liable to make things even more complicated. The best course of action was to say nothing and use simple logic to unpick the way he was feeling.

    I nodded to affirm his perspective but offered a contrary opinion, ¡°Sir Prier was aware of the situation himself. If he found it so distasteful, he would have aired his objections to the other teachers before they agreed to it.¡±

    The truth was that Prier would have eagerly accepted a vow of silence. He must have been in a panic about the failed attempt on Felipe''s life ¨C because it meant that the information game was taken out of his hands and put into ours. The headmaster offered him a second chance to do things right. None of them were going to talk out of fear of losing the custom of our wealthy parents and the alumni benefactors who funded the school. That strategy had been blown wide open by Prier¡¯s death. The press would be all over it like a pack of starving vultures.

    ¡°Aye. But suppose he did so under the threat of losing his job, they could have coerced him to take action he found unpalatable.¡±

    ¡°You need not blame yourself, Felipe. The culprit is the one who committed the crime, not the ones who evaded their ire. We are not expected to seek and capture the murderer ourselves. There is nothing to suggest that our survival led to his death. It is easy to draw lines between disconnected events in the aftermath.¡±

    Felipe exhaled, ¡°You¡¯re right, but I still feel terrible. I keep thinking about what might have changed if we spoke out. Maybe they would have suspended school and got him out of harm¡¯s way.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. I think that the headmaster¡¯s actions have little reasoning behind them now that the consequences have become clear.¡±

    I had successfully navigated the issue for the time being. I was not an empathetic soul at the best of times, so it came as a relief that Felipe wouldn¡¯t drive himself crazy over it. The practical purpose behind it was to disassociate him from the tangled web that was starting to weave around us. A lot of money was riding on Felipe dying and Beatrice Booker being left a girl in waiting once more.

    I had pieced together some of the events that led to him being marked. Several different families were in the running to marry Beatrice because she was the only descendant in the family, and no more heirs were on the horizon. She would inevitably inherit the gigantic business empire that her Father and Grandfather had built over hundreds of years. With that on the line various noble families had thrown everything into wooing them and taking her hand in marriage. The Escobarus family had slipped in at the last moment and shocked everyone else with an unusual offer. Felipe was to be married matrilineally to Beatrice and take her last name.

    Not quite the hostile takeover that the others were proposing. It would ensure that the Booker family would retain a certain level of independence from the Escobarus house, while still forging an important business relationship between them. In their eyes, it was better to have something from the deal than being left with nothing. Suddenly, the non-inheriting son had been inserted into the line for a serious treasure trove of money and influence. That was why he was so important, and why so many other families were furious with them.

    Felipe¡¯s old man had managed to piss off just about every family in the country with his chicanery. Matrilineal marriages were extremely rare and often done in low-stakes situations with members of the family who were not expected to lead the house in the future. It was a savvy call to offer one to Beatrice¡¯s father ¨C who was not seeking a merger with another family at the time.

    This posed a problem. There were too many suspects to count. Every family who had forwarded their kin now had cause to try and kill Felipe to annul the arrangement. Potentially billions of Walmarks were on the line, even more if the family in question had a business that would benefit from integrating with the Bookers¡¯. That kind of money was enough to drive anyone to desperate measures. The payoff was too great to think twice about being implicated in an assassination plot.

    Felipe forced out a chuckle, ¡°Did you come to make sure that I was okay? I didn¡¯t expect that from you, Maria.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°I didn¡¯t realise that our relationship was so cold. This much is to be expected of acquaintances, is it not?¡±

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°I have no idea why so many of the others call you ill-mannered. I was thinking that you didn¡¯t care about making many friends. Though Talia has been saying positive things about you for some time now. Don¡¯t tell her I said that.¡±

    I brushed my fringe aside and motioned to my chest proudly; ¡°Consider this a display of friendship, then. You are in rare and privileged company.¡± Felipe was in a much better mood now that I had spoken with him. It was the only thing I could do. None of the other students were aware of the original incident.

    ¡°I¡¯m honoured, honestly.¡±

    There was a moment of silence as I glanced out of the window and into the gardens. We weren¡¯t at the correct angle to see the greenhouse, but the police officers and detectives were scurrying back and forth in a wild search for whatever evidence was left. It would be a twisted tale to piece together. A man shot by his own gun, in a greenhouse that he and only a few others had access to. The low rumble of the other students speaking at volume could be heard echoing through the halls.

    ¡°I assume school will be suspended for a few days, if not longer. Our parents are going to be outraged about all of this.¡±

    ¡°Yes, there¡¯ll be no covering this up,¡± I commented. To be a fly on the wall in the staff room at this moment. The headmaster must have been turning greyer by the second as he was forced to deal with the media and the parents. There was no spinning this one into a positive, someone had died on the campus and it was no accident.

    Felipe straightened himself out and tried to put on a smile. ¡°I knew you were composed, but it was still something of a shock to see you walking into the study so unaffected. You really do have nerves of steel.¡±

    I made an excuse, ¡°I can feel uncertain, just as you can. I merely present myself confidentially even when the situation is dangerous.¡±

    ¡°How many dangerous situations do you get into?¡±

    ¡°Nothing quite as dangerous as being shot at with a gun.¡±

    Felipe and I drifted back towards the study as the discussion returned from Prier¡¯s death to something more casual. Beatrice was waiting at the door for him. She hurried over and took his hands into hers, ¡°Are you okay, Felipe?¡±

    He grinned, ¡°Yes. It¡¯s difficult to stay moody with you and Lady Maria looking out for me.¡±

    Beatrice regarded me with a friendly curtsey, ¡°I do hope that the incident has not upset you, Maria.¡±

    ¡°Upset? She was the one consoling me!¡± Felipe chuckled.

    ¡°You were just the young Lady that I wanted to speak with,¡± Beatrice continued, ¡°We are hosting a ball at our estate soon and I¡¯d like to extend an invitation to you and your Father.¡±

    ¡°A ball?¡± I repeated, ¡°Where will you find the time between lessons?¡±

    ¡°Beatrice¡¯s estate is very close to the academy,¡± Felipe explained, ¡°Tis¡¯ only an hour¡¯s walk from here, and even faster by carriage. A lot of the girls were hoping to host a ball before the final year graduates, and Beatrice offered to utilise her estate for the event.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then I would be happy to attend, of course.¡±

    That was the biggest lie of the day so far. I¡¯d been to a few balls in my years, and each and every one was a profound exercise in boredom. They were essentially networking events with a fancy top-coat and expensive dresses. It was where a lot of matchmaking and deal brokering happened between the families. Most of the girls wanted to compete and see who had the nicest outfit. I was not interested.

    Beatrice clasped her hands together in delight, ¡°Wonderful! I hope to see you wearing your best. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll look amazing, Maria.¡±

    ¡°I will endeavour not to disappoint you.¡±

    The words tainted my mouth with a sour taste.

    <hr>

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you that something fishy is going on here,¡± Claudius opined. Around the table sat Talia, Samantha and Maxwell. ¡°First the teachers start acting strangely, and now one of them has been killed. It must be connected.¡±

    Maxwell shrugged, ¡°There¡¯s no evidence that they¡¯re connected. I¡¯m still not even sure what you mean when you say the teachers are acting differently.¡±

    Talia piled on too, ¡°And it¡¯s easy to claim that things are strange after they happen. Why wouldn¡¯t it be strange? One of the teachers just got rolled out of here under a white sheet...¡±

    Claudius clicked his tongue disapprovingly, ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that I¡¯ve been on the trail of this case for some time now. I thought that things were odd, and now there¡¯s even more evidence to support that.¡±

    Samantha was withering, ¡°This isn¡¯t a game. Someone is dead.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not treating it like a game. I don¡¯t know if the professor had any family or friends waiting for him, but I¡¯m going to get justice for them one way or another.¡±

    Claudius¡¯ special perspective was going to be badly needed. He didn¡¯t trust those police detectives to correctly deduce the real culprit behind the murder. Claudius had put together a list of his prime suspects. Though simple in nature, it was a good starting point. He had managed to assemble the names and years of every member of the shooting society, as well as award-winning competitors like Maria Walston-Carter and Adrian Roderro. He could begin to eliminate the suspects one by one as evidence came to light through his investigation. With a campus occupied by a thousand plus students and staff members, eye-witness testimony would be essential.

    Even if a lot of those people wanted nothing to do with him.

    Claudius had a fairly negative reputation for nagging people about gossip and rumours. While they were happy to indulge in that with friends, a stranger from the first year did not have the social capital to do so without charge. One of them accused Claudius of trying to claim Maria as a romantic partner while tracking her movements. He was offended by the suggestion; it was all for the purpose of protecting people from her wicked ways!

    ¡°The police detectives are going to figure it out before you do,¡± Max concluded, ¡°They¡¯ve got all that fancy equipment, and people are actually willing to speak with them about the day of the crime.¡± He knew exactly how to rile Claude up with snide comments like that. Claude brushed it off and continued to jot down notes in his book for later.

    ¡°I heard that Prier was shot using a gun. That means that the culprit must know how to use one.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Isn¡¯t it just as easy as pointing it and pulling the trigger?¡±

    ¡°Not so, Max. Even at close ranges, an inexperienced shooter is more likely to miss than hit their target. If the gun wasn¡¯t loaded, it would also take them some time to discover how the mechanism works. These factors reduce the likelihood of an uninitiated person killing him. They had to be in the greenhouse at the time ¨C so the pressure to shoot before he could escape or fight back would be high.¡± Max curled his brow at the reasonable path that Claude was taking. It was almost enough to make him forget the hundreds of other insane theories he had posited over the years.

    ¡°So, who¡¯s your prime suspect?¡±

    ¡°The best shooters in the school are Maria, Adrian, the members of the shooting society, and some of the faculty members. I haven¡¯t been able to put together a definitive list of which teachers participate though.¡±

    ¡°How did you find out that he was shot?¡± Talia asked under her breath.

    ¡°One of the other students overheard a detective talking about it.¡±

    ¡°And what if he wasn¡¯t shot?¡±

    Claude hummed, ¡°I¡¯ll just have to change my theory. That¡¯s what a good detective does.¡±

    A good detective wouldn¡¯t be relying on an overheard whisper from an unreliable source for the basis of their case, but the rest of the gang knew that trying to argue with him was a waste of breath. Claudius was going to follow through with it no matter what they said to him. There was no harm as long as they weren¡¯t dragged along to help.

    Talia sought to change the subject, ¡°Anyway ¨C Beatrice is putting together a ball and she said I could invite a few friends. Would you like to come with, Samantha?¡±

    Samantha¡¯s face lit up, ¡°A ball? That sounds interesting. I¡¯ve been to dances and harvest festivals, but never a ball.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re interesting the first time you go. There¡¯s food, dresses, and dancing. The hardest part is making conversation with people you don¡¯t like.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d love to.¡±

    ¡°Great! It¡¯s always better with friends. Make sure you have a nice dress to wear. I¡¯d lend you one of mine, but you¡¯re... a little too large to fit into them.¡±

    Max laughed, ¡°That¡¯s rude.¡±

    ¡°Not what I meant!¡± Talia scowled.

 Chapter 25

    Classes were suspended for the rest of the week while the headmaster attempted to settle on a course of action. The police wanted space from the leering eyes of the student body, so the cordon was extended to a large section of the gardens which we were now forbidden from passing through. I could not conceptualise a means by which they could discover my identity. I had been very careful to pick my moment where foot traffic was non-existent, it was also a sunny, dry day which meant there was no residue left on my shoes or any footprints leading up to the greenhouse door.

    There was an adage that I liked to stick to; always do things right the first time around. Second chances weren¡¯t handed out willy-nilly ¨C a single misstep could unravel an entire scheme in one go. Every morning I would go through the same routine to make sure that I left no evidence in my wake. I would clip my nails, comb my hair until the loose strands were removed, and thoroughly wash every nook and cranny of my body. My clothes were treated to the same meticulous process. Every stray fibre and piece of dirt would be removed before I could consider wearing them. Even with Prier bleeding onto the floor instead of me and my clothes, I still cleaned them until it risked making my fingers split.

    In a world where DNA evidence was not yet widespread or understood, those risks were minimised to a certain extent. But breaking from the routine would lead to sloppy behaviour should that advancement be brought to bear. Two connective pieces of evidence could bring everything crashing down. You did not want the police connecting dots with your name and face in mind.

    The only thing people wanted to talk about was Prier¡¯s death. The police were forced to come out and issue a statement to the press about what had happened and how they were searching for the killer. Otherwise, they ran the risk of having a rogue member leak the details. With the narrative set a sense of panic started to spread as many students wondered who was next on the hit list. Worst of all was Felipe ¨C who had recused himself from most social activities out of fear for his life.

    That served my purposes just fine. I wasn¡¯t intending to act as his guardian angel, but I got the feeling that I was going to be dragged into his orbit whether I wanted to be or not. I had originally intended to have a brief discussion with him in the yard and was almost shot for the offence. There would be more of them coming no matter what I did, and they were going to threaten me and Felipe all the same. If I were a nicer person I would have chosen to do it out of some misplaced intent to redeem myself for sins past, but I had abandoned any thoughts of a karmic redemption years ago.

    Because there were no lessons I didn¡¯t know what to do with myself. I had already made all of the preparations I could. The lesson periods dominated so much of the day that I never worried about being bored or unoccupied. The lonesome figure that I had projected to others was backfiring in spectacular fashion. My old standby of consuming a bunch of visual novels was not possible in a world without computers. The fiction section of the study was light on quantity as well. I feared what would happen once I worked my way through the entire shelf.

    On the third day of lockdown, I had a guest in the library with me. Samantha had not veiled her intentions very well. Since the confrontation on the steps, she had been keeping a close eye on me. It hadn¡¯t crossed the boundary into active stalking just yet, but if she happened upon me while I was doing something, she would stop and stare for a while. I glanced up over the rim of the book I was reading. Samantha quickly ducked behind the dictionary that she had grabbed at random to try and conceal herself.

    Samantha certainly was persistent.

    Adrian was meant to be the one Samantha had to ¡®fix,¡¯ that was the archetype that he fit for people who found that appealing. Somehow that generous spirit had been transferred over to me. She believed wholeheartedly that there was a deeper meaning behind my self-imposed seclusion. With enough time and effort, surely, she could break down the wall of ice that surrounded me. How idealistic, how droll. The author was not plumbing the depths of the idea well when creating her.

    I didn¡¯t particularly mind her staring. I was used to handling the pressure, both from my experiences before and after my rebirth. People would always stare at me no matter where I went, and you needed to project confidence when you were entering somewhere you weren¡¯t supposed to be. I was the one having the most fun in the end. I¡¯d glance up occasionally just to make her jump and hide.

    The cat-and-mouse game had to end eventually. I finished reading yet another book and stood from my seat, passing by the table that Samantha was using to return it to its proper place on the shelf behind her. When I turned back she was doing her best to resist the temptation to swivel around and follow me.

    I stopped at the side of the table and peered into the open pages; ¡°Are you enjoying that dictionary, Samantha?¡±

    Her eyes darted in every direction, ¡°You know me ¨C just brushing up on my vocabulary!¡±

    We both knew how unconvincing that line was. Samantha closed it and put on her best, prize-winning smile to try and distract me. Perhaps in her mind having me speak to her unprompted was progress in her attempts to win me over. Things went off the rails almost immediately as she opened her mouth but found herself without the words to say. The sweat starting to form on her forehead intensified when I asked my next question.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Is there any particular reason why you keep following me? I would have thought that a busy girl like you had better things to do with her time, and I¡¯m not the most stimulating person to observe besides.¡±

    She shook her head in a flurry of blonde locks, ¡°I¡¯m not following you. We just happen to run into each other every so often.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t find your excuses becoming, Samantha. You and I both know what is happening here. Or do you wish to experience my faint admonishment for a second time?¡±

    Samantha finally got a little serious; ¡°I never said I enjoyed the way you treated me back then. You¡¯re rather rude for a girl that everyone loves to fawn over.¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°I never asked them to do so. If they were to know me better, they would learn to feel the same way. I wouldn¡¯t be so popular then, would I?¡±

    ¡°Why would you...¡±

    Samantha paused as she considered what I said. A lightbulb turned on in her brain as she remembered that she was projecting her own thoughts and experiences onto me. She had been acting under the presumption that I was just like every over egotist in the academy, the ones who preened so happily like peacocks. I didn¡¯t care about my reputation as long as it continued serving me as camouflage.

    ¡°...Did you say those things to me on purpose?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Maybe I did. But the intent was the same. I think you¡¯ll be much happier keeping your distance from me.¡±

    Samantha crossed her arms, ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do about that if you keep acting so coldly.¡±

    ¡°I meant physical distance,¡± I quipped, ¡°You¡¯ve been trailing me for two weeks now. As I said, you would find yourself in much healthier company if you spent more time with your friends.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be your enemy.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good because you¡¯re not.¡±

    Samantha was thrown off for a different set of reasons than before. From afar she saw me as an idealised noble girl, a delicate doll that would fall apart under pressure. But when I spoke to her directly like this she could sense an overpowering presence and confidence hidden beneath the surface, this was the real Maria Walston-Carter - the one that did not bow to expectation. Samantha was unsure as to what the best approach to speaking with me was.

    ¡°Are you going to Beatrice¡¯s ball?¡± she asked.

    I nodded, ¡°Yes. I will be attending.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s surprising. I would have thought that you have little time or patience for something like that.¡±

    ¡°It would be rude to turn down an invitation. I have been to many balls before.¡±

    ¡°This will be my first.¡±

    ¡°Then do not expect too much. They are a rather mundane affair once you look past the expensive dresses and food. There will be many shaken hands and scant pleasantries shared between men who cannot stand the sight of each other.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s mind was elsewhere, ¡°I¡¯d love to see you in a dress, Maria.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    She blushed as she attempted to elaborate, ¡°I think that you¡¯re beautiful. If there¡¯s anything that everyone can agree on appreciating, it¡¯s something beautiful. It¡¯s like when I wake up in the morning and see the sun rising over the farm and all the hills that surround it.¡±

    She loved using that line in the game too.

    It was a flag that launched her into one of the big romance subplots. Something rather profound coming from the lips of a country girl who people treated with disdain. How that kind of talk worked on winning over Adrian of all people was another mystery altogether. That boy wouldn¡¯t know beauty if it hit him with a brick.

    ¡°I will do my best not to disappoint, then.¡±

    Samantha had turned bright red in the pause between her explanation and my response. It was embarrassing to say out loud, even more so when faced with Maria Walston-Carter. I put her out of her misery by curtseying and taking my leave of the room so that she could regret it in peace.

    ¡°Samantha, what am I going to do with you?¡± I muttered to myself.

    <hr>

    ¡°I do hope that you¡¯re taking our security arrangements very seriously,¡± Geoffrey Booker barked at several of his house servants. The heavy-set man had called the organisers of his upcoming ball into a sudden meeting to make sure that everything was going as planned. The news coming from the campus was serious and grave in equal measure. The last thing he wanted was for a rapscallion to kill someone on his property as well!

    ¡°Yes Sir. We¡¯ve decided to tighten security further on the evening of the event. We¡¯ve put forward several different names to guard the premises at that time,¡± the head servant, Michael, explained. Several applications had slipped through the chain until they reached his ears.

    ¡°Have you selected from them yet?¡± Geoffrey inquired.

    ¡°Nay. We were hoping to receive your affirmation of our choices.¡±

    Michael placed several of the pages down in front of his employer. On them were the names, profiles, backgrounds and pictures of the men and women who had applied to take on the job. Geoffrey was a liberal boss. He usually entrusted the fine details to his staff members, though for a matter this important he always wanted to have the final say. He perused the applications with a firm brow.

    He read some of their names; ¡°Wesley Franklin, Ode Freeman, Kirk Grantpark.¡± They were all experienced in both combat and security, defending businesses from thieves and protecting the rich and powerful. One of the men caught his eye in particular thanks to his extensive work history, ¡°Eidos Bolte? What a curious gentleman.¡±

    ¡°His resume is very impressive.¡±

    ¡°It is! And you¡¯ve ensured that his background is spotless?¡±

    ¡°He is listed in the mage registry as a grade three, and his other references refer to him as a consummate professional. I do not foresee any problems with picking him.¡±

    Geoffrey was a quick decision-maker. He separated four documents from the pile, including Eidos¡¯, and pointed to them with a decisive harrumph.

    ¡°These four will do. They can complement the other guards that we¡¯re bringing in.¡±

    Michael offered no debate for his choices. Once his mind was set on something, there was no changing it. The four successful applicants would be invited onto the estate, given a tour of the grounds and their assigned posts, and then fitted for appropriate uniforms to make them blend in with the rest of the waiting hands who would be working at the ball. Now that the matter was settled ¨C they could finish their preparations.

    Geoffrey moved right along to the next (and his favourite) subject; ¡°Now! About the buffet...¡±

 Chapter 26

    Beatrice and her Father were better at damage control than the police were. All it took to take the student body¡¯s mind off of the grisly murder that had occurred in the gardens was to promise a grand ball almost immediately afterwards. Everybody was excited to show off their most expensive clothes and chatter the night away in a gaggle of talking heads. More than anything it presented a chance for the cream of the crop to cement their position on top of the proverbial food chain.

    I already knew how this was going to go. Everyone had done their bit to turn me into an almost mythical figure among the academy¡¯s students. The ice-cold noble with the ruby eyes and onyx-black hair, the girl who went around the country winning shooting competitions, the one who was simply too good to bother with having a circle of friends. What I chose to wear did not matter. I could walk into that hall wearing a plastic bag and they¡¯d find a way to praise it as daring and innovative.

    I liked to look good ¨C so I wasn¡¯t going to half-ass my big ball debut. I was not spoilt for choice, as my luggage had been filled with items that were more essential than dresses and gowns. Black and red were the colours of the day. Comparing them, I decided that the black dress was a little too morbid for the atmosphere of a ball, so I went with the red one.

    But a dress did not a lady-in-waiting make. I already had some matching shoes to go with it, and I¡¯d long ago learned how to apply makeup as well. Once everything was in place, I stood before the mirror and took a moment to reckon with the figure that stood reflected in front of me. A doe-faced teenager with curly black hair, wearing a frilly red dress that would only be considered fashionable one hundred years before my time.

    Well, at least it wasn¡¯t the most embarrassing thing I had ever worn.

    It helped that Maria Walston-Carter was expected to wear something like this. If I was still in my old body, that would have elicited a very different reaction. The hem of the skirt was high enough that I couldn¡¯t safely bring my gun with me without running the risk of something seeing it. You just never know what¡¯s going to happen when you¡¯re around other people. A simple slip and fall could be extremely untimely when hiding something against your thigh.

    I had reached out to my Father once again and procured the family carriage for the trip to Beatrice¡¯s estate. Many of the wealthier students would be doing the same, resulting in a calamitous traffic jam down the full length of the main driveway. It was only by the grace of the Headmaster that they had permission to enter the grounds, as it served as a convenient distraction from the whole murder issue. The parents would have a thing or two to say at the next meeting regardless of what he tried.

    Beatrice invited most of the first-year students to come along. The addition of my name to the roster had encouraged several fence-sitters to accept invitations in the hopes of sucking up to me. As I perched at the top of the main stairs and looked out onto the sun-drenched cobbles, the full scale of the mess that she had unleashed came into sharp focus.

    There were dozens and dozens of carriages waiting for their turn to leave the grounds. I sighed and descended the stairs, heading out to where my carriage was parked and waiting. It was just me and the driver this time around; of whom I was not familiar with. They rotated in and out depending on who was willing to employ them.

    It was a relatively short journey through the hills to reach the Booker estate. The Walston-Carter compound was large enough already, but the Bookers were very auspicious and wanted to show it. Their mansion was easily twice the size of our own, and the gardens were far beyond the maintenance capabilities of a single person. I hopped down from the carriage and took a moment to scout the exterior of the building. A large balcony covered the second of three floors. There were tall windows covering every side, but I had been led to believe that the actual hall where the event was being held was towards the back side, which faced a steep downward slope. That would make it harder for a sniper to shoot through them and hit somebody.

    I made sure to get a clear view of all of the points of interest. The main lobby was similar to my home ¨C with a large staircase in the centre that split outwards into two different wings. A pair of double doors beneath each branch allowed entry to the bowels of the building where the staff would navigate and sometimes sleep if the owner desired them to be on-site. With all of the money in the world, the big families would still chase the same trends in design and construction. Almost every house I¡¯d visited sported a similar layout. It did make things easier for me knowing that they were following the same rulebook.

    The main difference was the size of each room. Smaller manors would open up the lounges to their guests so that they could get away from the crowds and have a private discussion. The Bookers had no need to do such a thing, though they would surely allow us to do so if we asked. The manor had been decorated appropriately to welcome the students and their parents. Colourful bunting and flaming torches were used to give off a festival-like atmosphere outside, while the interior was meticulously cleaned and presented. Every room was decked out with lavish wooden furniture and golden trim that reflected light everywhere.

    We were directed towards the dance hall at the back left of the building. It was a large, rectangular room used for these kinds of engagements, and you¡¯d find them in almost every manor built in the last two hundred years. When not in use, they made for extremely impractical and overly large sitting rooms which were never chosen over the much better-designed lounges that every home came with four or five of. There were around one-hundred guests in total, consisting primarily of the students from our year who could be bothered to come, Beatrice¡¯s actual friends from her year, and some of their parents who wanted to glad-hand with one of the richest families in the country.

    Even though I was dedicating all of my focus to learning the layout of the manor for later, it was impossible not to notice how everyone kept staring at me. That was nothing new ¨C but now that I¡¯d dressed myself up in some more feminine, they couldn¡¯t contain their adoration for my supposed beauty. Red was an unusual colour to use for a ball gown, as I had learned during my very first event. The fashion of the day was yellow, white, pearl or blue. I found that red complimented my dark hair better than those shades did. I don¡¯t know why I was so hung up on how I looked. It was in character for a noble lady to care about her appearance, but this felt more personal than just doing it to fit in.

    I weaved my way through the crowd that had gathered by the main entrance and continued my inspection of the operation area. The Booker patriarch had spared no expense in making sure that the security was ironclad. Several armed guards had caught my eye before I even entered the main hall, and there were four unarmed men who were standing around and looking tough inside as well.

    It would be easy to pass it off as a precaution after what happened at the academy, but whether Beatrice had told her father about the attempt on Felipe¡¯s life was still unknown. One of them was in the unenviable position of watching the drinks table so that the students wouldn¡¯t steal some of the alcohol and start trouble.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    The hall boasted two entrances, one which was for the guests and another on the other side that was being used by the staff members to restock the buffet table that had been placed against the right wall. A live band was already filling the room with the dulcet tones of classical music, but nobody had yet dared venture onto the floor as the inaugural experiment.

    My first priority was getting my eyes on Felipe. This type of environment would be attractive to an idiot, with plenty of noise and potential witnesses to mask their amazing assassination. It was unlikely that a second killer could escape from this place without being caught, but that didn¡¯t mean that they couldn¡¯t charge Felipe and do the job before that happened.

    This was going to be challenging, not only did I have to worry about Felipe being stabbed or shot by an interloper, but there was a grand game playing out right in front of me. It was the most vicious, cruel and sadistic of all social contracts. To submerge oneself into the churning waters of noble pleasantries was to become something akin to a military leader. The battle lines would be drawn, some based on pre-existing friend circles from the academy, while others would generate spontaneously to provide strength in numbers. The weapons of war were not fired from the end of a gun, but with tongue and titter. Who needed a knife when you could insult someone¡¯s fashion sense behind their back?

    For all the talk about this being a fun getaway for the first years to get acquainted, the reality was that these events were primarily hosted to grease the wheels. Business deals, marriages, and hostile takeovers; they were the ultimate objective. The heavily biased guest list would not prevent this. The mere fact that some of the parents decided to come with their children was evidence enough. They¡¯d filter out to one of the lounges and start doing their usual routine soon enough.

    Business marriages were nothing unusual. It was the most common reason why someone my age would be betrothed. Unlike in my old world, Love Revolution had an interesting piece of lore that stated that while patrilineal marriages were preferred, it was also acceptable for non-inheriting children to marry matrilineally. That served as an excuse to have some of the negative characters change their name to match Samantha¡¯s and ¡®escape¡¯ the chains of family.

    Beatrice and Felipe seemed rather taken with one another. They finally emerged from the staff door to polite applause from those who spotted them. Beatrice was relishing the attention but her other half could not hide how nervous he felt about being surrounded by so many people so soon. When his eyes landed on me, the sense of relief was visible on his face. I had underestimated just how badly the sniper attack affected him emotionally. I was used to getting shot at, but these kids had the good fortune not to have similar experiences.

    ¡°Thank you for coming, everyone!¡± Beatrice announced. It was difficult to hear her over so many voices. She walked up and down, shaking hands and greeting guests like a practiced hostess. Felipe stuck close to her but didn¡¯t have much to say. When the pair finally reached me, Beatrice had nothing but praise to share for my choice of dress.

    ¡°You look wonderful, Maria! It suits you perfectly, and I love your hair!¡±

    I bowed my head, ¡°Thank you. This is a lovely home, it¡¯s an honour to be invited.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to be so formal with us. Felipe told me that you¡¯re one of the brightest from the magic class this year.¡±

    Felipe nudged her shoulder, ¡°Don¡¯t tell her that.¡±

    Beatrice laughed, ¡°He¡¯s so shy about this kind of thing.¡±

    Her dress was similar to mine. A plunging neckline revealed the top of her chest and shoulders, with the main band wrapping around the chest and zipping up from behind. It was accented with lace and frills in a slightly lighter shade of blue than the body beneath. The multiple ruffled tiers spilled outwards from her waist and dangled below the knee, which was the main difference; I¡¯d intentionally chosen a shorter dress when shopping for them with my Father a few months ago.

    If something bad were to happen it would allow me an increased degree of mobility, with the trade-off being an increased risk of someone seeing my bare legs. Some of the boys would be disappointed to find that most dresses came with privacy-conscious designs that concealed the lady¡¯s underwear from sight.

    There was a colourful display of different gowns on offer for the aspiring fashionista. They came in all shapes and sizes, some slim and modern in form factor, or going all-out on curls and frills. But just as I predicted, I was the only one I could see wearing red. It was not helping me blend into the crowd.

    Returning my focus to the young couple, I gave Felipe a knowing look to try and assure him that I was on his side. He cracked a small smile and put his hand on Beatrice¡¯s shoulder, ¡°We should go greet the rest of the attendees. Come find us and have a chat later, we¡¯d love to speak with you.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    Beatrice gave me a small wave before being swallowed up by the crowd once more. I sighed and stayed on the far edge of the room where less of the footfall was concentrated. I could move back and forth by the table and keep an eye on them from a distance, but sticking close would be the best way to protect Felipe from any attempted assassinations.

    There were other familiar faces floating to and fro, including Samantha and her gang and some of the girls who had tried to ingratiate themselves with me earlier. For whatever reason Claudius had accepted an invitation to come too. He wouldn¡¯t bother with a noble engagement like this without a motivating reason. Since it was him - it had to be related to a ¡®mystery¡¯ he was trying to crack.

    If a killer were lurking in the manor, they would not be amongst the students. My initial concerns about Adrian and the shooting club members were unfounded. Whoever wanted Felipe dead had paid an outside group to execute the contract. Prier just so happened to have the credentials and position to try and kill him on the campus grounds. It was a modus operandi that I could follow to the next conclusion. The second person was going to try and get a job in the manor because the ball was no secret to people with working eyes and ears. Beatrice¡¯s father had splashed a lot of money on extra hands for the catering, music and security. Who was to say that the violinist wasn¡¯t hiding a gun in her dress?

    If I had to pick a group that was easy to infiltrate, the security guards would be first on the list. I¡¯d been memorising their faces and behaviour since the moment I stepped onto the property. They were all assigned an affectionate nickname. There were the likes of Twitchy, Baldy, Curly, Beardy and Lanky. Twitchy couldn¡¯t stay in place without flinching like an over-tuned neurotic mess. My eyes kept getting drawn to him as he¡¯d move suddenly or start pacing back and forth by the window opposite. It was immensely distracting.

    Before I could cross the room and get a closer look, someone bumped into me from behind.

    ¡°Hey! Why don¡¯t you watch where you¡¯re going!¡±

    That growl was unmistakable. Adrian Rederro had walked straight into me, and in his usual manner, blamed the victim for his ignorance. The complaining came to a sudden and sharp end as he discovered who he had started berating out of the blue.

    ¡°I see that your manners are not improved even when forced into a suit.¡±

    ¡°Why the hell did Beatrice invite you to this party?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re friends. Felipe was the one who extended the invitation to me.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have any friends,¡± he observed.

    ¡°Believe what you please. Does my presence here not provide the proof you need?¡±

    Adrian was bitter, ¡°You probably threatened to do something horrible. That¡¯s how you always get your way.¡±

    I had no idea what he was talking about but it wasn¡¯t worth the time to argue or procure examples of what exactly I had done that was so terrible. Adrian was a sore, sore loser. That was true whether he was dealing with Samantha or me. He was the designated bad boy of the cast, having a similar arc to Theodore but without the charm or sympathy-earning vulnerability. He was abrasive and irritating but sported a legion of dedicated fans.

    I had my fill of Adrian for the evening and we¡¯d only been talking for a few seconds. I rolled my eyes at him and returned to what I was doing before he could drag me down to his level with more inane bickering. The abruptness of my disengagement left him standing there with his mouth open.

    It was time to assassin-proof the ball.

 Chapter 27

    Samantha was not prepared for such a display of avarice and splendour when she agreed to attend her first ball. Her farmhouse was much larger than the homes you would find in the city, but the Booker¡¯s mansion put it to shame in terms of scale. It was gigantic, capable of housing dozens of separate families comfortably, yet it was dedicated to only one. Then there was the finely detailed interior, expensive furnishings, and the individual preparations that had been made solely for the purpose of the party she now attended. It boggled her mind to imagine how much had been spent on it.

    Samantha made the right call in putting on her finest dress. Even then, she felt somewhat undressed in comparison to the flashy and modern designs that some of the other girls were so eager to show off in a display of social superiority. She stuck close to Max and Claude as they escorted her to a quieter area away from the chaos on the central floor. Max was their designated guide for the evening, as the only one from the trio who¡¯d been to balls in the past.

    Max adjusted his bow tie and cast a curious glance at Claude, who was anxiously hovering by his side and watching the crowd as they jostled for position in the grand hall. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you decided to come with us. I told you that it wasn¡¯t going to be anything exciting. They host balls like this every other week.¡±

    Claude smirked and tapped his temple; ¡°Naturally, wherever my prime suspect goes I must follow. You never know when she¡¯ll choose to strike again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think that you have a crush on her,¡± Max chuckled.

    ¡°I do not!¡± Claudius snapped back with rose-tinted cheeks. He wouldn¡¯t be alone if that was really the case. Most of the boys in his year found her attractive from afar, though her prickly personality was bound to complicate matters if one were to try and approach her. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be paying more attention to the girl you brought with you?¡± he shot back.

    ¡°Samantha isn¡¯t my date. I¡¯m just escorting her for the evening.¡±

    ¡°Yeah ¨C in other words, a date.¡±

    Samantha was completely tuned out of the conversation, which brought great relief to both young men who had entered a state of mutually assured destruction through their argument. She smiled at both of them and clasped her hands together, ¡°This hall is amazing. I¡¯ve seen similar rooms in books before, but it¡¯s even more dazzling in person.¡±

    Max exhaled, ¡°I remember when I used to feel the same way before I had to attend dozens of these things for the sake of my Father.¡±

    ¡°Oh, do you dislike them?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that I dislike them. They become routine if you are invited to too many. My singular hope is that the food is good.¡±

    Claude nodded, ¡°And we get some in-party entertainment, like some of the girls getting into a tussle on the dance floor.¡±

    Samantha tilted her head, ¡°Does that happen often?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised.¡±

    Max wracked his brain for an illustrative example. One of the girls on the periphery of the main huddle provided it for him. ¡°That girl there, her name is Gertrude Farhan. Two years ago, she got into a real fight with Caroline Bohn because she insulted her fianc¨¦. They were on the floor, punching, kicking, and when they came back up she walked away with a black eye while Caroline had a bloody nose.¡±

    ¡°Wow.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what happens when there¡¯s so much money and power on the line. Even the nobles our age get wrapped up in trying to come out on top. It¡¯s still pretty unusual for things to devolve into fisticuffs though.¡±

    That was news to Samantha, whose country-girl upbringing had insulated her from the reality of what the noble class was really like. Her experiences in the school, and now here at the ball had demonstrated that they could be just as impulsive, petty or rage-fuelled as someone without their wealth. Maria was the only girl who lined up with those assumptions, and even she was exceptional in a way that the others were not. To be the storybook noble demanded a level of isolation that no others were willing to endure.

    At least she could appreciate the lovely dresses that the girls were wearing without having to worry about that kind of thing. Samantha verbalised her awe with a series of strange, high-pitched noises as they walked past. The colours were so vibrant and the stitching so finely placed. It was a veritable gallery of different styles in almost every shade and colour. Frills seemed to be the current trend, with big skirts and shoulders being common features.

    Max nudged her, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about feeling out of place. I think your dress is nice too.¡±

    ¡°Not a date, he says...¡± Claude grumbled.

    Samantha couldn¡¯t ignore the flash of ruby red that lay on the periphery of her vision. The girl wearing such a bold dress was unmistakable. It was Maria ¨C standing alone with an empty radius around her that gave off the impression of some kind of magical force field. It was almost enough to make her heart skip a beat. The combination of tasteful dress and understated makeup only enhanced her natural beauty, nothing at all like Samantha¡¯s sun-touched skin and sharp features. Most of the male eyes in the room were laser-focused on her.

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    ¡°Jeeze, You¡¯d think that Maria was hosting this thing with how everyone is treating her,¡± Max commented, ¡°Too perfect to speak with, or even approach.¡±

    ¡°Do you know much about her?¡± Samantha inquired.

    ¡°Not much, just the usual sensationalist rumours you hear from the other students. I have to admit that she lived up to most of them. My Father talked about dealing with her family a few times in the past but I was never listening too closely. It didn¡¯t seem important at the time.¡±

    Claude smirked, ¡°If you need to know anything about her I¡¯m the man to ask. Call me a Maria historian, if you will.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not calling you that, Claude. Are you sure that all of this information is even legitimate? I know you too well to believe anything you tell me without question.¡±

    Claude nodded, ¡°Trust me ¨C I¡¯ve gone above and beyond to make sure that everything I learned was one-hundred percent verifiable. I¡¯m taking this very seriously.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be easier to speak with her in person and ask?¡± Samantha suggested.

    ¡°Does she strike you as the kind of girl to tell you that kind of personal stuff?¡± Max said.

    ¡°It¡¯s much more reliable than listening to rumours,¡± Samantha observed, ¡°If she¡¯s so unwilling to speak with others, where did those claims even come from in the first place?¡±

    Claude interjected, ¡°As I said, I separated the wheat from the chaff. Maria¡¯s been around so there are a lot of people who know who she is and have experience with her. I¡¯ve got stories from shooting competitions, balls, and even from the academy.¡±

    Maxwell was pleasantly surprised at how reasonable Claude was sounding. He was the sort to unflinchingly believe anything as long as it supported the conclusion that his gut wanted to go with. Evidence could be bent and moulded to fit his needs, but his theories were much less malleable.

    ¡°On the shooting thing, a lot of people didn¡¯t believe it at first, but Maria¡¯s been an unstoppable monster in every competition she¡¯s entered. She¡¯s won trophies from here to the north coast, at every level of skill. Guess where Adrian¡¯s animosity for her came from? She¡¯s been showing him up for years now.¡±

    Samantha was immediately interested in what he had to say, ¡°Shooting. A strange hobby for a noble girl.¡±

    ¡°Correct. In fact, she¡¯s one of the only women who participates in those competitions; and she¡¯s definitely the youngest. There were a lot of accusations thrown around that she was bribing them to let her win. They had a lot to say about that, and the organisers couldn¡¯t find any evidence that it was true.¡±

    Claude continued to explore some of the stories he¡¯d heard about Maria while Samantha and Max listened carefully. A lot of it was nothing that they couldn¡¯t have figured out for themselves, but it was proof that Claude had done his homework instead of chasing down the most exciting stories to satisfy his theatrical personality. Samantha found a lot of it intriguing.

    With new information in hand, she made a firm and shocking resolution.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to speak with her.¡±

    Max tried to stop her, ¡°She¡¯s not going to want to talk with us. You could ask her suitors to line up and they¡¯d leave the hall and go out of the front door, and she doesn¡¯t have time for any of them.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t like suitors, then.¡±

    Max¡¯s mouth opened helplessly as Samantha turned and sought her out from the crowd. It was the kind of straight-to-the-point logic that she had often used like a blunt weapon against his well-reasoned warnings. Max considered himself one of the most down-to-earth members of the nobility, but Samantha still found ways to confound him with her stubbornness. He disliked it, but he couldn¡¯t decry her for it either. Samantha had her own headstrong way of doing things. They followed her as they passed several dancing couples to try and find where she had gotten to.

    ¡°She¡¯s clearly hiding from everyone,¡± Claude said, ¡°She¡¯s been loitering on the outside edge of the hall since we arrived.¡±

    ¡°Like I said ¨C not interested in talking,¡± Max repeated in vain.

    Samantha¡¯s persistence paid off in due order as they spotted her through a gap in the crowd. She locked on and charged forth like a proud member of the Walserian cavalry. Maria was taken aback as the much taller girl hounded her down and initiated a conversation.

    ¡°Hello, Maria!¡±

    Maria didn¡¯t smile very often unless it was through enjoying someone¡¯s misfortune, but even now she seemed chillier than usual. Samantha had to suppress a shiver from running through her body as her red eyes focused on her face.

    ¡°Samantha.¡±

    Claude and Max finally caught up ¨C but they could sense that Maria was in no mood for idle chatter at the moment. It did make them wonder why she had accepted Beatrice¡¯s invitation in the first place. Would it have not been more to her taste to avoid the crowds and refuse?

    ¡°Are you enjoying the party?¡± Samantha ventured. Maria¡¯s attention was aimed elsewhere, but Samantha couldn¡¯t figure out what she was looking at out of the corner of her eye. The only thing that remained between them and the exterior window was one of the people standing guard.

    ¡°It is about what I expected. You should enjoy yourself. You will only attend one of these balls for the first time once.¡±

    ¡°I was hoping that we could add you to our group,¡± Samantha smiled.

    Maria¡¯s response was curt, ¡°Apologies, but I have no interest in such an arrangement.¡±

    ¡°Ah. That¡¯s okay. I just wanted to compliment your dress. It¡¯s very nice.¡±

    Samantha couldn¡¯t hide the disappointment she felt at being rejected so quickly. She knew it was coming before she even asked, but it still stung. Getting along with Maria wasn¡¯t going to be as simple as asking her time and time again. She needed a new approach that got to the heart of the matter.

    ¡°Thank you. You look good as well, Samantha. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me.¡±

    Maria left without a word, leaving Samantha and her friends in the dust. Max patted her on the shoulder in a poor attempt at consolation, ¡°I told you. If Maria is lonesome normally, this kind of event is sure to put her in an even fouler mood than normal.¡±

    Samantha contested his characterisation, ¡°She was being polite. I don¡¯t see any reason why I can¡¯t break through that outer shell of hers.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. Claude¡¯s got a hundred tales about people being turned down for everything from group projects to marriage proposals. Isn¡¯t that right?¡± Max turned to see that Claude had mysteriously disappeared from sight as well. He cranked his neck left and right to try and relocate him with no luck. ¡°Where the hell did Claude run off to?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see him leave.¡±

    Max slicked back his hair and sighed in exasperation, ¡°He¡¯s probably trying to gather more dirt on Maria. We¡¯d better enjoy the party and leave him to it. He¡¯ll hopefully keep himself out of trouble.¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t certain that leaving him to his own devices was the correct course of action ¨C but finding him again would be almost impossible with how large and busy the manor was at this point. There¡¯d surely be another story added to the annals of Maria¡¯s legend soon, one where Claude had overstepped her boundaries and walked back with a red slap mark on one of his cheeks.

    On the other hand, the food on the buffet table looked delicious and she didn¡¯t want to miss out.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get something to eat,¡± she concluded.

    ¡°Yeah, sounds good to me.¡±

    He''d be fine - hopefully.

 Chapter 28

    Floating from room to room allowed me to keep a close eye on the staff as they worked to attend to the party¡¯s guests. I couldn¡¯t do so without attracting attention, but it was easy enough to wave them away with a sharp glare or a lame excuse about admiring the manor and seeing the sights. For my money, there was nothing amiss with the attendants I spied on. They went about their business without doing anything to catch my ire. I would have loved to have written it off as paranoia ¨C but previous experience told me otherwise.

    There were a lot of angles on offer that an assassin could use to get at Felipe or me. I¡¯d personally avoid doing it in such a busy environment, but I couldn¡¯t project my own methods onto someone else so glibly. There were others in the same business that didn¡¯t care about protecting themselves and their identity. They¡¯d kill in broad daylight or around other people, knowing full well that they were putting themselves at risk. They never lasted long. The police would find DNA evidence at the scene, or an eyewitness to pin the blame on them, or they¡¯d simply accept a contract from an undercover police officer and walk away in cuffs before getting that far.

    Poison wasn¡¯t a good call. A manor like this had very strict food handling policies, and the chaperones at each table weren¡¯t just there to keep the teenagers away from alcohol. A tester would make sure that every batch of food was uncontaminated by putting their own health at risk. It paid well enough for them to take that leap of faith and provide for their families. My Father employed one too, though some families preferred to have the chef take that responsibility.

    A gunshot would be easy to hear even over the noise in the main hall. The sharp crack of a gun firing would cut through it like a knife and alert everyone to what was going on. Not to mention that the main floor was on an elevated piece of ground. You couldn¡¯t fire from the inside in and there was no elevation built into the structure itself. That left them with one practical option, to get their hands dirty, isolate the target and do it up close. Even that would pose some serious difficulties.

    Felipe was rightly fearful of any more attempts on his life. He wasn¡¯t going to go anywhere in the manor without someone escorting him, and certainly not at the behest of someone he didn¡¯t trust. He and Beatrice were glued together at the hip. How could the killer pry them apart and get him into a good location? If I could figure that out, I could position myself to keep an eye on a chokepoint so nobody could follow him. My first thought was the bathroom. In terms of footfall over the evening - that would be the place where the best opportunity would arise. Beatrice was unlikely to come with and the corridors would be mostly empty of other people.

    I put myself into the killer¡¯s shoes again. Grab him, drag him into a room that I have access to and kill him quietly by covering his mouth. Leave the body and get out of dodge before somebody finds it. Trying to hide or move it was asking to get caught. I¡¯d want free roam of the building to make it happen. The best way to get that would be to be employed within it. It was a trick I¡¯d used dozens of times over the years, from small businesses to large office complexes. The reason I was so focused on the security guards was because they were the newest hires. They¡¯d been brought in as a reaction to what happened on the campus. It was the perfect place to slip in.

    But I couldn¡¯t discount the possibility that my target had accepted a different position. While many of the servants in a noble house would remain there for decades at a time, there were a small number who were hired on an ¡®as needed¡¯ basis. The servant¡¯s past work was essential to proving to the Master that you were who you claimed to be. A good reputation was what garnered the trust required to be around such important people. I now had evidence that suggested that the people trying to kill us could source that reputation and launder it through to the highest levels.

    Prier was the real deal. He held a legitimate degree from a genuine university in Biology. That was how he infiltrated the academy and posed as a teacher for so long, because he was a real teacher. A teacher who had connections to a criminal organisation of some variety, but a teacher nonetheless. In comparison to that ¨C bribing a few people to fluff up a resume was elementary. It only took one person with a need for cash to bring a supposedly secure system to its knees. Your defence is only as strong as the weakest point.

    It frustrated me to no end to broaden the terms of my search even further but there was nothing I could do about it. Prier had revealed the bare minimum about what he was trying to do, and I was assuming that a follow-up attempt on Felipe¡¯s life would soon follow. The collective assets of the Booker family were worth too much to let bygones be bygones. Every noble who tried to secure a marriage to Beatrice had the motive to try and end their engagement. It would be faster to list the families that didn¡¯t try to secure the betrothal. It came as a surprise that it wasn¡¯t salacious rumours or political strong-arming that were deployed first.

    I took a sip of my drink and continued to observe the man across the way. ¡®Baldy¡¯ was my current person of interest. He looked like the rough sort, with a shaved head, rotund body and burly constitution. His nose was crooked, a sign that he¡¯d been involved in a physical fight or two and was left with a broken face. His body language did not raise any concerns right away; he maintained a vigilant and stern stance with his eyes set straight ahead. If he was under any pressure he didn¡¯t show it.

    I must have looked like the fool standing around on my lonesome like this. The high-and-mighty queen of the first-years made lonely by her reputation and little else. Even if I hadn¡¯t done my best to scare people away, this would have happened regardless. Everyone was looking at me, praising my appearance and fine upbringing, but none were bold enough to make those statements to my face. At school that was fine by me - but here it made me stand out.

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    The table to my left rattled as a white lump leapt upwards onto it. My brain took a moment to catch up and identify it as a very fluffy and very well-groomed cat. The collar around its neck told me that it wasn¡¯t a stray that had broken into the building. I recalled Felipe mentioning something about a cat during one of our lessons together. Beatrice loved cats a whole lot, even if her Father was less than enthused with them. According to him, Beatrice would make a great mother in the future because she treated her cat like a baby. I reached out and stroked it on the head, quickly earning its undying loyalty and affection for the trouble.

    ¡°Do you want to be my escort for this party?¡± I said under my breath. The cat, obviously, didn¡¯t respond to my invitation. There were many weird and wonderful creatures that occupied this world of ours, but just as many mundane ones too. Cats, dogs, horses, translated one-for-one from my old world and used in the same manner.

    And then everybody started talking.

    ¡°Lady Maria is playing with that cat...¡±

    ¡°I never liked cats, myself.¡±

    ¡°I have a terrible allergy to them. Thank goodness the flea ball is staying there with her.¡±

    Zero to self-conscious in five seconds flat. I withdrew my hand from the purring feline and decided to move on to my next mark. Twitchy, as I had affectionately coined him, was the man who concerned me the most. He looked one scare aware from going into a nervous breakdown. He was standing by the main door into the hall which connected to the lounge. I observed him for ten minutes without seeing anything of note.

    This wasn¡¯t working. I decided to change course and focus on sticking close to Felipe instead. Finding him and Beatrice amongst the crowd was challenging. They were surrounded on all sides by fawning classmates and even some of the adults who were trying to get into their good graces for later. It would have been extremely ironic if one of those people were responsible for the assassination plot; always playing both sides of the issue to try and come out on top. I reached the core of the social jungle after much effort in making myself known to the people huddling around them. When I arrived, a boisterous nobleman was speaking of his great admiration for Beatrice¡¯s Father.

    ¡°He¡¯s a genius, of that I am entirely convinced. I make sure to follow every bit of business advice he gives and I¡¯m a richer man for it. You should listen well, Lady Beatrice, his words are not those of a man without self-reflection. There is great wisdom in them.¡±

    Beatrice went along politely with him but was not interested in the slightest about what he thought of her Father. She must have heard this same speech a hundred times from a hundred different people before. Felipe spotted me hanging on the edge of the circle and waved me over in an effort to disrupt things before she said something regretful.

    ¡°Speaking of prodigies, it looks like Lady Walston-Carter has come to join us!¡±

    The audience oo-ed and ahh-ed as I walked towards the pair and offered a curtsey to the nobleman who was dominating the conversation. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that we are not yet acquainted, sir.¡±

    He bowed to me in return, ¡°I am Pheris Sykes, your Father and I are rather familiar with each other, though this is the first time I¡¯ve been given the chance to meet his pride and joy. He was not understating your beauty or poise.¡±

    ¡°You flatter me, sir.¡±

    Same old, same old...

    ¡°He also said that you¡¯re sure-hand with a firearm. He gave me the impression that you had a towering physique,¡± he chuckled.

    ¡°It is a challenge to control an unwieldy implement like a rifle, yet that challenge is why I enjoy engaging with it as sport. My Father turned white as a sheet the first time I fell over from the recoil.¡±

    In reality, I¡¯d damn nearly smashed my head against a rock. Even with my intense training, I was still caught off-guard by how powerful the kickback was from some of the weapons these people used. Sophisticated recoil-dampening designs were not yet in widespread use. You felt every ounce of force that was shot from the other end, squaring up and keeping your body solid was essential. I stuck to competing in handgun categories until I got stronger, my Father wouldn¡¯t let me take part if I came home with a huge bruise on my shoulder every time.

    ¡°It¡¯s odd how every Father I¡¯ve met can¡¯t help but follow the whims of his daughter, though owning a cat is a world away from hunting game.¡±

    Beatrice smiled, ¡°That is an experience that only men with a daughter can attest to. We have ways of getting what we want, with honeyed words and a flutter of our eyes.¡±

    I crossed my arms and frowned, ¡°I don¡¯t beg or flutter anything.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to,¡± she shot back, ¡°You look amazing without even trying.¡±

    There was shared laughter from the surrounding socialites.

    Felipe leaned into Beatrice¡¯s ear, ¡°I¡¯m stepping away for a moment.¡±

    This was my chance. As one of the servants weaved their way through the crowd with a tray of drinks in their hand, I subtly shifted the heel of my foot into their path. They yelped as the slight disruption caused them to go off balance. I reacted, swinging around and clutching the underside of the silver tray before its contents could shatter onto the floor. If I chose to leave things there then there¡¯d be no harm. Instead, I tilted it towards me slightly, causing a thin cocktail glass to topple over and coat my arms in spilt alcohol.

    ¡°Ah, sorry.¡± The servant regained his footing and corrected the glasses before any more could be lost. They looked mortified about making such an amateur mistake, but I held up my hand and demonstrated that it was no issue. Felipe had stopped to watch the entire thing play out. Perfect ¨C exactly as I planned; ¡°Felipe, may you show me where the washroom is?

    Felipe nodded, ¡°Of course. We wouldn¡¯t want you smelling of wine for the rest of the evening. It¡¯s this way, I was just about to go as well.¡±

    I was escorted to the staff-side door as the servant in question tried to clean up the wine that had spilt onto the floor. I¡¯d succeeded in creating an effective excuse to follow him, but it was only by happenstance. I could not rely on convenient circumstances to arise the next time he decided to step away from the party.

 Chapter 29

    ¡°I¡¯m very sorry about the accident, Maria.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°There¡¯s no need to apologise. These things happen.¡±

    He laughed, ¡°I am thankful that you are so level-headed. If it was anyone else, I¡¯d never hear the end of it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to decry you over what was a simple accident,¡± I insisted.

    He frowned, ¡°I¡¯m just getting too involved with all of those rumours about you again. Even though I know you personally, it can be hard to separate yourself from the story that everyone else is trying to write about you.¡±

    Felipe led us further down the corridor, past the bustling kitchen where dozens of chefs worked to prepare the food needed to sustain so many guests. There were several other closed doors between us and the washroom. Felipe had chosen the staff washroom over the one designated for the guests out of paranoia about being attacked again. It was a wise decision. An unassuming doorway at the end of the red carpet was our final destination. I took a quick look down the way to make sure that we hadn¡¯t been followed out of the hall.

    ¡°Ladies first.¡±

    Confident that I could wash my hands of the wine in only a few seconds, I opened the door and stepped inside. It was a well-presented bathroom, complete with toilets, a bathtub and a sink. Running water was something that¡¯d only become widespread in the past few decades, with the poorest people continuing to utilise wells and groundwater to clean themselves, drink and to prepare food. I locked the door from the inside and set about the task of rinsing the wine from my arms. I was lucky that none of it landed on my dress. I shivered as the cold water ran over my bare skin. A small application of soap was enough to cover up the smell.

    Thump!

    I froze as something tugged on the door handle from the outside. Then a voice called out in the corridor, ¡°Why the hell is this door locked?¡±

    It had to be a bad joke.

    I turned the tap off and straightened myself out. I unlatched the door and pulled it open, bearing witness to a scene that I did not predict. Felipe was grappling with one of the guards, it was Lanky, and he was holding a knife in one of his hands. I acted fast and leapt into the fray. While he was busy trying to keep Felipe under control, I kicked at his hand using the tip of my shoe. He cried out in pain as I struck his fingers, causing him to drop the knife. I shuffled it away before he could reach down and grab it.

    ¡°What the-¡°

    His head snapped back as I punched him in the nose. Before he toppled over, I grabbed him by his collar and dragged him into the bathroom with me. Felipe fell to the floor and clutched his neck, coughing and hacking all the while. Lanky wasn¡¯t nearly as strong as Prier was, so I actually stood a chance of taking him on in a direct fight. Hooking my left leg behind his, I pushed him back onto the floor and slammed the door shut so that Felipe couldn¡¯t see what we were doing.

    ¡°You¡¯re that... you¡¯re the one that they warned me about!¡±

    A small trail of blood dribbled down onto his top lip. A large bruise had already started to form where I had struck him. I was in no mood for talking things over with him. The only thing I was interested in was incapacitating him as soon as possible. I dashed across the floor and flipped over him, wrapping my arms around his neck and dragging him back up to his feet. There was a frantic struggle as I wrestled him closer and closer to the sink that I had filled just moments ago. I reached up and ragged on his hair, back and then forward with as much strength as I could muster.

    His entire body folded, smashing his forehead against the porcelain sink and leaving a red mark where it cut into his skin. I applied more pressure and slid his face into the surface of the water. As the liquid started to fill his eyes and busted nose, his arms and legs tried desperately to escape from my grasp. Once I started to feel him losing strength, I pulled him back up into the air. He gasped, chest heaving, and tried to fill his lungs before I started drowning him again.

    ¡°Who hired you?¡± I whispered. He shook his head and groaned in pain. I did not entertain his stalling attempts, back down into the murky red waters he went. After another thirty seconds of feeling him twitch between my rear choke, I pulled him back out. ¡°I¡¯m serious. You¡¯re going to talk, or the last thing you¡¯re ever going to see is that water rushing up to meet you again.¡±

    I was getting overly aware of the noise that we were making. The scuffling was one thing, but combined with the sound of his leather shoes scraping against the floor and his desperate gasps for air, there was no doubt from the outside that something strange was going on. I waited patiently until he had the wherewithal to speak.

    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know who the money guy is! I promise! It was some punk called Eidos, he was the one who dragged us along for this!¡±

    ¡°How many of you?¡±

    ¡°E-Every guard, all of them are working on this...¡±

    ¡°Armed?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they have pistols.¡±

    ¡°Four versus one, with guns ¨C that almost sounds like a fair fight.¡±

    He inhaled a raspy cry and shook his head, ¡°Who are you? What the hell is this?¡±

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    ¡°Who said you got to ask questions? Take a nap.¡±

    I punctuated the end of our interview with another impact against the edge of the sink. He crumpled to the floor with two head injuries and a serious concussion. I reached down and searched through his pockets, locating a tiny, palm-sized pistol that he smuggled in through the doors. It looked like the organizer didn¡¯t trust them with anything bigger. I was going to have to take care of all of them and find out who was in charge the hard way.

    I winced as gunshots rang out from somewhere in the manor. Another quick dip into the sink failed to clean away the blood that had smudged onto my palms and fingers, but there was no time to worry about keeping up appearances now. Felipe was still outside and still in serious danger. I slid the dinky gun into my dress just in case I needed it. Cognizant of the unconscious body lying in a heap by the sink ¨C I made sure to keep the door closed behind me so that Felipe didn¡¯t notice it.

    ¡°Felipe, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°W-What happened to the other guy?¡±

    ¡°He ran away when I showed up. Someone just fired a gun.¡±

    I helped him back to his feet and scanned both directions of the hallway we were in. Some of the staff members were rushing out of the kitchen to see what was going on in the hall. Not the brightest idea to insert themselves into that situation. Another pair of gunshots could be heard, as well as screams to go along with them. This was bold. Some of them weren¡¯t expecting to show their faces around here again any time soon, or perhaps the money at play was enough to go and start a new life somewhere else.

    Felipe was clearly in shock from the attack, it was just like when we were shot at by Professor Prier. He was unsteady on his feet and his eyes were unfocused. I leaned him up against the wall and slapped his cheek a few times to clear away the fog.

    ¡°Felipe, are you still with us?¡±

    He nodded, ¡°I am. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°We need to get you someplace safe, now.¡±

    ¡°But what about the others? They¡¯re in danger.¡±

    I dragged him further down the corridor and into an alcove before someone spotted us; ¡°We both know that they¡¯re only here for you, and what good would you charging into that hall do now? They¡¯re trying to kill you. There is no trade to be made here.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t just leave them there.¡±

    ¡°And do you think you can handle it yourself? Be realistic, Felipe!¡±

    He was frustrated with the logic that I was offering him. He wanted nothing more than to charge into that room and play the conquering hero. The only thing he would receive was a swift bullet to the head. Letting him enter that hall now was essentially suicide, and I wasn¡¯t going to let him do it. His teeth clenched as he knocked his head back against the wall behind him.

    ¡°Why do you even care?¡±

    I frowned, ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve never once concerned yourself with other people, why now?¡±

    ¡°I do care ¨C we just have different ways of expressing it. You¡¯re my friend, are you not? What kind of lady would stand by and watch you die for no good reason?¡±

    My own words were less effective on me than him. Whether we were friends did not matter in the end; I wanted him to listen to what I had to say, and that meant pushing him in a certain direction by appealing to his emotions. A sober perspective was what he needed. His breathing calmed slightly as he started thinking normally. ¡°I¡¯m... I shouldn¡¯t have said that. Of course. You¡¯re right. They¡¯re trying to kill us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad we¡¯re in agreement. Hopefully, they don¡¯t hurt anyone. Is there a safe place we can go?¡±

    Felipe nodded and led me through the bowels of the manor. We arrived at an unassuming door tucked away between three intersections. He opened it to reveal an unused office space with a small window that looked out to the back garden. ¡°This place is very hard to find, Beatrice comes here when she wants to be alone. You can lock the door, and even fit through the window if you want to escape.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now wait here until the coast is clear.¡±

    He turned on me with a fearful expression, ¡°What?¡± I pulled the door shut and held onto the handle as he tried to get out again. I had no intention of letting him run around the manor with so many armed assassins chasing him. He banged on the door, ¡°Maria! What are you doing? You need to hide too!¡±

    ¡°I might have omitted a few important details. The only person they¡¯re after is you.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡± he protested, ¡°You told me that there is nothing to be done! Don¡¯t tell me that you¡¯re planning something!¡±

    ¡°Lock the door and stay here,¡± I insisted. With my point made, I let go of the handle and kicked off my shoes. Those heels were just going to get me killed. I sprinted back the way we came before Felipe had a chance to escape the room and hold me back. My disappearance would give him enough reason to stay put. I¡¯d fed him multiple lies to get him here, and the most important one was the fact that these men were entirely capable of harming the hostages with or without us. I wasn¡¯t going to let this ball turn into a bloodbath. It¡¯d be a sad display to return to the academy with members of my class missing because of this bullshit.

    The problems were numerous. I only had a novelty pistol that could potentially penetrate the body at point-blank range. There were five or six armed men who now sported full control of the main hall, where two hundred or so innocent people were trying to socialise. It was safe to assume that at least one of the staff members went running for the nearest phone or police outpost when the trouble started. There was a time limit to think about before they arrived. I didn¡¯t trust the police to handle this situation without turning it into a violent gunfight, and that would mean people getting caught up in the crossfire.

    My priority was finding a way to attract their attention and pull them away from the hall. The best way to do that would be for them to realise that Felipe wasn¡¯t there at all, though I predicted that one or two of them would remain to ensure that the hostages didn¡¯t make a run for it while the others searched the manor. Before I reached the double doors that led into the dance hall, I took a detour into the kitchen, which was now deserted.

    The single-fire pistol that I¡¯d stolen was not going to be much help. The bullet calibre was so small that the target could easily survive the shot and fire back. That was a chance that I was unwilling to take, victory in combat was all about stacking advantages on top of each other; like initiative, momentum and resilience.

    I took a kitchen knife but discovered that there was no good place to hide it. A bright idea soon came to resolve my dilemma. I withdrew the pistol from beside my chest and made sure that it was cocked and loaded. If it was no good for killing someone, it could at least serve as a noisemaker to get their attention. The plan was simply terrible ¨C but there were no more pieces for me to manipulate. I needed a real weapon and I had to hope that one of the gunmen was carrying something more usable.

    I aimed towards the ceiling and pulled the trigger. It may have been small, but it still made an almighty racket. With my bait set, I ducked behind the kitchen counter and waited. ¡°Come on, let me stab you already,¡± I muttered to myself. I heard the doors open and voices speaking, but it was impossible to discern what the discussion was about. They must have been questioning the guests about where Felipe was. The footsteps grew closer, converting from carpet to tile as the biggest loser peered inside to see what was causing the trouble.

    It was now or never.

 Chapter 30

    Samantha was beginning to understand why Max was so dismissive of these parties.

    While the sights and sounds provided their own share of novelty, in terms of having fun with friends they were less than ideal. The music was slow and atmospheric, and Samantha had never once danced to something like it in her life. The guests were all insulated within their own personal bubbles, speaking with pre-existing friends and spurning others without a second thought. It was completely different to what she was used to. Harvest festivals back in her home town were all about eating and dancing until you couldn¡¯t bear to move any longer.

    Max had the dubious benefit of being a very eligible bachelor. Endless hordes of women approached from every corner of the hall when they noticed him, and all of them were looking for the same thing, an opportunity to get into his good graces and potentially marry into the family. Max remained polite at all times ¨C gently rebuffing each advance and engaging in practised small talk to satisfy them. That didn¡¯t stop them from sending daggers her way as they left though.

    ¡°They must really think that we¡¯re here as a couple,¡± Max chuckled as he piled even more food onto a plate.

    Samantha sighed and straightened out her bangs; ¡°Do you find that idea offensive?¡±

    Max leapt into damage control mode, ¡°I don¡¯t mean it like that. I think that any man would be lucky to have you. There¡¯s just a big difference between having a female friend and deciding to start a relationship.¡±

    ¡°You sound like you have experience with it.¡±

    He shrugged, ¡°Not personally, but I¡¯ve seen a lot of these marriages fall apart before they even get close to walking down the aisle together. Some people treat it frivolously, like the only thing they¡¯re thinking about is the money they stand to inherit on the other side. I think it¡¯s ridiculous. Everyone here has enough money to live comfortably for life six times over.¡±

    ¡°I find it strange. It¡¯s completely unheard of to do something like that where I come from.¡±

    ¡°You rural folk have the right idea,¡± Max said, ¡°Why would you want to spend your entire life with someone you can¡¯t stand?¡± Max¡¯s expression was pensive. Samantha sensed that there was more to this story that he was unwilling to share. Samantha followed his lead and took some of the same food items to try while she had the chance. It wasn¡¯t every day a high-quality buffet like this presented itself.

    ¡°Where do you think Claude ran off to?¡± she asked in an attempt to change the subject to something lighter.

    ¡°Knowing him ¨C he¡¯s probably knee-deep in making up a murder plot to solve, that or making a personal enemy out of every noble in the building.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s okay to leave him alone?¡±

    Max nodded and scarfed down another piece of sausage without further comment. Samantha resigned herself to people-watching again. At least there was always something to see going on with the other attendees.

    But the party was disrupted by a sudden burst of gunfire.

    Plaster fell down from the ceiling as a trio of shots ripped through into the upper floors. People screamed and scrambled out of the way as a mean-looking gentleman hopped up onto the stage and fired a revolver into the air. The men who had been studiously observing the party moments before all pulled guns from their suits and made themselves visible. The panic was the point. With so many people seeking egress from the room, none would succeed. The doors were already packed to capacity with two or three trying to get through at once, and they were already being watched by more armed men.

    ¡°What the... those are the guards!¡± Maxwell hissed as he ducked for cover. Samantha huddled close to his side and tried to avoid attracting their attention. The man on the stage was waiting for everyone to quieten down before he explained himself. While he did ¨C he loaded three rounds into his gun and observed the bedlam that he just unleashed.

    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your undivided attention? The man with the gun is speaking!¡±

    His words cut through like a knife. The frantic movements of the revellers came to an abrupt end as they finally discovered that there were even more hostage-takers watching the doors in and out of the hall. A silence settled over them that was entirely unnatural. Members of the band cowered behind the stage. He started to pace back and forth as he observed the assembled nobles.

    ¡°That¡¯s better. There¡¯s no need for all that panic now, is there?¡±

    One of the other men joined him, with another pistol aimed squarely at the people still trapped near the dancefloor. He scratched his beard and spat out a glob of phlegm with no regard for where it landed.

    His accent was broad and his tone dismissive, ¡°Where¡¯s Felipe Escobarus? We know he¡¯s here at this party. Just show yourself and let¡¯s get this over with before somebody gets hurt on your behalf.¡±

    Nobody saw fit to reveal where he was. They were nothing more than bystanders now, watching a man who had transformed from respectable to distasteful in an instant. He swaggered back and forth in front of them, lazily waving his gun around and threatening to unleash it upon the first person who rubbed him the wrong way.

    ¡°This is bad ¨C those are the guards that they hired to try and stop this from happening,¡± Maxwell whispered.

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    ¡°What? You¡¯re saying that all of them are here to try and kidnap Felipe?¡±

    ¡°No, I think they¡¯re here for something much worse than that.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s stomach dropped as the full implications became obvious. Felipe¡¯s surrender was not just that, it was to sign his own death warrant in doing so. The guns were real, the trio of holes in the ceiling were evidence of that. There was not a soul in sight who even knew where he had gone, except for one girl whose face was twisted into a terrified stare. Beatrice Booker.

    He noticed, ¡°Oh, look who we have here! It¡¯s the one and only Beatrice Booker herself. Come up here love, I¡¯d like to have a chat with you.¡±

    She shook her head mutely.

    He pointed the gun away and waved her over, ¡°There¡¯s no need to be stubborn. I¡¯m not gonna¡¯ touch a single hair on that pretty little head of yours. I like having my bollocks attached - thank you very much.¡±

    Beatrice had no choice. She shimmed herself away from her friends who were trying to hold her back and approached the stage. This was her party. As the host, it was her job to make sure that everyone went home without any incidents occurring. From where she was standing, mustering the courage to ascend the steps was the greatest challenge in her young life. Each movement felt like she was stabbing herself with another needle.

    The gunman pulled her by the arm and rolled his eyes, ¡°I said I¡¯m not gonna¡¯ hurt you! Stop wasting my bloody time and stand there!¡±

    Beatrice couldn¡¯t stop herself from shaking as he stalked around her, around and around and around. She found herself wondering why nobody was doing anything to stop them, but then she remembered that all of the men were holding weapons. They could easily kill anyone who tried to escape.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Felipe? That¡¯s all we want to know.¡±

    Beatrice couldn¡¯t hide the quiver in her voice, ¡°Why do you want him?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for us to know and for you to find out. You just tell us where he¡¯s gone.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not here!¡±

    ¡°I can tell that he¡¯s not bloody here!¡± the man snapped, ¡°I¡¯ve been looking through this crowd for a good while now and I can¡¯t see any sign of him, which means that he left the hall at some point. You¡¯re the one who¡¯s going to know, so now you¡¯re going to tell us, and all of you good folk can go home no harm no foul.¡±

    Beatrice was no fool. For such a violent and amoral man, harming others would be easy even with a verbal promise being offered. What was there to stop him from firing blindly into the crowd and killing several people? The moment he had the information he wanted, the matter would be firmly out of her control. Years of listening to her Father speak about his business endeavours meant that she understood fully the value of leverage. This was a negotiation, one done at the end of a gun, but a negotiation regardless.

    She mustered what scant courage flickered in her chest and refused to provide an easy answer, ¡°You¡¯re going to try and hurt Felipe, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The ringleader glanced at his companion, filled with exasperation. ¡°Girlie ¨C I don¡¯t think you understand the situation you¡¯re in here. This isn¡¯t a game of tennis. I¡¯m asking the questions. You have two choices. You tell me where he is, or I start firing at all of these lovely guests you¡¯ve assembled for me.¡±

    To punctuate his threat the other men drew their respective weapons and aimed them at the cowering crowd. A litany of screams and wails pushed her over the edge. She had to trust that Felipe would get to safety.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll tell you.¡±

    The guns were lowered.

    ¡°He went to the staff washroom.¡±

    The tension in the room was lowered somewhat as the imminent threat of more violence was defused. None of the people present would begrudge Beatrice for trying to protect them in this situation, but for her, it felt similar to betraying Felipe.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so hard, was it? Andrey, you¡¯re coming with me.¡±

    The second stage robber frowned, ¡°Why the hell do I have to go with you?¡±

    The leader was not amused in the slightest, he stormed past where Beatrice was standing and slapped him around the back of his head. The crack was nearly as loud as the gunshots that they had fired moments before. ¡°You were supposed to be the one watching the staff door, and you let him get out! If I leave you in here unsupervised you¡¯re gonna do something stupid!¡±

    Andrey sulked like a child being denied desert, but the fear he felt towards Eidos was enough to keep him in line. He¡¯d much rather suffer from verbal abuse versus what he was really capable of. Eidos was one of the cruellest members of the gang. He held no qualms about harming bystanders if it helped him get his way. With that in mind, he acknowledged that Beatrice made the right decision by giving him the information quickly. His threat of killing the hostages was real.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to end up the butt of the joke, like that idiot Prier did,¡± he muttered under his breath, ¡°That arsehole couldn¡¯t even kill a schoolkid when he was working there as a teacher! He¡¯s pathetic.¡±

    Andrey shook his head, ¡°But he was good at what he did. Don¡¯t start acting like this is going to be easy just because you didn¡¯t like him.¡±

    Eidos rolled his eyes, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. All we need to do is find the kid and kill him. We¡¯re the only armed guards on the property. We¡¯ll be out of here before the police even know what¡¯s happening. Not if you keep trying to hold me up with all this talk though. Get a bloody move on.¡±

    Andrey nodded and hopped down from the stage with Eidos in pursuit. Before the gunmen could approach the staff door and start their search for Felipe, another figure staggered through ¨C covered from head to toe in blood. More screams filled the air as one of their number collapsed onto his hands and knees. Andrey hurried to his side and tried to stop him from collapsing completely.

    ¡°What happened to you?¡± he cried.

    ¡°T-There¡¯s... somebody in the corridors... she...¡±

    ¡°Oh God above, he can barely talk ¨C Eidos!¡±

    Eidos¡¯ brow was furrowed. Erik was cautious at the best of times, and he¡¯d only agreed to come with them because Eidos had meticulously planned the operation from top to bottom. No guns on site, no other guards to worry about, and an escape already arranged and ready to go. Now here he was ¨C drenched in so much of his own blood that he was barely recognizable.

    Whoever was responsible had intended to send a message. The cuts that ran across his body were strategically placed to cause as much visual damage as possible without killing him. One across his forehead was particularly effective as an intimidation technique due to the blood flow that ran through it.

    ¡°Whoever did this knew what they were doing,¡± he concluded. Erik was too out of it to talk about the how or why. Eidos didn¡¯t care. The person responsible was dead meat when he got his hands on them. Eidos pointed to a petrified staff member waiting by the door, ¡°You. Make sure that he doesn¡¯t bleed out. If I don¡¯t see a proper effort, you¡¯ll end up the same way.¡±

    They scrambled to do as he asked, ripping apart a piece of cloth and wrapping it around his head to try and stem the bleeding. Andrey swallowed and pulled the door open, revealing a long trail of blood that led from the kitchen. If they were smart, they¡¯d have vacated the area already and set up another ambush.

    ¡°This is messed up,¡± Andrey worried, ¡°They didn¡¯t say nothing about some crazy bastard being at this party.¡±

    Eidos shoved him out of the way and powered through; ¡°Stop being such a pansy and follow me. They won¡¯t last long once I get my hands on them.¡±

 Chapter 31

    The flat-footed idiot who was searching these back corridors wasn¡¯t expecting anyone to fight back. He marched into the kitchen with a lackadaisical gait. A revolver was clutched in his right hand but now bared and ready to shoot. He took a sharp turn to the left and walked over to one of the ovens ¨C which had been left on in the panic after the gunfire. He grabbed the ladle from inside and sipped whatever was inside with a pleased hum. That served me just fine. He was totally distracted when I snuck up on him from behind.

    He was distracted all the way until I accidentally slipped on a wet part of the floor by the sink. I reached out and grabbed the counter island in the middle of the room to stop myself from falling, but the commotion was enough to catch his ear. He swung around and pointed his gun at me, but I quickly ducked out of the way before he could fire his first shot.

    ¡°Hey! What are you doing, girl?¡±

    Who the hell spilt water all over the damn floor? It was an unsafe working environment! I¡¯d need to have a word with Beatrice once I was done taking care of the gunmen. My size was enough to deceive him into thinking that I was not a threat. He approached around the corner of the island and tried to grab my shoulder with his free hand. I made him think again by slashing at him with my stolen knife and cutting his other arm. He gasped and stepped back before I could close the gap and do it again.

    ¡°You crazy bitch!¡± He pointed his gun at me but underestimated how deep the cut I had made was. He couldn¡¯t put the same strength into his forearm anymore and his fingers refused to respond. He looked like a deer in the headlights as I closed in with my weapon of choice.

    ¡°Give me the gun,¡± I demanded, ¡°Give me the gun and I won¡¯t gut you.¡±

    ¡°Save the talk for someone who cares!¡±

    Switching to his other hand gave me the window I was looking for. I charged in and grabbed the barrel of the gun using one of my hands. Sensing that he was about to lose it and end up on the other end of the issue, he yanked it back and tossed it across the room. I growled when it landed by the door; I couldn¡¯t move as quickly with such a constricting dress around my legs; otherwise, I would have leapt over the central counter to reach it before him.

    He wasn¡¯t going to have better luck trying to take me on in a fistfight. He dived onto the counter and grabbed the first knife he could find to try and defend himself from me. I wasn¡¯t going to be deterred by that alone. The best he could manage was pointing the right end at me. Several speculative slashes came my way that were nowhere close to touching my skin. I stepped back in and hooked the back of my blade around his, forcing his arm up and throwing it into the air. I followed it up with a punch to the windpipe, sending him staggering back until he hit the counter.

    In a display of rage ¨C he grabbed the heated pot and threw it onto the ground in front of him, before making a break for the door. I was already moving around to intercept him before he could reach his discarded weapon. Flipping the knife backwards and catching the blade between my fingers, I threw it at his leg and embedded it into his shin. He skidded to a halt and collapsed down onto one knee. I leapt off of it and struck him in the head with a kick from above.

    He rolled away and spat the blood from his mouth, ¡°How in the Goddess¡¯ name are you doing that?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, can¡¯t keep up with a little girl?¡±

    He limped towards me and swung out with clumsy fists. I was too nimble, ducking and weaving between each strike and retaliating with shallow cuts and physical blows to his vital areas. In a fight ¨C a small advantage can quickly snowball into complete victory. A position of weakness is not something that is easy to come back from. From one arm and one leg both injured, there was little he could do to fight me off now; but that didn¡¯t mean he was going to give up so easily, not while the gun was in play.

    Instead of using that gun, he reached out to the rack above and grabbed one of the heavy iron pans that the cooks were using to prepare the food. While it was a comical sight, those things could do serious damage thanks to their weight. It was an effective blunt weapon with longer reach than the knife I¡¯d grabbed earlier. I kept away as he threatened to hit me with it, waving it in my general direction. It looked like he knew that the fight wasn¡¯t going his way, and now his singular priority was to try and ward me off.

    ¡°Back off! I¡¯m not messing around!¡±

    ¡°Neither am I.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t make a break for the gun while he was still aware. He¡¯d leap onto my back and wrestle me to the ground if I gave him the chance. The fight had been paused for the time being, but we were still probing each other for gaps in our respective defences. What he didn¡¯t know was that I was backing him up towards a certain spot on the floor. He was so distracted by the spilt soup, that he didn¡¯t even consider the water that I¡¯d almost slipped on before the fight started.

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    He fell for it. As soon as his flat-soled shoe touched the tiles, he lost his balance and was forced to catch himself on the counter. I turned and made a sprint for the gun, diving to the floor and scooping it into my arms. He was hot on my heels to try and stop me from killing him with it, but I had no intention of doing that just yet. I grabbed an upturned cookery pot from the counter next to me and smashed him in the face with it. His already damp shoes made sure that he was knocked flat onto his back for the second time.

    He turned onto his stomach and tried to crawl away, but I was already pushing my knee down into his spine before he could get anywhere. I cocked the hammer of the gun and pressed it against the back of his head.

    ¡°Those are the jaws of a viper you¡¯re feeling. I don¡¯t care about your name, or why you¡¯re here. I have one question for you. Is this gun single-action, or double-action?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    I repeated it with venom and put more tension onto his captive arm, ¡°Single, or double?¡±

    ¡°D-Double!¡±

    ¡°Thank you kindly.¡±

    I came down on the back of his head with the grip, slamming his jaw into the floor and knocking him out cold. I dismounted his unconscious body and sighed, that was much harder than I was expecting. Kitchens were terrible places to try and assassinate someone in. The floors were just as treacherous as the weapons we were using. Regardless, I¡¯d successfully subdued one of their men and taken his weapon. It would serve me much better than the novelty hidden gun that the other one was carrying.

    I needed to get the rest of his gang out of the hall. I could realistically handle them, but not if they had access to hostages. The chances of success would decrease drastically if they were able to use them as human shields. I avoided using strategies like that, but I wasn¡¯t going to be na?ve and think that they¡¯d do the same. The fact that they were willingly revealing themselves to the people in the building meant that they didn¡¯t care for the art of subtlety. I could easily see them gunning down an innocent bystander just to prove a point.

    In my old life that would be a death sentence. There was a fine line to walk between doing the job and attracting too much heat. Every move you made had to be calculated and considered, weighed against the risk that is presented in return. I was a killer, but I also wanted to keep on doing what I did. How would I draw them out of the hall, you ask? Felipe was one piece of the puzzle. They needed to send someone to find him, and he wasn¡¯t in there thanks to our bathroom break.

    Given that only two of them had come through this way they must have missed him leaving. They¡¯d need to keep someone in the hall to make sure that they didn¡¯t get any funny ideas about escaping or fighting back. I counted seven different guards during my scouting mission, but there could have been more waiting in the wings for when the party really started. This all told me that the person in charge was impulsive and aggressive; that they were someone who I could manipulate and unsettle with a few basic tricks.

    And thus, we return to the time-tested practice of intimidation. I wouldn¡¯t be intimidating anyone using my body language. While the kids at the academy were easy enough to scare with a strong glare, a fully-grown man would discount me as a posh girl with more confidence than common sense. In order to present the narrative that I wanted ¨C I needed to keep my own face and name out of the equation. I retrieved my knife from the floor and headed over to my new best friend.

    A single cut in the right place could leave a very intimidating wound that was less deadly than most others. Have you ever seen a professional wrestler slice their own forehead open? It was the same principle here. I carefully ran the tip of the knife across the skin and split it open. A veritable waterfall of blood started to leak down his features. He sputtered back to life and spat some of the iron-tinged gore from his mouth. It would stop bleeding fairly quickly and close itself up, but it made sure that he looked like he¡¯d been through a warzone and barely got out alive.

    My bloodied friend soon discovered that I¡¯d tied his wrists together using one of the washcloths from the sink. I pulled him back up on his unsteady feet and kept the gun trained on his back as we walked into the main corridor. The guy could barely even see through the crimson mask I¡¯d given him, but a helpful shove got him moving in the right direction.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to let you go.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Seriously. All you need to do is walk through those doors before you pass out again. Or not, it¡¯s up to you really.¡±

    He shook his head in disbelief and hesitated. He was waiting for me to deliver the punchline, that being a bullet shot through his back and through his chest cavity. I was actually being honest. I wanted him to stumble into that hall looking like he¡¯d just run through a butcher¡¯s freezer blindfolded. I wanted some of his friends to come crashing through looking for the person responsible. The first step was tentative, but they soon increased in pace. I could see what he was thinking at that moment. He couldn¡¯t believe that I wasn¡¯t lying to him.

    Once he reached the door I dropped the gun to my side and turned to leave. I needed to set up my next ambush before they came running. There was a small chance of him getting patched up and coming back with another gun, but control of their movement was more important to me than that.

    It was a good thing that I had gotten a lay of the house before entering the hall earlier. I already had some good places in mind to launch my next attack. As long as they kept me between them and the office that Felipe was now hiding in. I opened the cylinder of the revolver and checked how many rounds I had to play with; six, and he wasn¡¯t carrying any more.

    I needed to make them count.

 Chapter 32

    Claudius was not having a good time.

    He thought that attending a noble ball was the worst thing that was going to happen this evening. Even a cursory look at what most of the other students were doing was enough to bore Claudius out of his mind, and he was a boy who found amusement in things other people considered mundane. He did not understand the appeal in the slightest. Who would want to go to a party with boring music, and where nobody seemed interested in having fun? Most of the attendees were just standing around and chatting with each other, if that.

    His complaints about the party were superseded fairly quickly, with a patter of gunfire from the main hall and the panicked movements of the staff members in the main lobby. Claudius found himself standing in the middle of the tempest ¨C a witness to the kind of crime that his Father specialised in cracking down on. Claudius ducked for cover behind the nearest piece of furniture as four gunmen emerged into the front garden and prevented anyone from leaving. The people trying to escape the manor were contained and forced back into the building under threat of execution.

    This was it; the moment that Claudius had been waiting for his whole life. There was a real, honest to goodness crime happening right in front of him! Hundreds of stories of heroism ran through his mind. Tales from the brave and the bold, the bystanders who stepped in to prevent injustice even at great personal risk. Claude idolised those men and women, it was part of the reason why he was so intent on following in his Father¡¯s footsteps. Being a police officer wasn¡¯t glamorous ¨C he knew that, and it didn¡¯t command the same attention that a civilian hero did...

    So why couldn¡¯t he will himself to move?

    This was it. The type of occurrence that he dreamed about every single day was happening right before his eyes! But he couldn¡¯t move. His legs were locked into place like they were connected to the floor. His breathing felt uneven as adrenaline surged through his body, but rather than summoning bravery ¨C it only made his panic worse. He didn¡¯t have a gun, and he didn¡¯t know the first thing about fighting someone in hand-to-hand combat. The moment he tried anything, he¡¯d be gunned down in a hail of bullets. There was a sudden, sobering moment as Claude observed from his hiding place. He was no hero at all.

    There was a nascent understanding within him. His obsession with detective novels and true crime stories was all fun and games, even his wild theories about people like Maria were just to amuse himself more than anything. It made his life feel more exciting with danger and menace lurking around every corner. He would declare someone like her to be a murderer, and then turn around to accept her personal tutoring a few days later. He¡¯d have to be a tremendous fool to not see the failings in his own behaviour. Claudius would not be attending such a prestigious academy if he weren¡¯t highly intelligent already. But his desire to be helpful was earnest. What could a boy his age do to help people like his Father did?

    They had guns, Claudius didn¡¯t. If those crime serials had taught him anything, it was that getting into a fight with them was going to be a terrible idea. Claude didn¡¯t want to get caught and held by them either, so he scuttled away on his hands and knees to a nearby storeroom to get out of sight before they found him. The room was not replete with things that could help him fight his way out of the manor, not unless he turned the broom in the corner into some kind of pointed weapon. Cleaning supplies versus firearms was not a favourable equation.

    Claudius chastised himself. There really was nothing for him to do, unless he could find a way off of the property to go and find some help. Surely a barrage of police officers moving up on the building would scare them away before they could bring the people to harm. It was a safer bet than letting them do whatever they pleased. Taking the broom in hand for self-defence, he peered out of the doorway and tried to get a view on the situation. The gunmen had posted two to watch the front door, but their backs were turned to the lobby. The rest of the staff had been ushered back towards the hall so that they could keep an eye on them.

    Perfect. Claudius kept his head low and scuttled away from the commotion before he could be caught up in it. He needed to find a window or exit that would allow him to leave without anyone seeing him. His best hope was to head to one wing of the house that wasn¡¯t being watched and make a break for it through the gardens ¨C then it would be a simple matter of reaching a nearby police outpost and informing them of the trouble. A quick telephone call to the nearest dispatch operator would have things cleared up in a jiffy! Of course, Claudius was assuming that everything would go perfectly smoothly, unimpeded by others or faced with adversity.

    There was one immediate problem. Claudius had no idea where he was going, aside from that he needed to keep heading in one direction to find an exit. Easier said than done when he wandered into the twisting, velveteen corridors of the staff area. There wasn¡¯t a single window to be seen or orient himself with, and every area rapidly started to blend together as he walked in circles time and time again. It was safe to say that he was getting incredibly frustrated. As far as he knew he was the only one in a position to get out of there and bring help back.

    ¡°Come on Claude, what happened to those amazing powers of deduction?¡± he despaired, ¡°They¡¯re going to find your skeleton in here in a few years...¡±

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    How hard was it to pick a direction and keep walking? Very; given that the building wasn¡¯t designed with such a task in mind. There was no rhyme or reason to the layout from what he could see, whenever he thought he was headed in the right direction he¡¯d end up facing a blank wall or a locked door in short order. Claude thanked his lucky stars that the criminals rampaging through the building hadn¡¯t seen him yet. Though he did nearly jump out of his skin when a white blur leapt around one of the corners and stared at him. It took him a moment to realise that it was Beatrice¡¯s pet cat, and not a man out to kill him.

    Bloody cat!

    The cat was not of much assistance in this case. Claude walked over to it, but was nearly bowled over in the process as a familiar girl bolted down the corridor. Everything came to a halt as the culprit stopped in place and tucked one arm behind her back.

    ¡°Maria?¡± Claude gasped from the floor, ¡°What are you doing out here?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear the commotion?¡± she responded nervously, ¡°There are armed men in the building. I was helping Felipe hide before they could find him.¡±

    Hide Felipe?

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain why you were running down here.¡±

    ¡°I thought that would be rather obvious, given the circumstances.¡±

    Maria¡¯s behaviour struck Claude as strange. It was the first time he¡¯d ever seen her acting like she wasn¡¯t in total control of the situation. That would make sense if she were any other girl, but Claude just couldn¡¯t imagine Maria losing her cool over something as banal as a dangerous hostage situation. His eyes were drawn to the arm that now rested against her back. Her other hand was covered in a mysterious red liquid.

    ¡°And what happened to your arm?¡±

    Maria sighed, ¡°I didn¡¯t get the opportunity to clean the wine from my hands before we were rudely interrupted.¡± Claude was too flustered to make the obvious observation that the consistency and colouration of the ¡®wine¡¯ on Maria¡¯s palm was too dark and thick to be an alcoholic beverage. In reality, it was blood from a pair of troublesome encounters.

    ¡°Do you know how to get out of here?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Not exactly.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to help me get out of here! We need to go and get the police!¡±

    Maria was unperturbed, ¡°I¡¯m sure that one of the staff is already on their way to do just that. You should find somewhere safe and try to keep out of trouble.¡±

    Claude tried to move around her and catch sight of what she was hiding, but she deftly turned to face him, before positioning herself against the wall. It only served to heighten his curiosity. She was even trying to separate herself from him. Something foul was afoot ¨C and he was going to find out what.

    Claude pointed behind her, ¡°Look, a cat!¡±

    Maria remained completely still, ¡°Yes. I met her earlier. Beatrice has spoken to me before about them. Are we going to stand here and talk all day, or get somewhere safe before they come looking for us?¡±

    Claude had to admit that it was a poor effort. He sighed and turned around to keep going where he was originally moving with Maria hot in pursuit. Claude kept replaying the discussion in his head. He needed answers and he needed them fast. Once he was happy that Maria was moving at a decent pace, he stopped suddenly and allowed her to overtake him. That was all he needed to see what she¡¯d been hiding from him. It was unmistakably a revolver, clutched between wine-drenched hands. Maria¡¯s fingers were so dainty that he wondered if she could even pull the trigger without an almighty effort.

    Maria was not happy about his duplicity. She reached out and grabbed his jacket, pulling him into a nearby alcove and pushing him up against the wall. Claude had messed up ¨C he didn¡¯t expect her to act like that just because he saw it.

    ¡°W-Why do you have that gun, Maria?¡±

    Maria blinked, ¡°I stole it.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°So that I could defend myself, why else would you use a gun?¡±

    Claude was filled with even more questions than he held already. Where did she get it from? Why was she trying to hide it? And was she really willing to go that far and shoot someone dead using it? The last one stuck out to him; his detective persona wanted to say yes, but his rational mind thought otherwise. Maria was cold-blooded but that didn¡¯t necessarily make her a killer. There was a world of difference between harsh words and actual harm done.

    ¡°Listen, Claude ¨C those men are here to try and kill Felipe, I heard them demanding to know where he is. I¡¯ve hidden him somewhere in the manor where they probably won¡¯t find him, you should go and do the same.¡±

    ¡°But what are you going to do?¡± Claude fired back, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that you¡¯re going to try and shoot some of them.¡± Maria was visibly conflicted, though Claude was not aware that she was acting. Maria had killed hundreds of people in her past life, it was no problem to add a few more to the list.

    ¡°If it comes to that...¡±

    ¡°No, no. You can¡¯t do that. That¡¯s one thing that you can never take back once you do it. My Father¡¯s done it before, and he said it was the worst thing he ever did! He¡¯s a fully-grown man! And he was ready to because it was his job. He still got shaken up by it!¡±

    The pair stared each other down. Claude could feel his pulse quickening as her predatory red eyes took a deep measure of his character. In any other circumstance, he¡¯d consider it almost intimate to be so close to her, but Maria¡¯s behaviour made it plain that she was extremely angry with him. Was it because she didn¡¯t want to be told what to do? Or something else entirely?

    ¡°I can choose to do what I want, Claude. Call it desperate, or silly, but I¡¯m going to keep myself safe by using this thing. Saving your soul doesn¡¯t mean much when you give up the one life you get. There are no second chances here.¡±

    Before the debate could go any further, a cacophony of voices and footsteps could be heard from further down the corridor. They¡¯d already started moving to try and find Felipe and the culprit behind their friend¡¯s new look. Maria was out of time, she pulled Claude along with her until she found an unlocked door ¨C throwing him inside and slamming it shut to keep him away from trouble.

    ¡°Stay in there until this is over. There¡¯s something that I need to do.¡±

    Claude hurried to his feet and opened it again, but she was already gone. He pulled it shut as a group of armed men maundered their way past. Was Maria really going to try and get one over on a gang of armed thugs? She may have been good at sports, but this was a whole different ball game!

    ¡°I hope to the Goddess that she knows what she¡¯s doing.¡±

 Chapter 33

    Of all the people who could have gotten close to discovering my real identity, Claudius was the last person I expected to do it. That was the risk I ran walking around the building with a gun in hand, but my quick thinking saved me from having to deal with any damage control. Claude thought that I was just being stupid and walking around with a gun I wasn¡¯t planning on using. He was wrong. I was going to thin the herd before things got any worse.

    People would always walk the path that fulfilled them the most, or the one that made them feel the smartest. The biggest secret to getting your way is to make other people think that what you want was originally their idea in the first place. This was true of many things. When trying to gain access to a restricted area or get away after doing the deed ¨C I¡¯d often use slight misdirections to confuse my pursuers. I didn¡¯t have many options. I needed a good place to launch the opening strike against the assassins that were after Felipe, but I couldn¡¯t move past the point where he was hiding lest I risk them finding him without my knowledge.

    I settled on a small library room. It provided me with enough concealment to move around and confuse them, though solid cover was in short supply. There were seven rows in total that ran from front to back, along with a small seating area by the door. The books were the leftovers from what I presumed was the main library in one of the other wings of the building. There was little reason to place a room like this below in the staff corridors.

    My plan was simple. I was going to tilt the odds in my favour as soon as possible by taking a potshot at one of them as they walked through the door. How did I know that they were going to follow me? I¡¯d intentionally left a trail of bloody handprints that led to where I was hiding. Given that I had just brutalized their friend and sent him tumbling into the hall covered in blood, they were going to be out for a bit of revenge. I¡¯d even left the door slightly ajar to sell the story that I was hiding. I braced my shooting arm against one of the bookshelves and steadied my aim. These revolvers could have some pretty serious kick, and I wasn¡¯t wasting one of my six shots just to test it out first.

    I could already hear them kicking up a fuss.

    ¡°Are you sure that they¡¯re here?¡± a voice complained, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be focusing on taking care of that Felipe kid first?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not running around like an arsehole looking for him when there¡¯s somebody here who wants to do us in!¡± another barked back, ¡°I thought that Prier was full of shit when he said that there was somebody at that academy on his tail ¨C but I guess he really is just that incompetent after all.¡±

    ¡°The blood stops here,¡± a third informed them.

    ¡°Yeah, real bloody convenient. Put a few through the door first.¡±

    I remained still even as a trio of shots tore the thin wooden door to pieces right in front of my eyes. I was one step ahead of that ploy. I¡¯d positioned myself in the next row over at an angle that was almost impossible to hit. If they were also using revolvers or non-magazine-fed weapons, they couldn¡¯t afford to spend a bunch of ammunition shooting blindly into the room. Reloading these things took a very long time, time in which the likes of myself could sweep up from their flank and gun them down uncontested. I felt a swell of anticipation building in my chest as they finally chose to enter the room to find me. I counted each and every second as the door was pushed open from the outside.

    The first man charged through with a head of steam, only to be cruelley cut down as I pulled the trigger. The hammer cocked itself and fired in one smooth motion. The man on the other end cried out in pain as a fountain of blood and gun smoke pirouetted from his chest and splattered against the wallpaper behind him. He fell to the ground in a heap and clutched the wound, kicking his legs in agony.

    ¡°Holy shit, they just shot him!¡±

    ¡°I can see that, moron ¨C get in there and shoot them back!¡±

    But I was already relocating, falling back between the aisles of books and hiding from the entryway. Keeping on the move would prevent them from triangulating my location or using their numbers advantage. Two to one still weren¡¯t favourable odds but they were much better than three to one. Having more bodies gave a multiplicative impact on the outcome of a fight. They¡¯d need to be careful if they wanted to surround me now.

    ¡°He¡¯s hit real bad, Eidos.¡±

    ¡°Augh! Son of a whore!¡± the injured thug yelled.

    ¡°I¡¯m giving you one last chance to come out here quietly and surrender,¡± ¡®Eidos¡¯ shouted, ¡°We won¡¯t hurt you too bad if you do.¡±

    I held my tongue. What kind of idiot would accept an offer like that?

    ¡°They¡¯re not going to fall for that, they just shot one of us for the Goddess¡¯ sake!¡±

    ¡°Then stop lollygagging and find them!¡±

    Leading from the front was not his specialty. Tentative footsteps delved deeper into the library, an abundance of caution curried from seeing his friend shot down right in front of him. There was no sympathy coming from me ¨C these people were trying to kill a young boy just to get their hands on the Booker¡¯s business empire. The injured man still hadn¡¯t stopped screaming and shouting. It would have been wiser to preserve his strength and try to get away. I was keeping quiet and using his big mouth to cover my tracks.

    I was already located at the back of the aisle. I could jump between them and keep away. My first pursuer had other ideas as his steps gathered pace. He wasn¡¯t going to let me manipulate his movements that easily, so he was charging down the way to try and catch me with a quick shot from the side. My fast reactions were too much though. I stepped to the left and slipped down the aisle next to his, before thumping the bookshelf with a heavy kick. The unsteady wooden shelf gave way and fell down into the corridor, almost crushing him in the process.

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    ¡°What the hell-¡±

    Bang!

    I pulled the trigger and fired at him, but the delay between the pull and the hammer coming down was just enough to save him from a direct hit to the chest. I hated revolvers. They were nice to look at and romantic to the layman, but they always threw off my aim. When every millisecond counted, it was infuriating to miss because of that slight delay. The shot went wild and struck the books behind him, causing them to explode outwards into a flurry of torn pages. He ducked out of the way before I could fire a follow-up, which meant that his friend, Eidos, could run down and get me.

    I backed away and tucked myself behind one of the shelves again, making extra sure to pull the hammer back manually first to save myself another unfortunate miss.

    ¡°Eidos, it¡¯s a little girl!¡±

    ¡°So what? She has a gun!¡± he responded, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that you¡¯re going to flake out now!¡±

    I only had four bullets left.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the problem. I was just asking why she has a gun!¡±

    Eidos shouted back, ¡°She stole it from him!¡±

    What the hell were they doing? We were in the middle of an active shootout and they were having an argument over nothing. That was just fine by me, it meant that they weren¡¯t working on the same page. That numbers advantage was looking less advantageous by the second. I peered around the edge to try and catch a glimpse of where they had gotten to, but both men had made themselves scarce. I could hear them moving somewhere across from me. I got my answer soon after. Several more bookcases came tumbling down as they started to push them over, trying to flush me out of my hiding place by starting a chain reaction.

    ¡°This must be the girl that Prier mentioned,¡± Eidos scoffed, ¡°She¡¯s the only one who knows what we¡¯re trying to do.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right, and you fell for my trap without even thinking about it!¡± I shouted back.

    Normally I¡¯d keep quiet and use the window to move again, but I wanted them to come to me. I ducked behind one of the upturned shelves and braced my aim. I didn¡¯t want to miss a second shot. When his bumbling friend leapt out from his hiding place to try and cut me down, I responded in kind as his bullet whizzed past my head and kicked up another cloud of book pages. Two shots were fired but only one struck its target. He flew back and tripped over one of the tipped shelves, the shock of the bullet hitting him knocked him out cold.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Eidos yelled. Flustered and rapidly losing control of the situation, he started firing wildly in my direction. It was a better strategy than any of the others they¡¯d employed thus far, random chance had better odds of hitting me than walking into my sights and making it easy. The problem was ammunition, as always. He only had six shots in the cylinder, and it would take a deaf man not to hear the sound of his hammer striking nothing but metal. I was counting the entire time.

    I leapt out of my hiding place and held him up. Sensing that he¡¯d made a major mistake by firing blindly, he put his hands up but refused to release his now empty revolver. It didn¡¯t matter ¨C he couldn¡¯t reload it in time to stop me. His eyes widened in recognition as he finally beheld the red-dress-adorned ¡®little girl¡¯ who just gunned down two of his men in ruthless fashion. It was a categorical dismantling that displayed the immense gap in skill between me and them.

    ¡°I thought Prier was full of crap ¨C but it looks like he was right to worry about you.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°We¡¯re not here for a pleasant discussion. I want to know how many men you¡¯ve brought and where they¡¯re positioned right now.¡±

    Eidos baulked in the face of my reasonable demands, ¡°You really think I¡¯m going to sell out the rest of my crew? What¡¯s stopping you from shooting me once I do? I¡¯m not falling for a basic bloody trick like that. No way, no how.¡±

    Now that I could get a closer look at him, it was no wonder that I had my suspicions about Eidos when I first saw him in the hall. He was the very definition of the word shifty, with a shaved head, long mutton chops, and a scowl that that only a mother would love. Now that his sleeves were rolled up I could also see several decorative tattoos that ran up his arms. He seemed unaffected by the outcome of the fight, even as both of his friends bled out by the door and next to him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of questions for you, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be well-fussed answering them,¡± he joked.

    ¡°The only thing you need to know is that I¡¯m well-versed in using a gun.¡±

    ¡°That much was obvious. Maybe Prier wasn¡¯t quite the incompetent blagger I took him for. I¡¯m guessing that you were the one who put those rounds into his leg and chest, and even using his own gun! That¡¯s a personal touch. You¡¯re stone cold ¨C girlie.¡±

    I quirked my brow, ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look! Prier was sending the boss man reports on what was going on the whole time, and he singled you out for being an obstacle. He did have a sixth sense for that kind of thing, the way you reacted when he shot at the Escobarus kid tipped him off that something wasn¡¯t right. He thought that the feds were inserting child soldiers into the schools to keep an eye on the kids.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯ll find that I¡¯m a normal noble girl, actually.¡±

    He laughed, ¡°Don¡¯t piss up my leg and call it rain, love. I know a thing or two about keeping secrets, even somebody like you has a few. Prier didn¡¯t take you seriously enough ¨C that''s why he¡¯s dead and you¡¯re not. There are no second chances in this line of work. One second you¡¯re riding high, the next you¡¯re six feet under.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ve heard enough out of you, are you going to tell me how many more men I need to shoot or are we done here?¡±

    Eidos smirked ¨C which put me on guard.

    ¡°Oh yeah, we¡¯re done here.¡±

    He reached out with his other empty hand and turned it into a scant mockery of a gun. I could already sense something in the air around me, so I ditched my position and rolled out of the way. Just as I did a bolt of lightning shot from his hand and struck the wall behind me, setting some of the shelves and discarded papers on fire in the process. It was such a powerful spell that my ears were left ringing. He took the chance to flee out of the door before I could catch him. I should have known that something was up ¨C the guy was a mage. I escaped the room before the fire intensified, but knowing that Felipe wasn¡¯t with me my target was already gone searching for him.

    ¡°I should have just shot him when I had the chance,¡± I murmured. I released the cylinder and double-checked that I hadn¡¯t fired more bullets than I counted. Three left. I thought twice about running off after him blindly. The building was too maze-like for me to find him without a method of tracking where he was. I turned back and ducked my head beneath the smoke gathering at the ceiling. The fire was getting worse, but I still had time to search through their pockets and grab their weapons before it was too dangerous.

    Stiff number one came with another revolver and an extra six rounds. Stiff two came with a gun of his own, but it was chambered for another type of round entirely. I didn¡¯t have anywhere to keep it safe but I took it anyway just in case I needed some extra shots. With all of the loose ammunition gathered and one man on the run ¨C it was time to adjust my strategy.

    Eidos saw my face, and for that, he wouldn¡¯t leave the mansion alive.

 Chapter 34

    The penny finally dropped for Eidos. He didn¡¯t have time to tango with me in the library when there was the imminent threat of the police arriving at the mansion soon. They were only here to kill Felipe ¨C that was the goal that would ensure them their respective cut of the other suitor¡¯s bid. I would need to speak with Beatrice about the other people who lobbied to marry her later, as they were all key suspects who could have hired the gang to try and kill him.

    I cleaned my bloody hands on some nearby curtains and planned my next move.

    Two of the people I noted earlier in the hall were dead. If I was assuming that all of them were on Eidos¡¯ payroll, that meant that five remained including him. I had enough bullets to confidently fight back against all of them split between two different guns ¨C but there were other factors to consider. It would be foolish to presume that there were only five gunmen left over. Given their level of access to the property, they could pass people through the front gate and get control of the exterior and gardens.

    Combine that with their large collection of very important hostages, and it wouldn¡¯t be a shock if the police were paralyzed when they arrived on the scene. Things were going to get messy if and when they launched an attack to retake the house. The only upside was that Eidos wanted to be away from the scene before that happened. They could bring a lot of men and arms to bear, and that would fill them with confidence once they understood the situation more. Not to mention some of their biggest tippers potentially dying in the chaos...

    Eidos was going to run and get some more help. Odds were everything ¨C he was smart enough to figure out that much. Now that he had a head start over me, there was no way for me to intercept him and stop him from rounding up more men to try and kill me. I started moving back towards where I hid Felipe. My feet were starting to hurt from all of this running. Some practical shoes would have worked wonders, but all of the people I¡¯d killed were much larger than me. I couldn¡¯t slip my dainty little noble feet into their boots.

    When I finally reached the room, I knocked twice to make sure that he knew it was me.

    There was just one problem. Felipe wasn¡¯t in the room anymore.

    ¡°Felipe!¡± I groaned. I even ducked down and checked under the desk.

    There was no sign of him.

    Why the hell did people find it so hard to follow clear and simple orders? The only person he was putting at risk was himself!

    ¡°Where the hell did you go?¡± I murmured. There were no clues to be found.

    I approached the window and peered through a gap in the curtains. I could see the shadow of a man lurking on the edge of the property by the fence. I clicked my tongue. Eidos did have more people than I expected. That would make things harder. They were holding firm even with the sound of gunfire emerging from inside. They were capable of following orders, unlike Felipe.

    It wasn¡¯t going to do me any good standing there and scowling. I had to find him fast before someone else did and put a bullet between his eyes. The hall was the safest bet. I could only imagine that Felipe was trying to get back to Beatrice and the others for whatever reason.

    The main lobby was safer than going back the way I came. I turned left instead of right and headed towards the front side of the manor. The lobby was dangerous as a place to hide, but I could use it to pass through and reach the hall without making things too predictable. It was every lobby I¡¯d seen in every mansion owned by every family. A huge, empty room with a sitting area that nobody ever used and an overblown staircase that dominated the centre. The Bookers had even installed white Greco-Roman pillars to sell the illusion.

    There was no time to do my usual due diligence. I almost swore out loud as I came face to face with another gun-toting goon. My reactions were faster, and I chose to use them by dodging out of the way behind the nearest stone pillar before he could pull the trigger. There were two other men standing behind him, neither of whom could shoot through his body for fear of friendly fire.

    A few seconds after there was a hail of gunfire shot around the corner to try and hit me through my cover. This house was built solid, and they failed to make much headway. A shower of white dust and fragments surrounded me and threatened to fill my lungs.

    ¡°That¡¯s the girl that Eidos was talking about, kill her!¡±

    He didn¡¯t need to say it when their intent was already so clear. I was in a tough spot. I couldn¡¯t move from my hiding place without exposing myself to their fire. I gripped both of my revolvers tight and quickly spun around to face my attackers, firing three shots in rapid succession. The first two struck one of the men in the chest and sent him to the floor, while the third missed and ripped through a set of metal armour that rested against the back wall, sending the pieces collapsing off the stand.

    ¡°Where the hell is Eidos?¡± one of them cried.

    ¡°He ran off to try and find the Escobarus kid!¡±

    I ducked out of the way as another bullet struck the pillar and stripped away even more of the structure. They¡¯d run out of ammunition before successfully breaking through it, but a two-pronged attack would put me in an even bigger bind. Expecting such a sophisticated strategy from two people in over their heads was a fool¡¯s errand. While they were busy arguing, I rounded the other side of the pillar and blasted one of them to the ground with a single shot.

    The last man standing aimed his rifle and tried to hit me, but his shaking hands caused the bullet to go astray and smash one of the front windows. I used both pistols and put him down with another double tap. I hissed through my teeth as the strong recoil of the guns tested the upper limits of my strength. It was a good thing I didn¡¯t need to shoot again. It took me a few seconds to reset my aim after it was pushed up into the air.

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    I stood there frozen and took a moment to catch my breath. A stray piece of the stone pillar gave way and crumbled next to me. It was a short fight but it made a serious mess of the lobby. I heard the banging of doors upstairs on the balcony, and two more gunmen charged out, using the railings as cover and raining down even more fire from above. There was no time to evade the shots. I spun on my heel and did my best to aim with both guns at long range.

    I had eight bullets left between them, but as I peppered them with return fire I realised that I wasn¡¯t going to hit them at this range. I stopped shooting as they pulled back. Sensing my chance, I leapt towards one of the bodies on the ground and pushed him up to use as makeshift cover. The rifle he dropped was next to him. I dropped the revolvers and grabbed it, using his shoulder as a brace and waiting for them to peek out again.

    One of them got lucky. He took as little time as possible and fired wildly in my direction, striking the corpse and splattering his blood all over my face and hands. I maintained my focus and hit him in the head with a precise piece of marksmanship. I pulled the lever and loaded the next shell, ejecting the empty casing with a loud pinging sound. His friend didn¡¯t get another chance. I fired between the gap in the stone railings and hit him in the stomach.

    I reached forward and checked my new friend¡¯s pockets for anything I could use, finding a selection of spare cartridges and some more revolver shots to replace the ones I¡¯d spent. I pushed him aside and wiped the gore from my eyes. Luckily, I was wearing red ¨C perfect for hiding bloodstains and spilt wine. I had confirmation that Eidos brought more than seven men with him now. Two were dead in the library, one was unconscious in the bathroom, and five were guarding the lobby.

    All this just to kill one teenager? They must have been worried about the security measures. They took control of the situation by bribing someone and getting their names pushed to the top of the list. They had enough guns to give to a small army, and they had even more men waiting outside of the estate to ward away the police.

    I released the cylinder on the revolvers and struggled to force the bullets inside with my still-slick fingers. Give me a magazine-fed weapon any day! Much to my annoyance, the other revolver was break-action too, meaning I had to force the barrel assembly forward to reveal the chamber. I was halfway through fishing for the other bullets before giving up and tossing it away.

    The rifle would serve me just fine, thank you very much. Oh, would you look at that ¨C one of them even had a pistol holster that I could steal. I was geared up and ready to go. I must have looked extremely stupid in my red ball dress, with a leather pistol holster, rifle and blood all over me.

    I may have thinned the herd but I still didn¡¯t know where Eidos was skulking around. The hall was a risky prospect for my cover as a noble girl, but I didn¡¯t have to go inside to figure out where Felipe was. Defending Felipe was the priority here, and killing all of the gunmen may have been the fastest way to resolve the situation. There were too many plates spinning and no way for me to control them.

    Getting control of the house sounded like a good place to start.

    <hr>

    ¡°Claudius, where are we going?¡± Felipe whispered. The sounds of gunshots grew more and more frequent. After an initial sequence of several being fired in close proximity, the entire house descended into all-out warfare as dozens and dozens were exchanged between the hostage-takers and an unseen adversary. Leaving the office and moving under such circumstances was an idea that Felipe couldn¡¯t abide by.

    Just as she did before, Maria reacted quickly and calmly, taking him away from the washroom and hiding him away from the attackers who sought to end his life. Claudius hadn¡¯t demonstrated the same clear and concise thinking, instead demanding that he accompany him to find somewhere even safer than that. Felipe refused, but Claudius made such a terrible racket about it that he veered dangerously close to exposing their hiding place.

    ¡°Upstairs, of course. There¡¯s no safer place in the house than the second floor.¡±

    ¡°Based on what, exactly?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re statistically more likely to survive a robbery incident by remaining upstairs and avoiding confrontation. My Father told me that once.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a robbery, they¡¯re trying to kill me!¡±

    ¡°And how do you know that?¡±

    ¡°Maria said so. They must have asked for me in the main hall.¡±

    Claudius smirked, ¡°I see. But what if Maria is an accessory to their villainous scheme? She was very eager to whisk you away to a room on the outskirts of the building, away from the eyes of any of your family or friends. What would happen if they came upon you and nobody was around to witness it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it would matter at that point! They¡¯d just shoot me, you damnable fool!¡±

    The smell of gunpowder and smoke was getting stronger and stronger as they approached the main lobby. An unsettled feeling started to emerge as Felipe realised the implication of what he was sensing. Claudius charged ahead with no regard for that, skidding to a halt on the tiled floor. The scene could only be described as the purest expression of carnage. Three bodies lay in pools of their own blood. Empty gun casings littered the floor. Felipe could barely keep down the fancy lunch he¡¯d eaten just an hour earlier.

    ¡°Goddess above! What happened here?¡± He turned away and tried to keep it down, but no matter where his gaze landed there was more evidence of the brutality. Pieces of the wall were shattered into piles of rubble, windows were shattered, and family heirlooms were left in tatters.

    ¡°Did one of your guards do this?¡± Claudius muttered.

    Felipe shook his head, ¡°Surely not.¡±

    It was a response with no basis in fact, perhaps if all of them together decided to launch an attack on the enemy. He gathered his nerve and turned to face the bodies once more, noticing that they were all wearing the uniform of the house staff. These were the men that Beatrice¡¯s father hired to keep the party safe! As a matter of fact ¨C the one who ambushed him outside of the washroom was the same. That anxiety was eating at him with increased ferocity.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we have a friend left, I¡¯m afraid.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°These men were all hired to guard the party, but they were the ones who started all of this trouble. They must have infiltrated the manor by applying for the position. The Bookers never had a need for a permanent security solution until now.¡±

    Claudius was left scratching his head; ¡°So if all of the guards are in on it, who killed them? It even looks like they stole one of their weapons too.¡± There was only one girl whom Claudius had witnessed carrying a weapon, and that was Maria. Claudius flung many accusations at her, but he couldn¡¯t imagine her being capable of unleashing a whirlwind of violence such as this.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but we¡¯d better leave before someone comes to investigate the noise.¡± He was in too deep to return to his old hiding place now. He crossed his fingers and hoped that the upper floor would provide more safety.

    ¡°R-Right...¡±

    Claudius nodded and ascended the stairs behind him, avoiding stepping over another two non-uniformed bodies that hid at the top.

 Chapter 35

    A dour mood settled upon those who remained in the hall. What had started as an exuberant and exciting party for many of the students was now a nightmare, watched over by gruff men armed with deadly weapons. The only comfort they could take away from the situation was that none of them were harmed just yet, though that could change at any moment. The situation felt unstable, and the increasingly intense gunfire from the other parts of the manor put everyone on edge.

    For the various members of Tee¡¯s Gang who signed up to perform the job, the very fact that someone was still causing trouble was also cause for concern. It should have been an easy task. With every level of the manor¡¯s security infiltrated by their members and a monopoly on force, there was meant to be nobody left on the property who could fight back.

    ¡°I thought Eidos took care of all the guards!¡± one of the men decried, ¡°What the hell are they all shooting at? Don¡¯t tell me that the police are here already!¡±

    Samantha was also worried but for an entirely different reason. Maria left with Felipe, who was now the target of whatever scheme brought their captors to the manor. Maria was capable, but Samantha believed she was still just a young girl like she was. The truth of the matter would continue to elude her for the time being. In her eyes, Maria was in a huge amount of danger. Every second that passed without her returning piled on more and more pressure.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Maxwell asked, ¡°Aside from the obvious, anyway.¡± He cast a wary glance to the nearest gunman, who returned his glare and motioned to turn his gun in their direction. Max shied away before he found himself in a confrontation.

    ¡°I¡¯m worried about Maria, Claude and Felipe ¨C they¡¯re the only people who weren¡¯t brought back to the hall when they took over.¡±

    All of the other guests and employees were corralled into the hall until there was barely enough space to move. They had complete control of the house and showed no signs of letting up until they got their way. It was a terrible commotion with people screaming and shouting out of fear. None of them were used to this kind of thing, they lived lives of comfort and security.

    ¡°Claude will be fine. The guy¡¯s a fool ¨C but he has a way of getting out of things unscathed,¡± Max assured her, ¡°Maria went with Felipe, so I¡¯m sure that she¡¯ll scare them away before they can do anything bad to him.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not certain that harsh words will be enough to discourage them...¡±

    ¡°Then she can blow them away using her magic. I saw her reading material that was months ahead of where we are in the lessons.¡±

    Sam smiled at the image of Maria easily dispatching several of the criminals using her magical abilities, looking elegant and composed while doing so. That sounded exactly like something that Maria would do if confronted. Samantha felt her heart slow slightly as she concluded that Maria was the last person she needed to worry about. If they fired a bullet at her, it¡¯d get scared and stop in mid-air.

    ¡°Still, I hope that the police get here soon. At least one of the Booker¡¯s people must have gotten out of here before they took control,¡± Max sighed.

    Aside from hushed whispers, nobody dared stand and make themselves known. The armed guards wandered back and forth to ensure that nobody did anything funny. They also pilfered the buffet and downed every drink they could get their hands on. One was placed on medical duty, keeping a close eye on the man who stumbled through the access doorway covered in blood. It was almost like he¡¯d been mauled by some kind of wild animal, but as far as Samantha knew, Beatrice only owned a single housecat.

    Samantha was no stranger to seeing blood. Her rural community would frequently suffer from injuries that left people drenched in it ¨C and some even lost limbs, fingers or worse. Accidentally cutting oneself on a new machine was one thing, but to intentionally do it to someone else gave it more weight. It was an intimidation tactic designed to rile up their captors and put them on unsteady footing. All of this knowledge was tempered with a sense of frustration. Samantha felt completely helpless in the face of a dangerous situation. All of her personal ideals about being a grown-up now that she was living at the school were thrown into a fresh context. What was the right thing to do? What could she do if she even wanted to?

    Tales of heroism were all written with the tacit acceptance that no such thing could ever happen in reality. The bold protagonist performed impossible feats that relied heavily on the incompetence of their foes. The facts were not so kind to the brave. A bullet was a bullet, and it would put down almost anyone who came into contact with it. Those hopeful speeches and instances of defiance were foolish.

    She heard a scream from one of the girls.

    She¡¯d been taken by the arm and dragged to her feet by one of the uncouth hostage-takers, ¡°You wanna¡¯ repeat that to my face, love? I don¡¯t think you quite realise what situation you¡¯re in!¡± She must have said something that he picked up on, and now he was threatening to do something terrible. Her attempts to pull away were for nought ¨C he was too strong for her.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything, let me go!¡±

    ¡°Yeah ¨C I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t. That¡¯s how all you people operate, looking down your noses at us, making sly comments, but the moment you get confronted over it you pretend to be a little angel.¡±

    The situation was quickly getting out of hand. The man who instigated the incident didn¡¯t care if he heard what he did or not, he was just using it as an excuse to lash out at the first person he could get his hands on. Now that he held all the cards his worst excesses were on display. It was getting to his head. None of the other men saw fit to step in and calm him down, they didn¡¯t care what he did.

    Samantha felt her legs moving before her mind. She stood up and marched towards the struggle with a look of determination on her face, but when the snarling fa?ade of her opponent whipped around to face her, all of that bravery was flushed away in an instant. She froze up and stared at the man as he released the girl, who hurried away to the waiting arms of her friends and family.

    ¡°You got a problem, lass?¡±

    Samantha did have a problem, a big one in fact, but she couldn¡¯t get the words to come from between her lips. She had so many ideas about what to say, instinctual outrage that demanded to be let out, but in the face of an armed criminal, they all fell away into nothing. It was at this moment that Samantha discovered bravery was in the doing. It was easy to believe yourself until reality came knocking. She put herself in harm¡¯s way with no expectation of a thank you, but the fear was now hers to own.

    ¡°I asked you a question. Do you have something to say?¡±

    He was getting closer. Samantha could almost smell his breath as he pushed himself into her personal space and stared into her eyes. She remained totally silent and stood her ground unintentionally. Even if she wanted to run, her legs wouldn¡¯t respond to her commands.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Her rescue came from an unlikely source as another of the gang shouted at him.

    ¡°Stop picking fights with the bloody hostages, Ben.¡±

    ¡®Ben¡¯ scoffed and left Samantha standing in place. Her control resumed and she hurried back to Max¡¯s side, who was in a panic about her standing up to one of them. ¡°Goddess above Samantha, he could have killed you!¡±

    ¡°But I couldn¡¯t just leave her to get abused by him,¡± she hissed back.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know if he was going to do anything to her.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, everything worked out ¨C somehow.¡± Samantha didn¡¯t believe it herself, but there was no need to relitigate the problem now that things had cooled off again. She was left thinking that there was something more that she could have done.

    <hr>

    Peering through the door to the hall, there was no sign of Eidos having returned after our fight. The situation remained the same, with hundreds of people crouching down and covering themselves from potential attack. Despite the horrendous racket we made in the lobby, none of the gang members deemed it necessary to find out what was going on. I could only risk so much, so I backed away and headed towards the lobby once more.

    If they dragged Felipe into the hall, I¡¯d hear about it.

    I was getting frustrated. I was missing the answers I wanted, all because someone thought they were clever and took Felipe from the hiding spot I chose. There were a lot of meddlesome kids in the manor ¨C people like Claudius who would lose their cool in a stressful situation and go running instead of thinking things through. The bodies in the lobby remained undisturbed. My only option was to check upstairs and hope for good fortune.

    Someone pounded on the door, ¡°Sean, Bradley, what the hell is going on in there? I heard gunshots, did you get the kid?¡±

    I pulled up my rifle and fired through the door where the sound came from, which was followed up by a hoarse scream of pain as the bullet travelled through the thick wood and struck the man on the other side. An impressive shot even by my standards. He came alone, but if he didn¡¯t get back to his post soon others would come to check on him. I was running out of time to find Felipe and my mystery interloper.

    I hiked my knees and jogged up the stairs, stepping over the two men I shot earlier. I made extra sure to check the corners and angles wherein an attacker might be lying in wait for an ambush. Their progress on the first-floor sweep was poor ¨C they didn¡¯t expect Felipe to make it up here, which was why the only two gang members were dead at the top. Their job was to keep people away.

    A sound strategy until I gave them some new holes to breathe with.

    Even without people shooting at me there was no guarantee that I could find Felipe. The house was huge enough with one floor, but there was another of equal size to worry about and dozens upon dozens of small rooms. I started the unenviable task of knocking on every door I could find and declaring my presence. Door after door after door after door. I was going for fifteen minutes before I finally received a response from one of them.

    ¡°Maria?¡± Felipe said, ¡°Is that you?¡±

    ¡°I just said it was me. Why did you run up here?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to, it was Claudius. He came into the study and started making so much noise that I was afraid they were going to find us, so I had to come with him.¡±

    ¡°H-Hey, don¡¯t pin all of this on me!¡± Claudius replied.

    ¡°I should have known that you had something to do with this,¡± I complained, ¡°The door¡¯s not opening, did you barricade it with something?¡±

    ¡°Yes. We pushed the desk and blocked it so that they can¡¯t come inside. There are no windows either. I think we should be just fine,¡± Felipe explained. ¡°Would you like to join us, we can move it out of the way and let you inside?¡±

    I cut him off, ¡°No. I¡¯m fine. You two just stay here until the police arrive. They won¡¯t be able to ignore this commotion for much longer. I¡¯ll find somewhere else to take cover. Make sure that you stay away from the door! Put even more things in front of it if you can.¡±

    ¡°Okay, stay safe!¡±

    Claudius laughed, ¡°I think they need to hide from her.¡±

    Happy that Felipe wasn¡¯t in imminent danger of being murdered, I could refocus on finding Eidos and putting him down. Claudius was going to get an earful from me once this was over. Why did he have to interfere like this? The last spot they were in was perfectly fine. I moved away from their safe room before someone saw me standing beside it, but before I could get down from the upper floor I was met in the main corridor by the snarling mask of Eidos himself, now reinforced with an additional three men.

    ¡°Kill her, quick!¡±

    Thinking fast I dived for the nearest open door and flung it open as several bullets were fired in my direction. They wasted a lot of shots hitting nothing but the walls, only stopping when the smoke cleared and they discovered that I was long gone from their line of sight.

    ¡°She¡¯s a slippery one, I¡¯ll give her that.¡±

    I taunted him, ¡°How many more of your friends must I kill before you give up?¡±

    ¡°Shut it! I¡¯m going to make you pay for every drop of blood you¡¯ve spilt.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you¡¯re pretending to care after treating them like human shields.¡±

    Eidos figured out what I was up to, ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her. It¡¯s four on one ¨C there¡¯s no way she¡¯s getting out of there without us turning her into a colander.¡±

    ¡°I enjoyed your little light show earlier. Perhaps you should do it again, tire yourself out, and make this easy for me.¡±

    ¡°Keep running your mouth, little lady, and I¡¯ll make sure that¡¯s slow and painful for you!¡±

    All of this trash talk gave me time to scope out my situation. The room I stepped into was a tiny broom closet. They¡¯d ripped a hole through the door, which opened outwards to give the janitors more space to store their equipment and tools. There was nothing inside that was deadlier than the guns I already carried. But there were a few objects that I could use to create an opportunity.

    I grabbed a hefty jug of bleach from one of the shelves and gave it an underarm throw into the corridor. At the same time, I used the newly made peephole to line up my shot and fire back at the group. Their aim was trained on the bottle instead of me, and in that tiny period of distraction, I could take control of the initiative and send them running for cover. I pulled the trigger and fired, but the shot went astray and struck the wall next to Eidos.

    It still gave the intended effect. He and his men scrambled to hide around the corners and protect themselves from my counter-attack. I pulled the lever and chambered the next round, firing again through the plaster and hitting one of them in the back. The velocity was blunted by the wall between him and the bullet, but he tumbled down and was forced to back away to clutch his now bleeding side.

    ¡°Crap! She got me!¡±

    ¡°Just stay down, we¡¯ve got this,¡± Eidos barked. The entire corridor was obscured by a thick cloud of smoke. I maintained my position and carefully aimed my next attack. I couldn¡¯t cede control back to them now that I¡¯d played my hand. That trick only worked once. I watched closely as the group started to motion to each other, some kind of plan being hatched to try and take me out.

    ¡°Now!¡±

    Eidos and his friend stepped out simultaneously. I fired at the goon on the left and faded away before their return shots could hit me. I chambered another round and used the hole again, firing back. The fight descended into a clownish exchange of gunfire through a narrow corridor that neither could see into. The door was getting increasingly ruined by bullets taking away the wooden panelling, one of these stray bullets would hit me eventually if they had enough of them.

    I was out of rifle ammunition anyway.

    I threw it away and drew the revolver. At times like these, a ballsy play was the only thing I could rely on. Their positioning was better than mine. They could peel away and command my movement without exposing themselves in the process. This broom cupboard may be the site of my last stand.

    I moved away from the door and clung to the wall on the other side, firing blind shots through the smoke and keeping them pinned into place. Step back, shoot, step back, shoot. My ears were left ringing. I reached one of the junctions and slipped behind the corner to reload what I¡¯d spent getting out of the jam. This was the worst time to have unsteady hands.

    The guns fell silent.

    I could hear their boots pressing against the floorboards. One of them checked the closet and found it empty, ¡°She moved back. We¡¯ve got her cornered.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, let¡¯s try something else first,¡± Eidos said. A second later a smooth metal knife embedded itself into the floor by my feet. That smell was in the air again. I barely managed to get away before another thunderbolt struck the conductive object and sent sparks flying into the air. So that was Eidos¡¯ game...

    ¡°Let me tell you girl, taking a bullet is a lot less painful than getting hit by my bolt. It makes the skin and flesh peel from your bones! I get a kick out of seeing people cling to my trousers and beg for mercy!¡± I snapped the chamber shut and shook my head. He was one of those people, the kind of person who accepted shady crypto donations from an obvious police plant in a supermarket parking lot.

    The kind of man who took more pleasure in the act of killing than getting paid.

    ¡°Stop talking and start shooting. I don¡¯t like it when people see my face.¡±

 Chapter 36

    I would have enjoyed launching a volley of gunfire at my opponents in that moment, but I did not have the ammunition to spare. Having used four rounds to keep them away while I retreated into a better position, I was left with twelve. Whoever was organising this excursion into the unknown was being a seriously cheap asshole and skimping out on the bullets. I reloaded while they were too scared to come up on me. Eidos fired another bolt at his knife, but I was already too far away to fall for that trick.

    He couldn¡¯t do that too many times in the first place. He¡¯d already used his lightning magic three times. Even the best mages could only manage four or five before starting to feel the effects on their own body. It would start with fatigue, then sickness, loss of balance, and unconsciousness. If you were really stupid and cast a powerful spell at the last stage of magical deprivation it could kill you. Eidos was an idiot ¨C but relying on him crossing that threshold and killing himself was like hoping to win the lottery.

    But Eidos wasn¡¯t alone in having a handful of magical party tricks to use. I expanded my senses and entered the trance, spreading my sight beyond the physical. There wasn¡¯t much material for me to use offensively, and firing a bolt without a point of conduction to attract it would require even more focus, time and training that I didn¡¯t have.

    What I could do was manipulate the currents. A stray bullet had broken the window at the far end of the hallway, and now a stiff breeze was rolling through. The theory on this particular spell was as far as I got during my reading, but nothing forced a person to learn like immense pressure; enough to turn coal into diamonds. I was going to combine two simple spells into one complicated one. By extending the principle sense and combining it with draft manipulation, it was possible to sense the position of moving objects, or people in this case.

    I was already very proficient at utilising my extra senses, but I wouldn¡¯t describe myself as a prodigy as the teacher so often did. I struggled just the same as everyone else did, as I came from a world where no such magic existed. I had to get over two hurdles, one in which my previous persona refused to accept its existence, and the other being Maria Walston-Carter getting to grips with a complex set of rules and best practices that were woefully vague despite their emphasis.

    I needed to zone out from the noise and the smell of smoke, and keep a close eye on the way that the wind tendrils wrapped and deformed around what they encountered on the way. Easier said than done as they continued to fire recklessly down the hallway in an attempt to get lucky and hit me. Even an experienced killer could get startled by a loud gunshot when they weren¡¯t expecting it.

    Focus.

    I took a deep breath and submerged myself to the layer below the corporeal. My body was stretched outwards as my nerves realigned to come into a cordial symphony with the winds. My mind was carried on a strong current. I slid through the hallway, the smoke and the chaos. I brushed past the gunpowder and the corner at the top of the stairs, and there I felt the disruption of moving bodies. One of them was making a run for it, presumably to gather the rest of the men and launch a full-scale sweep of the manor.

    Eidos was idle, another was turning the corner.

    But I was already aiming at him, waiting for the moment that he exposed himself for another try. The gun pulled back on my arm. I shot before he could even comprehend what he was facing. It was almost too fast; in my eagerness, I almost hit nothing but thin air. The bullet ripped through his chest and sent him rolling down the stairs to his left. I snapped back to reality and returned to my previous position before Eidos could retaliate.

    Eidos noticed what I was doing, ¡°She just used magic! She shot him before he even got around the corner!¡± Felipe told me that talented mages could detect when another was using their magical senses. Eidos didn¡¯t strike me as the studious type, but he was well-read enough to know that I was using the currents to spot where they were hiding.

    ¡°Shit, what are we going to do?¡±

    Eidos didn¡¯t want to concede so easily, but he had no choice. His position was weaker and they¡¯d already blown through so much ammunition chasing me. He was making a serious gamble. Was I upstairs because it was where Felipe was hidden? Or was I merely seeking and destroying as many of his gang members as I could find?

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this, the police are going to be here soon!¡± Eidos yelled.

    ¡°Are we calling it?¡± his compatriot asked.

    Eidos delayed for as long as he could, but there was no saving this operation now. If a staff member hadn¡¯t called the police already, the noise coming from inside would surely attract attention. They¡¯d already lost so many men trying to get to Felipe, but the arrival of the police would ensure that every single one of them wouldn¡¯t get the chance to try again.

    ¡°Call it. Get the boys together, we¡¯re leaving.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t have sounded less enthusiastic if he tried.

    They scarpered away, grabbing the bodies of their friends and trying to drag them down the stairs with them. They quickly realised that it was a bad idea. They needed to get out fast and carrying a dead man with them was just going to slow them down. I charged after them and came out at the top of the steps, firing at them as they fled through the front door. My shots missed, ripping through more of the upholstery without causing any damage to my targets.

    I stared at the carnage for a second before breathing a sigh of relief.

    I couldn¡¯t justify chasing them into the garden. That was just asking for trouble. There were men hiding in the dark outskirts of the gardens with their guns at the ready. Now that the main threat was blunted and Eidos was beating a hasty retreat, I needed to preserve my cover. I took the gun and holster and wrapped it around the leg of one of the dead. Afterwards I returned to the bottom floor and rushed for the washroom. The man I bludgeoned earlier was still out cold, so I grabbed his body and shoved him outside into the corridor to deal with later.

    I was completely soaked with blood, sweat and dust. I grabbed a towel and wiped my arms, hands and face until they were clean. It would be easier to explain my lack of makeup than being covered from head to toe in viscera and gore. With that done and a convenient cover story in place, I exited the washroom just in time to see the doors burst open and several of the captives escape from the hall. I pushed past them and discovered that the rest of the gang had broken one of the windows and escaped without having to go through me.

    ¡°Where in Walser were you?¡± a voice asked. It was Max and Samantha. I acted fast to come up with a convincing lie and get them off my back. Start with the deflection, and then change the topic of the discussion.

    ¡°Hiding. What happened here?¡±

    Maxwell sighed and slicked back his dishevelled moss-green hair, ¡°If you¡¯re talking about those scumbags with the guns, somebody knocked on one of the windows and told them to clear out, so they broke it and ran. Is Felipe okay? They were demanding to know where he was.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s fine. He barricaded himself in a room upstairs.¡±

    Samantha smiled, ¡°Thank the Goddess for that.¡±

    ¡°What? Not worried about me?¡± I asked, more as a joke than anything.

    ¡°I get the impression that this wouldn¡¯t be enough to kill you.¡±

    The staff members were hard at work making sure that nobody was harmed, and soon enough they hauled my unconscious quarry into the hall with his arms and feet bound with rope. The police would have some serious questions for him about what they were planning, hopefully it¡¯d lead to clues about the identity of their employee. I stood at the back of the room with Samantha and took a moment to calm down. It was an intense fight.

    Not to blow my own horn, but holding off several men long enough for the police to arrive was one of my greatest feats yet. The odds were stacked against me ¨C but some good fortune and quick thinking saw me through to the end. This sort of large-scale battle wasn¡¯t my wheelhouse. I preferred to kill my target and be away before anyone knew I was there. It was safer that way.

    Having bruised some egos, killed some criminals, and successfully protected Felipe from their machinations, I was left to wonder about the consequences of this incident. The heightened level of security at the academy was already notable. Now there had been a second attempt on Felipe¡¯s life in as many months. Would the academy be forced to close its doors, or would Felipe be asked to step away from his schooling to protect the other students? That was ignoring the personal consequences for the Booker and Escobarus families. Rumour and innuendo were the number one pastime at the school. This story was sensational enough already.

    Everyone and everything would be blamed for their involvement, but the blame would ultimately lie with the undeserving. I wearily eyed Beatrice through the crowd and watched as some came to console her for such a traumatising experience. How long would that sympathy last? There were already angry faces in the crowd who believed that this event was too much of a risk to take.

    Ten minutes passed before Claudius and Felipe returned to the hall. He received the same display of mock condolences from his fawning admirers, but there were daggers hidden beneath those smiles. They would never pass up an opportunity to make noise about this. I wanted nothing to do with these silly games ¨C but my position as a reluctant queen bee at the academy meant that I was expected to have a strong opinion on it.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Felipe jumped up onto the stage and motioned for some quiet, ¡°Everyone, may I please have your attention? The police have just arrived at the manor, and they¡¯ll be checking the scene. If any of you are injured, please go to them and ask for aid.¡±

    If the police were here for the party, they were too late.

    I kept my silence and strolled back through the lounge to take my leave, certain that the worst of it was over with their arrival. The bodies were already being moved or placed under white sheets to protect the eyes of the innocent, though even with those measures it was still a gruesome sight. I did not envy the job of those who would be tasked in discerning what happened here. When I reached the bottom of the steps at the front of the house, Samantha was finally determined enough to catch up with me.

    ¡°Wait a second, Maria!¡±

    I stopped, ¡°What is it?¡±

    She stared at me, unsure of how to phrase her statement; ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay?¡±

    She repeated herself with flushed cheeks, ¡°I mean ¨C that was a really scary thing to go through, wasn¡¯t it? I know that you like to put on a composed image, but that doesn¡¯t mean you were calm about it.¡±

    ¡°There is no need to worry about me.¡±

    ¡°There may not be a need, but I would like to help you if that¡¯s possible.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°There are many more people who are both more deserving, and needier than I. I do not speak lies to you. I am just fine.¡±

    Samantha looked into my eyes and saw something that caught her interest. I didn¡¯t know what it was. ¡°You seem different to how you usually act,¡± she said, ¡°That¡¯s why I wanted to ask.¡±

    ¡°It would be very strange if I weren¡¯t a little shaken up by all of this, would it not?¡±

    Samantha didn¡¯t have an answer to that.

    <hr>

    ¡°It¡¯s so typical of you to wander off and get caught up in something like this,¡± Max said as Claude finally returned to his side.

    Claude was unusually sober about the situation; ¡°That was scary, I¡¯m not going to lie. I even saw some of the bodies from the shootout.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? That sounds awful.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t be forgetting it in a hurry,¡± Claude said with macabre humour, ¡°But... who was the one fighting with them? They were wearing the same uniforms as the rest of the attendants. It looks to me like they infiltrated the party by posing as guards.¡±

    Max was naturally disbelieving, ¡°You¡¯re saying that every single one of them was in on the plot?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, you were the one who witnessed what happened in here.¡±

    Max couldn¡¯t ignore the fact that the man at the head of the gang, and the rest of them who took part, were all supposed to be keeping an eye out for trouble. Claude¡¯s conclusion wasn¡¯t totally out of left field like they normally were. It was strange to imagine the Bookers stumbling their way into a situation like that.

    ¡°Okay ¨C so all of the people causing trouble in here were wearing the uniforms.¡±

    Claude nodded, ¡°And there were other people out there who weren¡¯t police officers too. I don¡¯t think that they were passing by and decided to help out. They must have been keeping watch.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going with this? I¡¯m waiting for the punchline.¡±

    Claude hesitated. Max was just going to pour cold water on whatever he came up with, but the intrusive thought wouldn¡¯t leave his mind no matter how credulous he attempted to be. There was only one person whom he saw during the ordeal, one who was armed with a gun and in the position to kill several of the men.

    ¡°I saw Maria while I was trapped out there, and she was carrying a gun.¡±

    Max¡¯s brow furrowed, ¡°You think she killed all of those people, on her own?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a theory!¡± Claude said defensively, ¡°But she had a gun, and she¡¯s a very good shooter as well. I know that it would be almost impossible to win a fight against this many people ¨C but if anyone can do it, she can.¡±

    Max shook his head, ¡°I¡¯d leave it to the police. They¡¯ll be able to figure it out.¡±

    It was better than how he usually reacted. Claude heard a thousand different admonishments about his theorising even when he felt it was undeserved. Max never gave him the time of day, he wished just once that he could be vindicated and show him that he wasn¡¯t messing around.

    ¡°Even if she wasn¡¯t the one who killed all of them, it¡¯s still weird that she was running around with a gun. Where did she even get it from?¡±

    ¡°Are you sure it was a gun?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I got a clear look at it and she seemed pretty mad that I figured it out.¡±

    Max grimaced, ¡°That¡¯s one girl you don¡¯t want to have going against you, Claude.¡±

    ¡°She was downright pleasant when we studied together.¡±

    ¡°So why do you keep accusing her of being a villain?¡±

    Claude pinched the bridge of his nose, ¡°I¡¯ll admit that I was getting ahead of myself back there. This is completely separate from that particular set of accusations.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, killing a bunch of people seems like a worse offence than being mean.¡±

    ¡°If she did it to protect the people at the party, I don¡¯t see why it would be such a big problem.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be pretty bad for her reputation, even if it were for a good cause,¡± Max replied. It would be seen as both barbaric and very unusual for a girl her age to do something violent, and even something like a physical altercation was enough to put a black mark of shame on some young nobles. He noticed that Claude looked out of it, ¡°Are you sure that you¡¯re fine? It must have been rather distressing to see those bodies. I got really shaken up years ago when we saw my Grandfather¡¯s body in the hospice, and he didn¡¯t suffer any injuries like they did.¡±

    Max could recall it in crystal clear clarity. His Grandfather had been suffering under ill health for many years by that point, even the most powerful healing magic and advanced technology couldn¡¯t keep him up and about under his own steam for long. Inevitably he¡¯d find himself with reduced mobility and various other health issues that prevent him from living comfortably. It was to be expected from a man who reached the age of eighty-seven.

    One day his Father came to him with news of his passing, and the family visited the place where he was under supervision to pay their respects. It shocked Max just how gaunt his form was by that point. Simultaneously bloated yet thin. His skin was covered with dark, angry bruises where he bled uncontrollably after making minor contact with solid objects in the room, but there was no colour in his face at all.

    It was entirely different to what he expected. Max was assured with images of dignity and stillness, but his body told a different story. He was a man who was fighting to his very last moments. Max was forced to step away from the room to keep his emotions under control. He stared at the floor until it was time to leave, even as other relatives arrived and spoke of the good memories that they shared with him. He knew that it wasn¡¯t disgust that he felt - it was distressing for a variety of other reasons. But part of him was glad to have witnessed it. For better or worse it was the last time that Max ever saw his Grandfather before he was buried. He felt that he would have regretted it had he not exposed himself to a small dose of reality.

    Claude looked uneasy as he described the scene, ¡°Well, it was a lot worse than seeing a deceased relative in bed. They were everywhere, bits of them torn to bits and strewn about. My Dad deals with things like this every day. What kind of detective would I be if I got all fussed up over a little blood?¡±

    It sounded like a lot more than a ¡®little blood¡¯ to Max. Claudius was stubborn by nature and wouldn¡¯t want to admit to something that contravened the image he was trying to present. It was frustrating to deal with but he¡¯d crack eventually and ask for Max¡¯s help. That was how it always went.

    The mood of the party had taken a serious turn now that the spectre of the hostage crisis was hanging over proceedings. It was unlikely that things would get going again now. The Bookers were going to be left with a big bill for a party that didn¡¯t last an hour before getting cancelled. Samantha returned to the hall and quickly located her friends.

    ¡°They let you out of here?¡± Max asked.

    She nodded, ¡°They¡¯ve covered up the bodies and rerouted people through the other door. I only caught a small glimpse of what they were doing.¡±

    ¡°Maria made one heck of a hasty exit. Did you see her leaving?¡±

    ¡°I tried to talk to her, but she wasn¡¯t interested. I think she spoke with one of the police officers about what she saw and then went back to her carriage.¡±

    ¡°Sounds about right.¡±

    Claudius poked his nose in, ¡°Did she seem suspicious to you?¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that she was suspicious, but I do think that she was affected by what happened here more than she likes to let on.¡±

    The police dropped by the hall and started working their way through the crowd. Every single person needed to be asked about the events of the evening, what they saw, heard, and if they were harmed. It was a long and arduous process that almost eclipsed the allotted time for the ball in the first place. Some were more distressed than others, but support from the adults ensured that a full picture of the incident was presented to the investigators.

    Once that was done, the people were dispersed and asked to leave the premises. Beatrice and Felipe were already gone by that time as they were key subjects for the police to interview and guard against any further attacks. The entire party had turned into a complete disaster because of an unseen conflict brewing at the top of noble society.

    ¡°Do you think that Beatrice is trying to get out of her marriage to Felipe?¡± one student murmured in a small huddle by the steps. Max had to use all of his restraint to stop himself from stepping in and chastising them for making such absurd rumours moments after a life-or-death situation. He hated that kind of talk more than anything else.

    ¡°I really hope they don¡¯t suspend school,¡± Samantha worried, ¡°Now that something even worse has happened, they might close the campus until they can arrange better security measures.¡±

    Max agreed, ¡°Or they could ask Felipe to stay away in a safe place, not that I want him to stop tutoring us in magic. They¡¯ll do whatever protects their bottom line the most even if it puts people in harm¡¯s way, anything to avoid closing up and losing out on the revenue our families pay.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a little different since I¡¯m on a scholarship.¡±

    ¡°But you still have to pay something ¨C and for a farming family like yours, it¡¯s still a huge part of your income.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were so well-versed.¡±

    ¡°Ah, my Father never shuts up about it. It¡¯s all about revenue and profit margins, and how much he can get by buying crops from one place and shipping them to another. Sorry to say, but he¡¯s very concerned about giving the farmers a big haircut too by undercutting their market prices.¡±

    Samantha recalled something along those lines, but her Father had ways of mitigating the impact of imported food. Recently there¡¯d even been talk of a farmer¡¯s union forming and playing hardball with the buyers to get a fairer cut. That was all above her level of understanding beyond the basics.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to take it personally. Who do you take me for?¡±

    Max shrugged, ¡°You¡¯re very opinionated when you want to be.¡±

    The trio watched as the boys and girls mounted their respective carriages and left the site into a wet and miserable evening. All three wondered if they should have been more disturbed by the events they were a part of. Now that they stood aside and took a second to breathe ¨C it seemed almost farcical. Samantha was already exhausted. The entire academy would be doing nothing but talking about it for weeks or months, relitigating every little detail or spreading idiotic theories about why it happened.

    All she could conclude was that Felipe was in serious trouble. While she didn¡¯t sport the same close relationship with him that Maria did, she was still extremely concerned about his safety. He must have been stricken like a statue, paralyzed by an ever-present paranoia. His life was in danger and people were actively trying to take it from him. It was something she wouldn¡¯t wish on her worst enemies.

    ¡°We¡¯d better head back, though I don¡¯t know if the school grounds are going to be kept open with all of this trouble.¡±

    Max led Samantha and Claude back to his family¡¯s carriage to join the rest of the student body. Answers would come in time, but they may not have been the ones they were hoping for.

 Chapter 37

    It was inevitable that the events at the party would cause a lot of trouble for the school. To have another incident happen in such close proximity to the one they were covering up blew apart whatever carefully laid plans they had in place to keep things calm. Suddenly, it was front-page news in every major paper in the district. Two attacks on a prestigious institution were kept out of the public eye to protect the faculty. Heads rolled ¨C the Headmaster resigned two days later and was replaced by Robert Engelbart, the senior teacher who gave me permission to leave the grounds a few weeks before.

    But the real problem was how they decided to treat Felipe. He was established as the leading cause of the problem and was suspended from school. It was seen as the easiest way to prevent another attack from happening, though it made it almost impossible for me to protect him during his day-to-day life. Beatrice assured me that his Father went above and beyond to hire the best-armed protection that money could buy, it seemed like they¡¯d learned a thing or two from the party and actually vetted them first.

    Extra security was also added to the academy. The single guard by the gate was assisted with the arrival of five active private security contractors. I made sure to check them out before going about my normal business, the last thing I wanted was for them to turn out to be members of the same gang as Eidos and the others. There was nothing amiss about them for the time being, but I was going to be vigilant from now on about anyone armed with a gun.

    The other, more pressing problem for the teachers and suits was that several families elected to pull their kids from the academy altogether. Our own class was not spared the culling as several of the students disappeared seemingly overnight and returned to their homes. Much to my chagrin, none of them were the people who caused me issues by trying to socialise with me. That would hit them where it really hurt, the wallet. On the other hand, some parents were dead set on making sure that their children graduated from the academy no matter what happened. The risk was seen as a worthy one.

    ¡°I heard that the teacher-parent meeting was acrimonious,¡± Max sighed from the row in front of me, ¡°They were worried that someone was about to throw a punch or two.¡±

    ¡°It makes sense considering that they covered up the whole thing. I would have been furious too. I can¡¯t believe they covered up another attack! I told you they were acting weird!¡±

    ¡°Alright, Claude ¨C I¡¯ll give you that one. You were right.¡±

    Claude pumped his fist into the air and cheered, ¡°Alright! You finally said it!¡±

    Max pulled him back to his seat, ¡°Calm down, the teacher¡¯s going to get mad.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. They¡¯re not even here yet.¡±

    It was nice to see the main trio remaining mostly unaffected by all of the deadly drama going on around them. I could only guess that they were important people in the future, that was the benefit of being a protagonist in one of these games. Samantha kept turning around and glancing at me, seemingly under the assumption that I couldn¡¯t see her doing it before I was buried nose-deep into a book. My peripheral vision was a lot better than that.

    ¡°Anyway, they¡¯ve banned organising big group events after what happened at the ball. The senior¡¯s graduation dance might be on the chopping block too,¡± Max grumbled, ¡°They¡¯re not going to be happy about that.¡±

    Miss Jennings burst through the door and put an end to the whispering.

    ¡°Apologies for being late everyone! I¡¯m sure that you¡¯ve all heard the bad news, Felipe won¡¯t be joining us for the time being ¨C so I¡¯ve had to make some adjustments to the lesson plans.¡±

    She poured a collection of miscellaneous papers and notes onto the table for later before turning to the chalkboard and scribbling down the itinerary for the day. There was a sharp intake of breath from the magic class as she stepped aside and revealed the dreadful truth. Not only were we starting the magical history module early, but we were also going to be doing so as a group project.

    ¡°I was hoping that we could continue our practical lessons with Felipe¡¯s assistance, but now that he is taking a leave of absence from the academy, I decided that it will be more effective for us to delve into a topic that won¡¯t require his help. Magical history is an important contextualization module where we¡¯ll learn about the development of the art and key figures in the world of magic.¡±

    This wasn¡¯t what Adrian wanted to hear. He didn¡¯t even have patience for the practical lessons as they were, being forced to endure a group scholarship project about history was liable to make the brain melt out from his ears. His frustration was made apparent very quickly and he huffed and crossed his arms in frustration. The rest of the class was decidedly more understanding about the problem she faced.

    ¡°But I think that this will be a lovely opportunity for everyone to get to know each other a little better. I¡¯d like you to work with those who you usually wouldn¡¯t. Adrian, I¡¯d like you to work with Samantha. Maxwell is with Margaret, and Talia, Maria and Claudius can be a trio.¡±

    Could be worse, I was thankful that I didn¡¯t have to deal with Adrian yelling into my ear for a week while we worked on the project. The seats were shuffled and I was soon joined by Talia and Claudius. Contrary to her intentions, I was already familiar with both of them on some level. Jennings approached each group and handed us a small piece of paper outlining what she expected from us. Our group was given Henry Snow, a pioneer in the field of industrial magic. My Father loved this guy. He had every book and study on his work you could physically buy, and some you couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°Henry Snow?¡± Claude muttered, ¡°I¡¯m not familiar with him.¡±

    ¡°He was an industrialist who came up with a lot of the magical processes that factories used before machines became widespread. He has a rather intriguing life story.¡±

    He turned to me, ¡°Oh, so you know a lot about him.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°Not everything. Don¡¯t rely on me to do all of the research for our group ¨C I tended to ignore my Father when he started extolling his virtues at the dinner table.¡±

    Talia laughed, ¡°Your Father talks about industrialists at the dinner table?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a verifiable workaholic. When he isn¡¯t micromanaging all of our businesses he¡¯s reading about how to be better at doing it.¡±

    Talia was strangely calm considering that her brother had almost been killed by armed gunmen a few days ago, but she was putting on a brave face for the sake of her family¡¯s reputation. The boys and girls at the academy were expected to behave in a way ¡®becoming¡¯ of their station regardless of how they felt. It could be tough to pry apart the defensive layers of a person¡¯s obligations to get to the heart of what was wrong.

    Claudius was happy with the hand he drew, ¡°You two are smart, this shouldn¡¯t be a hard project at all. All we have to do is put together a short presentation for the others.¡±

    A sneaky way of getting the students to practice their public speaking. A lot of them were anticipated to find jobs in commerce and politics after all; the curriculum was carefully constructed to ensure that they took in all of the essentials before they were let out into the wider world. It was a modern set of ideals for a school to utilise, so I couldn¡¯t complain about the intent. Many others still persisted in a rote repetition of facts and didn¡¯t consider tertiary skills like that.

    Adrian wasn¡¯t going to be happy no matter who he landed with because he was an anti-social dick at the best of times. Unlike me, who chose to keep people away, he was an easily angered bomb waiting to go off at any moment. Samantha was patient and well-meaning. However, being nice was liable to anger him just as much as insulting him directly. He had a lot to learn and an equal amount of maturing to do in the coming years. There were reasons behind his behaviour that I could understand but that didn¡¯t mean I wanted to be around him. He was unpleasant and far too loud for my taste.

    Nobody else in the academy knew what I did either. They weren¡¯t going to cut him some slack because their only perspective of him was where he was behaving at his worst. For now, he remained mostly silent while Samantha read through the assignment and tried to keep herself cool under his aura of pressure. He looked like an angry rottweiler staring at a pack of birds.

    ¡°Next week we¡¯re all going to come together and present a short speech on each of our subjects. Please make them ten to twenty minutes long. A list of suggested topics is included in the assignment sheet. A short history of the individual, their contributions to the magic sciences and a description of some of the spells that they discovered are great starting points.¡±

    Jennings told us a few other key details before moving into a normal lecture about some of the theory we needed to cover. Practical lessons were going to be much harder without a second pair of hands to assist. She¡¯d need some time to readjust her plans accordingly. When the lecture was done, Talia and Claude stuck with me as I stepped out of the room.

    ¡°We should get an early start on the project,¡± Talia said. I had to agree. Claude would completely forget to do it if we let him off his leash now.

    ¡°Yes. Shall we go to the study and begin our reading?¡±

    Claude groaned, but Talia wasn¡¯t playing around. She grabbed the back of his shirt collar and dragged him along with us.

    ¡°Why do we have to work with other people, wouldn¡¯t it be easier to study ourselves?¡± he griped ¨C echoing the thoughts of schoolchildren across every universe.

    ¡°It¡¯s about working as a team,¡± Talia replied, ¡°When you get a job, you¡¯re going to have to deal with a lot of different folks. You might not like some of them very much.¡±

    ¡°Are you speaking from experience?¡±

    ¡°My Mother is always complaining about the people at her company. I don¡¯t have a problem with you two if that¡¯s what you mean.¡±

    We reached the study and easily found an open table to stake our claim on. Even the students who were still at the academy were more isolated now. They were afraid that another attack would happen and that they¡¯d be the victims. It was an open secret that Felipe was the one being targeted, but that didn¡¯t stop the superstition from spreading like wildfire. Claudius immediately started staring at me as we gathered around and picked out our spots.

    ¡°Is something wrong, Claudius?¡±

    He stammered and clammed up, ¡°Ah. Nothing.¡±

    Talia was straight to the point; ¡°There¡¯s no need to walk on eggshells with me because of what happened to my brother. I know that both of you were there as well.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to bring it up while we were busy,¡± Claude replied, ¡°It would be rude for me to start barraging you with questions or talking about it when he was the one in serious trouble.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a little late to worry about that sort of thing now. Every single person in the academy knows about it.¡±

    Claude turned his gaze back to me, ¡°I was hoping to ask Maria about what she was doing during that whole incident.¡±

    Talia got in the way of his plan, that much was clear to me. I was only going to tell him what I told the police. I was hiding in a different room away from the chaos and didn¡¯t know who was responsible. I checked on Felipe and Claudius, and once the shooting stopped, I left and returned to the hall. It¡¯d be a cold day in hell when I let slip details about what I was really doing without being under duress. Claude saw me with the gun but it was easy for me to bat away any accusations of being the one responsible for the massacre in the lobby and library.

    There were more than a few benefits to being Maria. People didn¡¯t like questioning me, I looked pretty so they¡¯d be biased in favour of whatever I told them, and I was an influential noblewoman who could probably get away with genuine murder if I made the right implications to some important people. Claudius was such a dunce that most of that didn¡¯t register in his mind. He¡¯d already constructed a narrative about what happened that evening. Considering he was closer to the facts than anyone else, his methodology had some merit.

    ¡°Where did you even find that gun in the first place?¡± he posited.

    ¡°I know a thing or two about finding where people hide their weapons. Everybody does the same thing. Bedrooms, offices, and some people are negligent enough to leave them in the open.¡±

    ¡°You had a gun?¡± Talia gasped.

    ¡°Yes. I didn¡¯t use it. It was merely for self-defence.¡±

    ¡°A likely story,¡± Claudius smirked.

    ¡°Claudius ¨C you should know that there is a large difference between shooting a clay plate, an animal, and a human. To rob another of their life is the greatest scar that one can inflict unto themselves. It is never a decision to be taken lightly. I would only kill if it meant protecting myself or a large number of others.¡±

    That was a lie.

    ¡°And even if things came to that ¨C I would surely hesitate at that moment. The simplest answer I can offer is that I endeavour to avoid those situations so I need not make that decision.¡±

    And so was that. I threw myself into the path of that oncoming bus.

    My harsh words cut Claudius¡¯ questioning short. There was nowhere else for the discussion to go after that point, so I left the table and gathered every book I could find that mentioned Henry Snow. I recognized a few of them from my Father¡¯s personal collection. I brought the pile to the table and placed them in front of Talia and Claudius.

    ¡°This should be a good place to start. I can work on a rough outline of what we¡¯ll discuss, and then we can find more specific information in these books.¡±

    Talia smiled, ¡°Looks like Maria has it under control, as always.¡±

    ¡°Someone has to pull their weight, because Claudius won¡¯t...¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± he snapped back,

    I took a blank piece of paper and started to pencil down the bullet points that Jennings asked us to cover, ¡°I¡¯ll retract my statement if you can complete the day¡¯s work without opening one of those detective novels.¡±

    Claudius crossed his arms and harrumphed, ¡°Easy. You¡¯ll be eating those words soon enough.¡±

 Chapter 38

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even get to do much of anything. Talia and Maria were so fast in putting together everything we needed that it almost made my head spin,¡± Claudius complained as he, Samantha and Maxwell sat in his room after hours. He wanted to see how the others were getting along with their respective partners.

    Samantha was nervous about being put with Adrian, but he was much calmer when Maria wasn¡¯t around to rile him up. ¡°Things went surprisingly well, even if Adrian doesn¡¯t pay attention in class. I think I¡¯ll have to handle most of the work,¡± Samantha sighed.

    Margaret hadn¡¯t left much of an impression of Max while they were in class, and that form continued when he was alone with her. She remained silent while he picked through the books they needed and started to sketch out a rough outline of their presentation. ¡°Margaret doesn¡¯t talk to me. I guess I¡¯ll be doing the speaking when it comes time to present.¡±

    Claudius twiddled a loose pencil between his fingers, ¡°I asked Maria a few questions about what happened at the party, and she seemed pretty firm in stating that she had nothing to do with all of the criminals who got shot.¡±

    ¡°As expected. Just leave it there.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°You know what people are like in this academy, Claude. Even the slightest implication of impropriety is enough to whip people up into a fever. Maria won¡¯t appreciate you accusing her of gunning them down again and again.¡±

    ¡°I never said anything like that. She was outside of the room that Felipe and I were hiding in, and he told me that she was the one who rescued him and brought him to a safe place. That meant that she must have moved through the lobby between the start and the end of the gunshots. Is that not suspicious to you?¡±

    Samantha had never seen Maxwell¡¯s mood turn for the worse so quickly. The frown on his face was enough warning that Claude was treading into territory which he found upsetting. Claude, having the social graces of a deaf-blind person, continued on with his line of reasoning regardless. This was going to turn into an argument and she knew it.

    ¡°She¡¯s an expert at shooting as well. She has all the skills you¡¯d need to fight back, you shouldn¡¯t discount her because she¡¯s our age.¡±

    Max slammed his hand flat onto the table, ¡°You know how much I hate that kind of thing, Claude. Every time I tell you to stop doing it you just get even worse. Stop spreading rumours about people!¡±

    Claude was getting equally flustered, ¡°But I saw her walking past with a gun, with my own two eyes!¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean she ran out there and killed all those people!¡±

    ¡°Then who do you think did it? Nobody¡¯s come forward to claim responsibility and none of them saw anything.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Max snapped back, ¡°That¡¯s something for the police detectives to worry about. Why don¡¯t you stop playing these stupid games and focus on studying for once?¡±

    Samantha tried to stop them from shouting at each other, ¡°Okay, okay! Let¡¯s take a step back and calm down a little, please.¡±

    Max shook his head, ¡°No. I won¡¯t. He never listens to me, and he knows better than anyone else why I hate it. You just don¡¯t care.¡±

    He grabbed his things from the table and stormed out of the room before Claudius could answer back. Samantha was shocked by the intensity of the argument. Claude groaned, ¡°Oh boy ¨C I¡¯ve really done it now.¡±

    Samantha chastised him, ¡°Why do you never listen to what Max says? He was clearly uncomfortable with the discussion from the start but you kept going anyway!¡±

    There was a brief flash of regret on his features as he calmed down, but Claude¡¯s stubborn nature was getting the best of him. His immediate reaction was not to seek out his best friend and patch things over, but to dig his heels into the dirt and continue to claim that he wasn¡¯t doing anything wrong.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault that he¡¯s so sensitive. I¡¯m not spreading rumours for the sake of it. I think that something very weird is happening in this school, and if he doesn¡¯t want to see it, I¡¯m not going to mince my words to make it more palatable.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s Father always told her that a fierce argument was a sign of close friends, but she¡¯d never had a friend with whom she was willing to go at with such venom. Max¡¯s initial offence was rooted in something, but everything after that was the pair arguing for the sake of arguing. Neither one wanted to admit that they were wrong or overstepping each other¡¯s comfort zones.

    ¡°Are you sure that you saw what you claim you did? I¡¯m with Max ¨C it doesn¡¯t sound believable to me.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t matter if you or him believe my theory. I¡¯m going to get to the bottom of this on my own if I have to. We can see who the one in the right really is after the culprit is caught.¡±

    With the group¡¯s plans put on hold, Samantha decided to let Claude stew in his own decision-making. The mood in the room was so bad that Samantha was starting to feel like she was the one who was in the middle of their fallout. Claude didn¡¯t say another word as she took her things and returned to her own dorm room. In the corridor, Max was nowhere to be seen.

    <hr>

    He was in a furore. One could ordain to see the storm clouds that lingered above his head. Arguing with Claudius was nothing new ¨C the two had been friends for as long as they could remember, but it was for that exact reason that his stubborn streak infuriated him. His reasons were very personal, and Claude knew what they were already. So why did he continue to force the matter instead of staying silent?

    Occupied in his own world, he didn¡¯t even notice that I was standing right in front of him.

    ¡°You look happy,¡± I commented dryly.

    He snapped his head back up and met my eyes with a frustrated grunt.

    This was an event from the game, as far as I recalled. Claudius will have said something stupid to Maxwell and forced him to walk away in a huff. As Samantha, you could chase after him and score some brownie points for the effort. The exact reasoning behind the argument couldn¡¯t be guessed, but it was inevitably going to be motivated by something from Max¡¯s backstory.

    Max hated rumours.

    ¡°Is Claudius driving you mad again?¡±

    He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, ¡°How did you know?¡±

    ¡°You two do nothing but bicker whenever I see you. If you are in a foul mood, it is easy to assume that he¡¯s the one responsible.¡±

    Max shook his head, ¡°It¡¯s not entirely his fault. I worked myself up and blew up in his face again. I should have turned the other cheek and ignored it as I normally do. He¡¯s willing to put up with it when I do something that he doesn¡¯t like.¡±

    I furrowed my brow, ¡°To be friends means to compromise and accept things about the other that you otherwise would not. However, if Claudius refuses to respect a heartfelt request from you ¨C you have the right to be upset with him.¡±

    He chuckled, ¡°Since when did you become an expert in having friends, Ice-Queen? Talia and Felipe are the only people who¡¯re even allowed to get close to you.¡±

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Most others are trying to get something from me,¡± I responded, ¡°I have no need of people who see me as a resource to be exploited. There are many people out there who are better company than they could hope to be.¡±

    ¡°Claude keeps going on and on and on about how you¡¯re connected with all of the dreadful things happening at the academy lately. He goes through these cycles where he gets caught up in trying to accuse someone of being a criminal, and it always turns out to be dead wrong.¡±

    ¡°I am familiar with his pet theory. So long as it doesn¡¯t transform into anything more damaging than him playing games, I will not concern myself with it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re surprisingly forgiving.¡±

    ¡°Claude is the only one who gives those allegations space in his mind. It¡¯s simply too absurd for anyone else to accept.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t tell him that I was familiar with the reason behind his objections to Claude¡¯s behaviour. We were strangers. I knew that his Mother was divorced by his Father, and that an out-of-control plague of rumours started to swirl around him and his family. It affected him so greatly because he loved her dearly. To him that was the end of his family as a harmonious place to be as he liked. His Father was not a suitable replacement for the care and attention that his Mother once gave him.

    Claude was witness to all of that as it happened, yet even though he understood Max and why he hated that sort of behaviour, he persisted in doing so. From the perspective of someone playing a visual novel, it seemed nothing more than an excuse for petty drama and the regurgitation of exposition to fill in their characters. Having spent time with Claude as a real person instead of a portrait on a screen, it felt more real than contrived. People argued about stupid crap all the time. In the grand scheme of things, this was a comparatively serious debate between the two.

    ¡°There are already so many stories about me that I doubt Claude¡¯s even registers to most. A lot of them are patently false, and a rare few are even more absurd than accusing me of being a murderous gunslinger. I¡¯ve heard one girl who claimed that I was the reincarnation of the dark goddess.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty easy to conclude that based on...¡±

    I shot him a stare that stopped him in his tracks.

    ¡°Sorry, bad joke.¡±

    ¡°I can speak with him the next team our group assembles. An outside perspective is helpful in resolving these sorts of arguments.¡±

    He waved his hands, ¡°No, no. That¡¯s fine. It¡¯s something that I need to do on my own. I can¡¯t rely on your kindness when it¡¯s between me and him.¡±

    ¡°Very well. Please remember to pay attention to where you¡¯re walking in the future.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    We parted ways without him doling out his life story in the process. That was fine ¨C I already knew most of it. This sort of problem would get papered over and resolved with a flourish by Samantha soon enough. She was the protagonist, after all, the glue that held this tangled web of relationships and rivalries together. Though in that capacity I had rarely seen her executing some of the events and flags that the player normally would. Perhaps without the guiding hand of somebody else, she didn¡¯t have an interest in romancing any of them.

    I wracked my brain for the potential consequences of such a decision on her part. None of the ¡®bad¡¯ endings were particularly disastrous for her. It was possible to complete the game and resolve the core plot without picking any of the boys, though that took more effort than settling on one of them quickly. It was a careful dance between different conversation options and event outcomes to keep everyone balanced. The game could be ruthless in forcing you down a particular path towards the midway point.

    I was the one who stood to be worried about the outcome. Maria did not get a fair shake of things in most endings. Arrested, disgraced, or even killed ¨C she was inevitably disempowered and embittered for her next appearance somewhere deeper into the franchise. The saving grace was that I¡¯d specifically avoided doing the things that the real Maria did. I evaded ingratiating myself with the Prince, I defended Samantha from some of the bullies, and I wasn¡¯t locked in a battle for the affections of any of the male cast members.

    But the real Maria didn¡¯t have to worry about a violent criminal conspiracy working to kill another member of the school. As far as I could tell, it had nothing to do with me or my actions. This wasn¡¯t some sort of crazy butterfly effect kicked into gear by my arrival. Felipe and Beatrice were betrothed before I arrived at the academy. If I wanted to put an end to things, I would have to find evidence pointing towards the people responsible. The men I fought at the ball were tight-lipped about who was signing off on these attacks, or they simply didn¡¯t know that much.

    How could I finagle a list of past marriage candidates from Beatrice without appearing suspect? My best idea was to engage in some ¡®girl talk¡¯ and ask her about the other families who were vying for her hand. She wasn¡¯t at the school for the time being, so it would have to wait until she returned from her sabbatical. Since marrying her was the goal, I didn¡¯t dedicate myself to protecting her in the same way as I did with Felipe. If they killed her on accident there¡¯d be serious trouble on the horizon for them, and none of the promised payday when the son married into the Booker family.

    Having to deal with this and a group project was going to make my hair turn grey.

    <hr>

    Eidos returned to the dockside building where he worked with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. For many of the young men and women who were a part of the gang, it was a first. Eidos never showed any sign of weakness. He got results ¨C no matter what it took or how much heat he generated in the process. Instead of boastfully declaring his victory and promising a round of drinks for everyone on his tab, he skulked through the back door with several fewer men than he set out with.

    The recrimination from Erwin was no secret. The moment he stepped past the threshold and entered the office the sound of their voices shouting drowned out everything else.

    ¡°What do you mean you didn¡¯t get him? You were out there with twenty bloody men, and you were the only security on the property! If the buyer finds out about this there¡¯s going to be hell to pay.¡±

    ¡°He already knows, for the Goddess¡¯s sake, Erwin. It¡¯s in every damn newspaper from here to the coast.¡± Eidos flumped down into one of the chairs and covered his face in shame, ¡°Everything was going just fine. We had the entire place locked down tight, and we were looking for where he¡¯d run off to. But then one of the girls at the party got her hands on one of our guns and started running riot.¡±

    Erwin scowled, ¡°The Walston-Carter girl? I thought that was nothing to worry about.¡±

    Eidos laughed, ¡°No. Prier was right. There¡¯s something seriously odd going on in that academy. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it. She didn¡¯t break a sweat, running through the place and gunning people down left and right. I almost got hit a few times as well.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s just a teenager.¡±

    Eidos threw his gun onto the desk, ¡°That may be the case, but you know the truth already, you can put one of these things into the hands of a kid and they can kill someone with it. I¡¯m starting to think that they put her into that school to keep folks like us on notice. I wouldn¡¯t put it above those scumbags in parliament to train kids to be killers.¡±

    ¡°So what actually happened?¡± Erwin asked again ¨C uncertain of the events that led to their failure.

    ¡°As I said, we took control of the hall, got everything locked down tight on the inside and the outside. We were combing the place for him since it was so bloody big, but then Maria Walston-Carter shows up and starts blowing people away one after another. She managed to waste so much of our time that the police showed up and nearly caught us.¡±

    Erwin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

    ¡°All that time and effort, and the most public bash we¡¯ve ever thrown, and you didn¡¯t get the job done. Maybe you should stop flapping your gums and accusing everyone else of being full of it before you see the facts, Eidos.¡±

    Eidos averted his eyes and he bore down on him from behind his desk like a king. Erwin was every bit as sadistic as he was, and he was the one man who he wouldn¡¯t dare cross no matter what he said or did. He¡¯d formed this gang for a reason. He was the undisputed boss of the operation because he brought in the money. Part of it was his pragmatism. He could be cold and calculating when needed.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill her,¡± Eidos growled, ¡°She¡¯s dead. The next time I see her there¡¯s going to be no messing about.¡±

    ¡°We can kill him without her being around. You¡¯re already a wanted man because of what they saw, getting rid of her isn¡¯t going to plug the leak. We need to figure out where they took the Escobarus kid and make a new plan.¡±

    Erwin¡¯s mistake was presuming that Eidos was thinking rationally, but he was petty, vindictive and cruel first and foremost. The only thing he could focus on was the way that he was humiliated by a girl who was young enough to be his daughter. A girl who for all intents and purposes lived a sheltered life on a wealthy estate somewhere in the country. It wasn¡¯t just a shock that she had beaten him, it was an upset to the natural order. Eidos was streetwise and toughened by a hard life ¨C he should have been the winner with no questions asked.

    Eidos pushed his chair away and stood with a start, ¡°This isn¡¯t about the job, Erwin. It¡¯s personal. I¡¯m not letting some little scrote put one over on me and get away with it. You give the next job to someone else, I don¡¯t care ¨C but I want to be there so I can put one right between her eyes.¡±

    Erwin cracked his knuckles and looked down to a piece of paper that he¡¯d been writing notes onto. There were several different plans of action in the works, but he only expected to have the time to do one of them. The man who was paying for all of this was getting impatient. He needed to see results, not just a pile of dead bodies.

    Prier leaked a lot of information to the gang about what the academy was planning for the near future. Some of them were long-standing traditions for the students, like a trip to the House of Parliament for a tour and a speech from a sitting member. They¡¯d be remiss to cancel such an occasion even under such duress.

    But an attack there would be a cut above any of their previous attempts.

    He chuckled to himself as Eidos marched out of the office and headed off to cool down. It was a good thing that the man on the other side was offering enough money for every single one of them to start a new life of comfort somewhere else. When he put it like that ¨C it didn¡¯t sound like such a bad idea.

 Chapter 39

    Samantha dreaded her second meeting with Adrian Roderro. The first was a piece of suspense that even the most terrifying horror novels couldn¡¯t match. She felt like she was walking a tightrope, waiting to say the wrong thing and have him blow up at her or stomp away in a furious rage. No such thing happened, but the tension hung heavy over the study table for the entire session.

    Even Samantha¡¯s legitimate interest in the topic of their project, agriculturalist and civil rights activist Clarine Klaussner, couldn''t paper over the issues she had with him. His explosive temper and ill manners meant he argued with everybody, no matter what. He¡¯d insulted Claude and Max several times before for no good reason.

    Samantha focused on trying to get as much work done as possible within the hour so she could leave and be with better company. Adrian rarely had anything to offer for the presentation plan, aside from nodding and accepting various pieces to practise and recite to the class. Samantha placed the book down on the table and finally spoke up; ¡°Is there anything you¡¯d like to add, Adrian?¡±

    He shrugged, ¡°You seem to have the whole thing under control. I thought you didn¡¯t want any of my input.¡±

    ¡°I never said that ¨C this is a team project after all. You didn''t seem very interested in having your say before.¡±

    Adrian rolled his eyes, ¡°I¡¯m not much of a reading type. I get why you didn¡¯t ask me anything. You must think I¡¯m some kind of raging bull.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s farm-girl honesty was on display, ¡°I do. You¡¯ve done nothing but pick fights since we started the year. Don¡¯t you get tired of always doing that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a problem with you.¡±

    Samantha wanted to fire back by saying that it very much seemed that he did have a problem with everyone. He was extremely abrasive even when matters didn¡¯t call for it, the farmers in her home town were more welcoming than him ¨C and they had a bad reputation for getting into all sorts of trouble with outsiders. Adrian could shoot a glare that immediately started problems, rather than ending them like Maria¡¯s did.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to imply that we have such a hostile relationship,¡± Samantha said calmly, ¡°It¡¯s just odd. Why do you have such a negative reaction to Maria?¡±

    Adrian scowled, ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I? Maria goes out of her way to make my life as difficult as possible! I can¡¯t even enjoy the art of shooting for sport without her crashing the party and making me look the fool. My Father threatened to pull me from competitions with her because he hated the sight of me losing.¡±

    Samantha nodded in understanding, but she got the distinct impression that Adrian himself wasn¡¯t aware of the full meaning of his words. It was a story that many of the noble children at the academy shared. Parents who were filled with expectations and who externalised their unfulfilled ambitions onto them. Adrian¡¯s short temper was presumably a result of his Father¡¯s behaviour. Adrian sounded like a gracious runner-up when he spoke with Samantha in private, but his actions said otherwise.

    ¡°I told him that it would be an even greater humiliation to turn tail and run whenever she showed her face. As much as we don¡¯t get along, her skills with a gun are no joke. I tried to turn my mind away from that competitive nature and enjoy the game as it was, but it¡¯s difficult when Maria makes such a show of things.¡±

    Samantha fiddled with her pencil, ¡°Maria isn¡¯t a showboat. If anything, she seems to shy away from being in the spotlight.¡±

    Adrian huffed, ¡°That¡¯s the problem! Because she never shows her hand to anybody, they¡¯re free to project whatever values and legends they want onto her.  She¡¯s the school¡¯s number one idol because she keeps away from others, a blank canvas for them to play with. It doesn¡¯t help that she seems naturally talented at everything she takes on.¡±

    She quickly cut to the point before the discussion headed out into the grievance-ridden weeds, ¡°I don¡¯t think that Maria cares so much about antagonising you. She only does this when you speak with her first. That¡¯s the same thing she does to everybody else.¡±

    Adrian sat back down from his forward position and crossed his arms again. Was it going to make him happier imagining that Maria didn¡¯t care about him at all? So much of his effort and self-worth were tied to beating her. Her not caring about that made him feel even angrier. Training his shooting skills obsessively, he¡¯d never even gotten close to matching her best scores. The only time he succeeded in dethroning her was two years ago while she was stricken with an illness. Once it cleared up ¨C she went right back to dismantling him as if nothing happened. One victory was nothing to Adrian. He wanted to prove that he was consistently capable of winning.

    ¡°As if a country girl would understand the pressure I¡¯m under,¡± he said dismissively. It was too petty for Samantha to feel insulted by. Adrian was trying to worm his way out of arguing his perspective by throwing out vague platitudes. ¡°I¡¯m the heir to our house, I¡¯m expected to be at the top of my game at all times.¡±

    ¡°But your grades aren¡¯t very good,¡± Samantha replied pointedly.

    ¡°My grades don¡¯t matter until our year-end exams. Everything until then is merely practice.¡± Samantha was certain that he wasn¡¯t doing any practice like he claimed, his preliminary grades would have been better if he did.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Maria has a lot of responsibility to worry about too. That¡¯s why she keeps herself out of trouble and her nose tucked firmly between the pages of our workbooks.¡±

    Adrian shook his head, ¡°Her Father is more lenient than mine. The way she was admitted to the shooting society, she must have begged and pleaded with him until he cracked. She was nearly thrown off her damn feet the first time she pulled the trigger. How did a hapless girl like her start sweeping every contest in just a few months?¡±

    Samantha was too focused on writing down her notes, ¡°Cheating?¡±

    ¡°Maria wouldn¡¯t stoop to that - and I¡¯ve seen her do it first-hand. There are very few ways to cheat in a shooting competition. They¡¯ve seen all of those tricks before and will spot them right away. It¡¯s a pure, untainted sport! The only measure of victory is speed and accuracy.¡±

    Samantha highly doubted that. Even the most skill-based disciplines could suffer from match-fixing or other unhanded tactics. She allowed Adrian to have his moment on the podium before drawing his gaze back down to the paper they were writing onto.

    ¡°Do you really have nothing to add? What part would you like to read?¡±

    Adrian deflated and sat back down as his grand speech was ignored, ¡°I don¡¯t know, just split it down the middle. I¡¯ll read the second half and you can do the first.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d know if you listened to what I was saying when we were putting the presentation together,¡± Samantha griped, ¡°But I suppose that is the easiest way to handle things.¡±

    Adrian was happy to let Samantha handle all of the boring grunt work. He never found the theory lessons to be interesting, and it was even worse when the teachers tried to drill the importance of long-dead people into their heads. What good would knowing about someone already buried six feet under do for him? If they were so important ¨C why didn¡¯t he know about them already through osmosis?

    Samantha finished with one of the books and reached over to grab another, ¡°Did you see anything interesting at the Booker¡¯s party?¡±

    Adrian laughed derisively, ¡°Aside from a gang of armed thugs forcing their way into the hall? No, not particularly. I wonder what in the Goddess¡¯ name her Father was thinking hiring that uncouth lot. They had the smell of trouble all over them.¡±

    But not enough to raise his suspicions, Samantha replied in her head. It was so easy to posit that you would have done the right thing in someone else¡¯s shoes. Samantha spoke with Beatrice about it, and according to her the men came with a personal recommendation from one of his top men; that same person was now under investigation for being a part of the assassination plot.

    ¡°If I was there with a gun, they wouldn¡¯t have a prayer of getting out of that mansion in one piece,¡± he boasted.

    ¡°If you started a gunfight in the hall more people would have been hurt,¡± Samantha frowned.

    Adrian¡¯s cocky grin faltered and he sank back down onto his seat with a dismissive shrug, ¡°And how did you know that they weren¡¯t going to just start killing people? They looked like bad news. The only reason nobody was hurt was because the police showed up.¡±

    ¡°People did get hurt. There were bodies everywhere.¡±

    ¡°Whatever, that¡¯s what they get for trying to do something so horrible. Don¡¯t wave a gun in someone¡¯s face if you aren¡¯t ready to be on the receiving end in return.¡±

    It was callous, but Samantha couldn¡¯t pretend that this mindset was exclusive to him. Her Father was very zealous in protecting their property from thieves and vandals, and so were many of the other farmers in her community. It was an old-fashioned kind of justice, a system of crime and punishment that was simple and fast to dole out to any who were caught red-handed. Samantha was raised in a generation where people were taught to rely on the police instead. Mob justice could only go so far and sometimes it made mistakes. A cursory investigation of the crime cut down on the number of false accusations significantly. But you couldn¡¯t take the bullet back after it was fired, not unless the target was undergoing an autopsy.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Adrian took things a step further, ¡°If I met the person who did that ¨C I¡¯d shake their hand for a job well done.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to be so callous about it.¡±

    Samantha imagined the hypothetical meeting. Her mind filled in the blank space where the shooter stood with Maria, thanks to Claude¡¯s endless babble about how she was responsible and suspicious and what have you. Adrian would bust a blood vessel if the supposed object of his admiration turned out to be her. She did have the gun skills to match, and if Claude wasn¡¯t just seeing things on the day...

    Samantha stopped herself ¨C why was she starting to come around to his insane theories? This was the girl she was trying to befriend for goodness sake! Not that she¡¯d made any progress on that front. Maria was an elusive quarry, always slipping away at the end of lessons and isolating herself to quiet areas of the academy so nobody could disrupt her studies.

    Samantha was so swamped with work, studying, and recovering from the prior that she could hardly find time for herself anymore. She envied Maria¡¯s ability to take things in stride and get everything done in a timely manner. She needed to open up a window of opportunity and get close to her. She missed her chance when Jennings paired her with Adrian. She wanted Maria, that would have made life so much easier. She couldn¡¯t run away to the darkest corner of the campus when they needed to work together on their presentation.

    Samantha continued reading and found a line that interested her; ¡°Oh, it says here that Clarine really loved cats and owned several of them.¡±

    It was the most excited she¡¯d seen her project partner all day. Adrian¡¯s eyes lit up like fireworks as he leaned over to try and get a look, only to discover that there were no images showcasing her feline friends. Samantha stared a hole through the teenage boy as he slowly returned to his seat with an awkward cough and a follow-up question.

    ¡°She did?¡±

    Samantha groaned, ¡°Why is that the only part you listened to?¡±

    Adrian was defensive, ¡°There¡¯s nothing weird about liking cats.¡±

    ¡°I never said there was. I just wish you¡¯d get excited for the rest of this stuff as well.¡±

    She really struggled to get a handle on him.

    <hr>

    Fernando Escobarus cut an intimidating figure. Amongst the other nobles of the nation, he stood apart thanks to his tall stature and gaunt features. A bushy black moustache concealed his frown from outside observers. He was not a happy man, not after his future business partner inadvertently invited a gang of killers to guard his daughter¡¯s ball. If not for the intervention of an unseen hero, things could have ended in total disaster. It didn¡¯t need to be said that the arranged marriage between their children was in danger.

    He couldn¡¯t understand why Geoffrey passed over taking a second look at the men he hired. Whether it was negligence or deception from one of his attendants, there was still no excusing the outcome. Felipe nearly died ¨C they were moments away from finding him and doing Goddess knows what. Felipe sat across from him with his arms folded into his lap. He¡¯d pulled his son from the academy until he could be certain that he was safe from further attempts on his life.

    He snuffed out his cigar, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that your marriage to Beatrice is in jeopardy.¡±

    Felipe shook his head, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m seriously reconsidering whether it¡¯s worth the risk. There may be a lot of money on the table between Geoffrey and I, but there are some things that money cannot replace. My Father always told me that I should prioritise my family above all else. Now I see why he said those words to me. I can¡¯t bear the thought of you dying during my lifetime.¡±

    Felipe cut to the heart of the matter, ¡°That¡¯s what they want you to do. That¡¯s why they attacked the ball, that¡¯s why they¡¯re trying to kill me. You could make this much easier by telling me who was fighting for Beatrice¡¯s hand back then.¡±

    ¡°And what would you do with that information exactly? It would be more prudent for me to name the people who weren¡¯t interested in organising a marriage with her. The Bookers are, for better or worse, the big prize in the eyes of many.¡±

    ¡°So big you were willing to make me a Booker too.¡±

    Fernando sighed, ¡°You¡¯ll always be my son - no matter what name you may end up taking. I want what¡¯s best for you. Your older brother will be inheriting my position one day, and I¡¯d like you to enjoy some level of freedom and influence apart from him.¡±

    Felipe bowed his head, ¡°Sorry. I was lashing out. I appreciate it. Beatrice and I get along very well, which is why I cannot abide by the thought of breaking our arrangement. I am grateful that we were able to meet.¡±

    His Father smiled and turned to the family portrait that hung on the wall of his home office. There were several such paintings within the house covering the long history of the Escobarus clan. Some were painted back in their home country hundreds of years ago and were extremely valuable in their own right, but Fernando and no self-respecting family head would be willing to part with them. It catalogued the extensive history of their relatives and kin. The latest contained Fernando, his wife, and their three children, alongside his brother and family.

    They certainly weren¡¯t at the peak of their number. An unfortunate series of deaths had thinned their ranks in recent years, though the birth of Felipe and Talia promised a brighter future than was imagined two decades ago. Felipe understood full well how much he cared for the family.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if the Royal Academy is a safe place for you to be.¡±

    Felipe objected, ¡°The Booker¡¯s manor was a safe place until it wasn¡¯t any more. How can you be so confident that the same thing isn¡¯t going to happen here? I will not allow myself to be forced into a cage by these mad killers. I must return to the academy at once and finish my schooling.¡±

    ¡°I know that I was the one who sent you there, but would a simple delay of your graduation not serve both our purposes?¡±

    Felipe gritted his teeth, ¡°I promised Beatrice that we¡¯d graduate together.¡±

    Fernando exhaled and turned to his young, foolish son; ¡°Ah. You know exactly how to play me like a fine instrument, don¡¯t you Felipe? A promise is not something to be wielded like a weapon.¡±

    ¡°You always told me that I needed to stand up and be proud of my family name. I¡¯m not going to hide from this, and I¡¯m not going to make Beatrice go through the last years of our education alone. That¡¯s a promise I am willing to die for.¡±

    Fernando considered his words for several minutes in silence. It was a great risk to send Felipe back to the academy after a previous attack was handled so poorly by the staff. Fernando was so outraged by the news that he almost commissioned a trip to the campus so that he could give them a piece of his mind. It was a sight to behold, his face reddened and his eyes quivering. None of the house attendants had ever seen him in such an incandescent mood.

    Felipe was the only one who managed to calm him down again.

    But he couldn¡¯t accept Felipe¡¯s claim that he was the one who was trying to avoid worrying him. He didn¡¯t understand how the game was played or what the motivations of the campus heads were. They were primarily interested in maintaining the flow of revenue they generated from tuition fees. It backfired. The coverup only accelerated the exodus of parents and their children from the school. The ones who remained were willing to risk their health for a world-beating qualification. It was difficult to blame them for sticking with it. They¡¯d dedicated years of their lives and a hell of a lot of money.

    ¡°Very well. I will allow you to return to the academy, but I¡¯d like to speak with the Headmaster personally and ensure that their security arrangements are effective. My decision will be based on what I see once we are there.¡±

    Felipe saw it as a level-headed compromise, ¡°Thank you, Father.¡±

    ¡°But I am worried about how the police are handling things. They haven¡¯t made much progress with their investigation at all, even with a captured suspect to question.¡±

    ¡°They keep you abreast of developments?¡±

    ¡°Of course. As the Father of the intended victim, they are dispatching letters with their progress to me.¡± He motioned to a small pile of papers that had been tucked onto the left side of his desk. Picking one from the top, he flipped it around to show Felipe. ¡°According to the police ¨C the man they apprehended claimed to know nothing of the person who initiated the scheme. They could only confirm that you are their target.¡±

    Felipe frowned, ¡°It does worry me greatly, but to live in fear is not my aim. I feel that this self-imposed isolation is what they want. I would feel safer surrounded by the other students.¡±

    His Father assigned a personal guard to Felipe while he was in the house. He was to be accompanied by no less than two people, and they were not permitted to enter any rooms with him. To know that they were capable of slipping their members into the hiring process was a serious problem. Fernando was thankful to have such long-term employees on his roster. He could trust them to some extent.

    Felipe took the letter and inspected the dry prose for details. It was all very clinical and official sounding, with the police apologising to Fernando for not yet having the news he was hoping for.

    ¡°I think Claudius may be in with a better chance of finding the truth than them,¡± Felipe joked.

    ¡°Claudius? The Wile¡¯s boy? I think his Father is involved in the investigation.¡±

    ¡°Does he talk about him often?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve shared a few drinks, but I wouldn¡¯t say that he¡¯s a close friend.¡±

    Felipe placed the paper back onto the pile and stood from his chair, ¡°I will take my leave for now. Thank you very much for listening, Father.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet. I might still not be happy with how they decide to keep you safe while on their property. I have half a mind to send some men of our own to make sure things are kept under control.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe they¡¯ll allow outside guards into the buildings.¡±

    Fernando grumbled, ¡°They will once I get my hands on them...¡±

    Felipe bowed and left the office. He straightened out his ruffled waistcoat and walked down the long, tiled corridor of his family home. The Escobarus family were not trend chasers. Felipe¡¯s Grandfather built this house in the style of their country of origin, complete with flat roofs, white, organic-looking walls, and high wooden-arched windows. A few Walser touches allowed it to blend into the environment gracefully. It was a taste of a home that Felipe never knew. He was born and raised in Walser ¨C and couldn¡¯t recall the last time they visited Derengall. Without family on that side of the strait, there was no reason to go anymore.

    The only thing he wanted from his Father was an assurance that he could visit the Academy again. Felipe had little faith in the school¡¯s staff after the coverup of his first attack, but his desire to see the end of his education there outweighed those concerns. Fernando always emphasised the importance of promises. Felipe promised Beatrice that they¡¯d walk down the aisle together and accept their qualifications, that would presumably be followed by walking down a very different kind of aisle as they came of age.

    This house, once warm and welcoming, felt more like a prison with every passing day. Being at the royal academy gave Felipe a taste of something he never knew he wanted. To be deprived of his independence now was a terrible feeling. It was the place where he could be himself without having to worry about his Father looking over his shoulder. It was where he¡¯d delved deep into his love of the magic art, something which his Father was starting to wane on.

    Felipe made it clear that he was only doing it because he enjoyed it. The market for skilled mages was consistently contracting every year, with new machines arriving to spread equity of production across industries and borders. Fernando was always motivated by the utility of any one decision or effort. Felipe only won the debate when he pointed out his Father¡¯s attachment to the portraits that lined the hallways of their house. They served no clear purpose ¨C yet he was emotionally attached to them all the same.

    Life couldn¡¯t be nought but work and worry. Fernando was in a tough position as the head man of the family. He¡¯d struggled through some of their darkest years, trying to protect their businesses and ensure that enough children were being born to carry the name forward. That time had passed now, but he hadn¡¯t completely shed the hardened shell that formed around him. He was wealthy and surrounded by company, but remained unable to enjoy it in the ways that he should.

    Call it a rebellious phase he may, but Felipe wasn¡¯t going to make the same mistake and forget to enjoy himself a little. The first step of his plan was in motion. He just needed to convince him that it was better to remain at the academy instead of hiding in the family house until the culprits were apprehended.

    [author] Get five early chapters for $2.50, seven for $5, and ten for $8.50 by joining my Patreon campaign below (4k Words per chapter.)[/author]

 Chapter 40

    ¡°...Unfortunately, Henry Snow was unable to see the final outcome of his hard work, as he passed away at the age of sixty-four just before the completion of his final project. The impact he left on industry around the world can still be felt today, allowing for previously unthought-of methods to be utilised by a wider range of businesses and individuals.¡±

    I closed out the last part of our presentation, summoning a polite round of applause from the other magic students. Miss Jennings inspected the final cue card with an approving nod; ¡°What a well-considered presentation, thank you, everyone. You can return to your seats.¡±

    We cleaned up the mess and sat down in the front row. Everyone had successfully delivered their lectures on each historical figure and surpassed her expectations at the same time. She was planning on offering further elaboration on areas that we missed, but there was no need for such thorough explorations of each persona and what they did for the field of magic.

    ¡°I¡¯m very impressed with the hard work you all did for this task. I even had some notes of my own for areas I thought you¡¯d miss ¨C but I didn¡¯t need to use them! It¡¯s safe to say that you all get a passing mark, and I hope that you managed to get closer to your classmates in the process.¡±

    If that was the criteria we were being tested on, it was better for me not to say anything. I only did the bare minimum to get through the process, reserving most of my discussion for matters related to the lecture. Claude was a little put off by the way that I acted around him and Talia, but she was used to it by this point.

    Samantha and Adrian made an unexpectedly good team. It was the first time that I¡¯d seen him put any effort into his schoolwork. He was a talented public speaker with amazing voice projection. It was a shame that his short temper meant that those skills seldom found use.

    ¡°As you can see ¨C the use of magic is very important to Walser and has been for thousands of years. There are many different paths that lay before you, and while it¡¯s easy to predict the end of magic as a common tool, it may well be that one of you will someday make a great discovery as they did, one which will bring it back to prominence all over again.¡±

    There was a loud knocking on the door.

    ¡°Come in!¡±

    It swung open and the last person I expected to see stepped on through. It was Felipe, who had a smile that threatened to split his face in two.

    ¡°Felipe? I didn¡¯t expect you to be back so soon!¡± Jennings gasped. She hurried over to his side and got a closer look as if she were expecting him to be covered in grievous injuries.

    ¡°We just got back to the academy, and since it¡¯s that time of day I decided to swing by and see how everyone is doing. Getting the boring work out of the way while I¡¯m absent?¡±

    ¡°Boring is a matter of perspective,¡± she tutted, ¡°But yes, I¡¯ve been forced to change the lesson plan since you disappeared. I take it that you have good news for us?¡±

    ¡°I convinced my Father to readmit me to the school,¡± he revealed. Everyone in the room was overjoyed to hear it, none more so than Miss Jennings herself. She was extremely stressed by the uncertainty, and none of the other students in his year were available to take his spot as the teaching assistant.

    I wasn¡¯t so sure if it was a done deal. The school was faced with a lot of controversy over how they handled the attempt on his life, and there would be demands made of the staff to ensure his safety. I wouldn¡¯t trust the guards at the front gate as far as I could throw them. Almost every time I caught a glimpse of one of them they were slacking off or not paying attention.

    ¡°That¡¯s wonderful! I¡¯d feel terrible if you were prevented from graduating next year because of what somebody else did.¡±

    ¡°I understand why my Father is so worried, but I can¡¯t live in fear of what may or may not happen while I¡¯m at the academy. I¡¯m sure that they won¡¯t allow anything like that to happen again.¡±

    His eyes momentarily turned to me as he said it.

    With Felipe¡¯s big reveal and the presentations delivered, the class was dismissed a few minutes early. I stepped out of the room as a veritable mob of people swarmed around him to offer their condolences and greetings. I didn¡¯t want any part in them. I couldn¡¯t blame Felipe for coming back to the academy when his future depended on it, but I also believed that it was the wrong decision to make. There were more people here to witness any potential attack, but that came with its own risks. Eidos didn¡¯t seem concerned about being identified when he took the party hostage. What was to say that the next person wouldn¡¯t be the same?

    I sighed and moved in the direction of my room, only to be stopped by Felipe¡¯s voice calling out to me from the doorway. The others watched curiously as he hurried over to me and pulled me aside.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t get a chance to speak after what happened at the ball. I just wanted to thank you for risking yourself to keep me safe.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do that much,¡± I replied plainly. With so many open ears nearby, I didn¡¯t want to reveal any details of what actually happened.

    ¡°I was very disorientated when that man attacked me by the washroom. There¡¯s just one thing I don¡¯t understand. You told me that he ran away, but later they found him unconscious in the bathroom.¡±

    I almost broke out into a cold sweat. Crap ¨C this was a detail that I hoped he was gracious enough to look over. He must have been given an account of the crime scene by his Father once everything was cleaned up. I was the one who dragged him in there and smashed his head against the sink. I kept my face from twitching and just shook it off. The best thing to do was plead ignorance or imply that I was confused about the order of events.

    ¡°Odd. I cannot say for certain how these people behave, but I¡¯m certain that he ran away when he saw me emerge from inside.¡±

    Felipe wasn¡¯t going to question his ¡®saviour¡¯ without good reason. My simple rebuff of his observation was all he needed to hear to reaffirm his trust. He laughed, ¡°I suppose he hid away in there once the police arrived. Still, you remained cool-headed even as everyone else was starting to panic. I would have stormed into that hall and gotten myself killed if it weren¡¯t for you.¡±

    ¡°Being just is one thing, but you should always remember that people are motivated by specific reasoning.¡±

    He nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    ¡°Does Beatrice know you¡¯re back?¡±

    ¡°She does. Beatrice was the first person to know that I was returning.¡±

    ¡°Hm. I¡¯m glad that you are well, if only so we can avoid the future indignity of more group projects.¡±

    He rolled his eyes, ¡°Dishonest as always. You just can¡¯t make your tongue admit that you¡¯re happy to see me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m nothing but honest,¡± I responded, ¡°It¡¯s just that people don¡¯t listen, or infer the wrong conclusions from what you say. So long as they don¡¯t interfere with me the best action is to leave them alone. Denials are merely veiled affirmations to some.¡±

    ¡°You always send my head for a loop with this philosophical talk.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not philosophy, it is merely an observation about the way that others behave.¡±

    We were interrupted by Samantha and Claude, who emerged from around the corner to see what was going on. Claude was as ever quick to ask probing questions without worrying about his manners, ¡°What are you two talking about?¡±

    ¡°I was just thanking Maria for giving me a hand during the incident.¡±

    That reminded me of something. Claude took Felipe out of the room that I¡¯d left him in and took him skipping around the manor when there were still armed gunmen everywhere! I scowled and got into his personal space, jabbing at his chest with my finger.

    ¡°I have something to say to you, Claudius. Why exactly did you think it was a good idea to start running around the manor when Felipe was in such danger?¡± I demanded. Claudius was more surprised to hear my voice changing from my usual dispassionate tone to one of anger than being called out on it. I¡¯m sure that it was a novel sight for all three of them to have Maria Walston-Carter burst her top like this.

    ¡°I-I just thought that it would be best for us to move to the upper floor, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°And what would you have done if someone found you and shot you?¡±

    He would have died, for one thing.

    ¡°It turned out okay in the end! You can¡¯t get mad at me when...¡±

    I cut him off, ¡°I can get angry with you. You placed yourself and Felipe at risk for no good reason. Don¡¯t you have an ounce of self-preservation in that empty head of yours?¡±

    Samantha allowed Claude to endure my scathing criticism because deep down she agreed with it too. Claudius was always so eager to leap into whatever interested him that he never considered the risks associated with it. He stammered out some half-formed words, unable to properly materialise an explanation.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Why do you even care so much?¡± he shot back, trying to shift the target onto me.

    ¡°As cold as you think I am, I wouldn¡¯t enjoy seeing my fellow students gunned down by a group of madmen. It is not right for a noble lady to lead by example? I showed Felipe to that office because I knew that it would be the safest place to hide, but you were determined to ruin my work.¡±

    Claude steamed, ¡°Oh yeah? Sounds to me like you¡¯re just mad that you can¡¯t take all the credit for rescuing Felipe!¡±

    ¡°I never took credit for that. This is the first time I¡¯ve spoke of it to anyone else.¡±

    Samantha stepped between us with her hands held aloft, ¡°Now, now ¨C there¡¯s no need to argue with each other. You¡¯ve both said your piece.¡± Claude tried to say something more but he stopped himself. His face fell and his mood turned for the worse. He walked away without saying goodbye to Samantha or Felipe. It was a stark change from his boisterous detective persona.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡± Felipe asked.

    Samantha twiddled a lock of her hair, ¡°He got into an argument with Maxwell about something. They¡¯re too stubborn for their own good.¡±

    ¡°They argued? I always got the impression that they were best friends.¡±

    ¡°The better the friends, the more bitter the fallouts. It seems to me that Claude is starting to regret whatever he did to upset Max,¡± I offered.

    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right. I hope they can get everything patched up before our next lesson or things are going to be very awkward.¡±

    Samantha laughed, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. This isn¡¯t the first time this has happened. They¡¯ve butted heads a few times this year already, and I¡¯m sure that there¡¯ll be a lot more to come.¡±

    Felipe checked the clock on the wall and hissed, ¡°I better head over and see how the meeting is going. Hopefully, I¡¯ll have good news for you all when the next lesson comes around. Don¡¯t be afraid to say hello if you see me wandering the campus.¡±

    ¡°I look forward to it,¡± I replied, waving as he left me alone with Samantha. The farmgirl was staring again, as she¡¯d been doing for hours while we worked out the specifics of our presentation. I never called her out on it, preferring to let sleeping dogs lie. I was unable to ascertain why she was so interested in looking at my face.

    ¡°Can I help you with something, Samantha?¡±

    She jerked back to life and stood up straight as if to emphasise the size difference between us. ¡°Ah, no. Not exactly. I was just studying your... expression.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s rather rude,¡± I warned her, ¡°I¡¯ll forgive you, but be wary of doing anything like this to the other girls here. They may not take it so lightly.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the only one I¡¯m interested in,¡± she said confidently, completely and blissfully unaware of how that sounded from my perspective.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you rather flirt with one of the boys?¡± I inquired. She was always surrounded by them, and she was meant to settle on one as her partner for the ongoing story. Samantha blushed and furiously wriggled in place.

    ¡°F-Flirt? I¡¯m not flirting!¡± she protested, ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m trying to do it or anything. You just had a look on your face that I haven¡¯t seen before, it¡¯s like you¡¯re more at ease than usual.¡±

    ¡°That was a joke.¡±

    She flopped down and sighed.

    ¡°How can I be at ease when we¡¯re surrounded by such chaotic times, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you prefer high-pressure situations? My Father is the same ¨C he always cuts things so close to the deadline, but he never breaks a sweat about it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not live my life under the threat of a hail of gunfire, thank you very much. Completing our assignments is more than enough stress for me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a bad thing. I think you look pretty cool when you get serious,¡± Samantha chirped.

    I barked out a laugh, ¡°Cool? That¡¯s a first.¡±

    For someone who looked like a child¡¯s doll brought to life through profane means, Maria never had the benefit of being described like that. Her character in the game was much less mature. She was a mischievous and manipulative girl who hid her true motives beneath a sickeningly sweet mask. I always thought that I looked like an angry chipmunk. It was part of the reason why I had to work so hard to intimidate people.

    ¡°But you have really angular eyes and a cold gaze, and you always carry yourself like you¡¯re in total control of what¡¯s going on around you. I kinda¡¯ look up to you. That argument with Claude was the first time I¡¯ve ever seen you get angry with someone.¡±

    I laughed even harder, my voice picking up into that characteristic ¡®ojou¡¯ laugh that Maria and every other antagonistic character liked to use. Samantha¡¯s uncertainty was clear as day, she didn¡¯t know whether it was a laugh of mirth or mockery. I took a deep breath and tried to stop the loud, echoing laugh before someone overheard us and came to investigate.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard anyone describe me like that before. You are something special, Samantha.¡±

    She smiled ¨C happy that she¡¯d managed to amuse me in some small part. She would need to do a lot more if she wanted us to be friends like she so boldly declared weeks ago in the back garden.

    ¡°I hope you mean that in a good way.¡±

    ¡°The suspense is half of the fun,¡± I tittered, ¡°I have things to attend to. I¡¯ll see you in the next period.¡± I took my leave. There was nothing specific that I had planned, but I wanted to see if Felipe really was being readmitted to the academy. I¡¯d have to camp outside of the staff office and try to catch what was going on.

    <hr>

    Samantha was awash with different thoughts and feelings about her talk with Maria. For a brief moment, she was allowed to look at the girl who lived beneath all those protective layers. She may have described her as a cool presence, but when she cracked a genuine smile it was easy to understand why so many people preferred to define her image as ¡®doll-like.¡¯ Maria was unfathomably beautiful. Samantha held a particular admiration for her ruby-red eyes, which could be heart-stopping or inviting depending on her mood.

    Samantha¡¯s cheeks turned red as she recalled the moment when she finally broke. That was what she was aiming for the entire time. Samantha knew that a few more positive meetings like that would result in them becoming fast friends. It was a technique she used to get along with people back in her home town. There were no permanent enemies, just people who wanted to protect themselves by putting up fronts.

    Maria was an exceptionally tricky case. Samantha learned the hard way that many people at the academy were trying to put on their best performance for the sake of their peers. This was a cauldron where future businesses, political alliances and personal relationships were formed. It was designed that way, it was the reason for the frequent excursions to notable locations for civic lessons. The children were expected to be the next generation of leaders and affluent job creators.

    That would be enough pressure for a young man or woman on its own, but some also dealt with parents who wanted to use them as extensions of their own ambitions. They saw their own children as a second chance to succeed in the places where they had failed, not content with what successes they already enjoyed. It was an unrealistic way to live and think. Samantha saw many bad harvests during her time living on the family farm, but there was no way to go back and do things over again. The seasons came and went. It was a harsh business to compete in.

    But Samantha¡¯s family enjoyed privileges that she could have never imagined a few years ago. She was the first girl from her family to attend any school at all, and to go even further and attend the Royal Academy was no small feat. From a young age she was instilled with a philosophy that proposed a single truth, mistakes and missed opportunities were inevitable, but there was no need to linger on them. The next season would always come.

    Maria was a girl who commanded a lot of praise and influence. Her Father seemingly bent over backwards to allow her to participate in what would otherwise be segregated shooting competitions. What hopes did he hold for her, she wondered? Maria never buckled under the pressure. She knew the answers to every question thrown her way, and she carefully danced around committing herself to any one thing or interpersonal connection.

    Adrian expressed those pressures in a visible, explosive way. Samantha came to understand why he acted like that during their project - with his Father demanding that he do everything perfectly no matter the cost. Adrian couldn¡¯t keep up. He was never much good at studying and he reflected that most of the lessons were completely lost on him for some reason.

    Samantha wanted the answers to her questions, she wanted to finally solve the biggest puzzle she¡¯d come across during her short life. Who was Maria Walston-Carter really? What did she care about and cherish, and what was she like when nobody was around to observe her like an animal in a zoo?

    What a sad way to live!

    Samantha was being earnest when she said that she wanted to be Maria¡¯s friend. While all of the other students would scoff and mock her for such a lofty goal, to her it felt entirely within her ability. Making Maria laugh proved it. She just had to keep working at it until she found the results she was looking for. If Samantha was good at anything, it was being extremely persistent.

    While wandering the exterior corridor next to one of the campus¡¯ courtyards, she finally located Claude ¨C who stormed off partway through their conversation. He didn¡¯t notice her until she sat down on the bench next to him.

    ¡°Are you okay, Claude?¡±

    He sighed, ¡°Yeah ¨C I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just frustrating, you know? I finally see something for myself and everyone starts pretending that I¡¯m making it all up.¡± ¡®Everyone¡¯ being Max, in this case. Having Maria respond to him in that way was what set him off again.

    ¡°So you¡¯re absolutely certain that you saw Maria holding a gun?¡±

    ¡°One hundred percent, in fact...¡± Claudius reached into his jacket pocket and pulled a small piece of folded paper out for both of them to study, ¡°I clipped this from the latest issue of the Walser Herald. The police did a big conference on what happened at the Booker¡¯s house, and there are some interesting details in there.¡±

    ¡°And how does it connect to Maria?¡±

    ¡°According to the police, everyone who the Bookers hired to guard the ball was actually a part of the plot. The one that was found unconscious told them that they bribed one of the staff members to get their names put to the top of the list. That means that none of them were responsible for the shootings.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Samantha nodded, following along.

    ¡°But the police say that they only arrived at the property thirty minutes after the hostages were taken. They were alerted to the crime by one of the neighbouring estates who heard the gunshots, which means that the police didn¡¯t do it either.¡±

    ¡°What about one of the staff members then?¡±

    ¡°They all testified that they didn¡¯t have a gun on hand, and none of them claimed credit for putting a stop to the plan, even when they were told that they wouldn¡¯t be prosecuted for it. So, if the police, the guards, and the staff are all ruled out ¨C the only person left with a gun to fight back was Maria.¡±

    Samantha connected the dots, ¡°I see.¡±

    He folded the newspaper clipped back into his pocket and groaned, ¡°Not that I¡¯m accusing her of doing it with certainty, but it lines up. I need more evidence before I can be sure.¡±

    ¡°Did you tell Max about this?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that was partly why he was so angry with me. He¡¯s had a thing against people who spread rumours for a long time, once some of the other kids found out that his mother wasn¡¯t with the family anymore. They said a lot of terrible stuff speculating about why. It¡¯s a good thing nobody brought it to the academy with them.¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°If you know that it annoys him, why do you keep doing it?¡±

    ¡°It annoys him because he thinks I¡¯m joking around,¡± Claude contested, ¡°When I evolve my theories based on what I see ¨C he still gets mad at me because he thinks I¡¯m being fickle. A close-minded detective is a bad detective. It¡¯s impossible to know everything right away!¡±

    Samantha still didn¡¯t buy the theory that Claude was trying to sell. She was biased, she could see that, but the image of Maria Walston-Carter flying through the manor¡¯s lobby and shooting down several gunmen like the main character in a pulp action novel was too absurd to accept. She also had the benefit of not suffering a negative reaction to it. Max was getting upset for Maria¡¯s sake. If she could convince Maria to have a word with him about it, perhaps they could patch up their wounded friendship.

    Assuming Maria would agree to such a plan, anyway.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to say that you¡¯re wrong for being suspicious, Claude. But you should keep Max¡¯s feelings in mind before you start talking so excitedly about this sort of thing. I think you really upset him.¡±

    Claude exhaled, ¡°I know. It¡¯s hard to own up to it, and it¡¯ll be a few days before he¡¯s willing to hear an apology in the first place.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s blaming himself in a different way too,¡± Samantha added, ¡°I¡¯m certain that you¡¯ll be back to how you usually are with each other soon enough!¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Like an old married couple.¡±

    ¡°H-Hey, we are not like that at all!¡±

 Chapter 41

    I found Beatrice in one of the studies that evening and took the opportunity to pry into Felipe¡¯s readmittance to the academy. She was keeping herself busy with her studies and prefect work, but it was clear that recent events were weighing heavily on her shoulders. It was her party that gathered everyone into one place.

    ¡°Oh yes, he said that the meeting went very well and that the academy has agreed to tighten security even more. Felipe¡¯s Father even offered to pay the cost himself.¡±

    ¡°I am glad to hear it. I hope that the incident hasn¡¯t affected him too negatively.¡±

    ¡°He is still rather paranoid about it happening again. I don¡¯t believe that it is possible for one to forgive and forget such a difficult experience. Felipe is putting a brave face on the matter for now, but I feel that he will divulge his true emotions to me in due time.¡±

    ¡°I understand. He will speak with you and his friends when he is prepared to.¡±

    Beatrice giggled, ¡°Why do you speak as if you are not a friend as well?¡±

    I almost forgot that I was trying to be friendlier with him for a moment there. It was a force of habit. The excuses came quickly, ¡°I was speaking generally, I¡¯m certain that Felipe has many friends in his year beyond me.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, Felipe is learning who his real friends are at the moment. Some of them have been speaking ill of him behind his back, others are afraid to be around him with the threat to his life. I¡¯m willing to forgive the latter, but not the former.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t get that culprit to speak about their motives?¡± I asked. Beatrice shook her head and sighed wearily.

    ¡°The police said that he was willing to speak on some matters, but otherwise plead ignorance on others. They still aren¡¯t sure as to why Felipe is being targeted, but it doesn¡¯t take an expert to draw a conclusion. They want to kill him and annul our betrothal.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°That makes sense. Do you have any idea of who might be behind it?¡±

    ¡°If we were speaking exclusively of the families who made a formal offer to my Father, it would still create a list composed of almost every single noble clan from here to the borders. Even those who were not initially interested may have changed their minds. The Abdah family, Rederros, even a young noble from a Van Walser cadet branch.¡±

    That made it impossible for us to determine a culprit from the list alone. It was safe to say that almost every noble family worth paying attention to had put forth their pitch to marry Beatrice and take over the Booker¡¯s business empire in the process.

    ¡°Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better to be born a boy,¡± she mused, ¡°It seems that being a lady has brought nothing but ill fortune to the people I care for.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have to change your life because of someone else¡¯s immoral actions,¡± I chided her, ¡°You¡¯re a victim in all of this, just like Felipe.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m saying these days. Thank you for always being so concerned about us, it means a lot to have a good friend like you.¡±

    I smiled. I was doing all of this for the sake of my own salvation.

    Was that the wrong thing to do? Perhaps. Eidos was right about one thing, people didn¡¯t get handed second chances every day, though he was speaking about it in more literal ¡®shot-in-the-chest and dying¡¯ kind of terms. This new life must have come with a catch, and the sudden proliferation of dangerous situations was cementing my position with each passing day.

    If I wasn¡¯t here, nobody would be in danger.

    I couldn¡¯t stop myself from thinking that way. All of these actions were performed by others, but it felt like I was partly responsible. I sincerely doubted that this kind of thing happened in a normal school year. All of those visual novels I used to clog my brain space and distract my conscience from the terrible things that I did had given me a sense of when I was being subjected to dramatic irony.

    There were only two possible answers. The first was that I was being punished for my previous misdeeds, lulled into a false sense of security and then stabbed in the back by fate or coincidence. The second was that the reason I was here was not intended to be a punishment at all. How many of those same stories hinged on the protagonist using their skills to help a troubled Deity? I was a good assassin, that was for certain, but I failed to see why any God or Deity would want the likes of me helping them. An unrepentant murderer wasn¡¯t good for building trust. What was stopping me from flying off the handle and causing trouble myself?

    For that matter ¨C beyond the abolition of a potential identity crisis, I remained completely unaffected mentally. I was still capable of making my own decisions, unless the changes were so minute and insidious that I couldn¡¯t even recognise them. They were still aligned with how I would operate in my previous life. That was the only measure I could count on. If this theoretical patron Deity was capable of banishing body dysphoria with a snap of their fingers, why couldn¡¯t they make my life easier instead?

    Beatrice shifted topics, ¡°He came back at the right time. The first years are almost due for a trip to the parliament building, and he was one of the seniors who were penned in to take on the job of supervising it. Will you be going?¡±

    Wherever he went, I¡¯d follow.

    ¡°I¡¯m interested. My Uncle is a sitting member.¡±

    ¡°Is he? I didn¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°He says there¡¯s little exciting about it, not unless one of the floor¡¯s rowdier members starts a fistfight in the pit...¡±

    The newspapers loved that kind of story ¨C but in truth, it was extremely rare and only triggered between MPs who already shared some bad blood. Seeing a huge huddle of people pushing and shoving gave a false impression that the place was more of a fight club than the seat of Walser¡¯s government law-making. Tensions were high at the moment and ideological divisions were starting to form about the future of the Republic.

    The sitting member from Burdick River, Clemens Walston-Carter, was a strange fellow. He didn¡¯t seem all that interested in being a politician but he won his seat handily and ended up there anyway. He was an independent aligned with the conservative coalition, the right-leaning Republicans who helped push the monarchy out of power and supplanted the traditional monarchist right in the process. Uncle Clemens, as he liked to be called, was a gregarious and jovial man, completely unlike his brother. Every time he swung by the house to visit ¨C he¡¯d shower me with gifts and excitedly listen to whatever domestic exploits caught his interest. His primary hobbies were collecting antiques (specifically chairs,) and boating.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be wonderful if he was giving us the tour? They haven¡¯t settled on a group leader just yet.¡±

    ¡°He has the flair for it ¨C but I¡¯m afraid that he might be busy at the time the trip is due to occur.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that is true. They schedule the tour to occur during the midterm session.¡±

    The midterm session being a period where the government dumped the more mundane laws and debates onto the docket, ones which were expected to pass mostly unopposed. It was popular etiquette for major new bills to only be introduced during the main session when most of the MPs were in the city. Nobody wanted a tit-for-tat scheduling war where the ruling party tried to slip things through without having time cleared for a vote. It would happen one day, there was no constitutional rule saying things had to be like that.

    For our purposes, the first-year trip would attend one of those midterm sessions and recieve a speech from a sitting member. We¡¯d be in the spectator gallery above the main chamber. It was a deathly boring prospect, but things would be spiced up if Felipe was going along. It sounded like the perfect place for a twice-bitten gang of hitmen to make another try on his life. In return for our sacrifice in boredom, we would receive extra marks for our Civics and History class.

    ¡°I get the impression that the Headmaster will be hesitant to allow Felipe on the tour, even if he did agree to do it before his suspension.¡±

    ¡°The Parliament building is one of the most secure locations for a person to be,¡± she replied, ¡°To try and kill someone within the property would be tantamount to madness. It would bring every police officer down on the city like a swarm of locusts.¡±

    They didn¡¯t have a problem doing it to the Booker¡¯s house. She picked up on my hesitancy.

    ¡°Maria ¨C I¡¯m worried about Felipe too, but he made it clear to me that he does not wish for this dilemma to prevent him from doing what he wants to do. There is no good in him living a life of fear.¡±

    ¡°The ¡®good¡¯ you speak of is remaining among the living,¡± I noted. There was nothing more important than that. It was something that would make even the most composed individual take drastic and anomalous action. While I seemingly stood as an exception, it was easy to guess that you didn¡¯t get a second life if you lost your first. What good was holding onto a principle if the only thing it did was get you killed?

    Felipe was trading his safety for seeing through the last days of his schooling at the academy. It was an outsized risk for something that didn¡¯t matter so much in the grand scheme of things. He was a rich noble¡¯s son, he could do anything he wanted once he graduated from here, experience or knowledge be damned. Every problem he ever faced could be paved over with some cash. And when you spend several years at an academy, the last dregs weren¡¯t going to make or break what you learnt.

    At the least, he could wait until the culprits were dealt with and come back once the coast was clear. These nostalgia-drenched schoolboy memories weren¡¯t worth the space they took in the human grey matter. He¡¯d look back on this and wonder what the hell he was thinking. Mortality comes into sharp focus once the years start slipping past.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Felipe¡¯s father is going to do everything he can to make sure the academy, and elsewhere, is safe for him to go. I understand that recent events have shaken confidence in their ability to protect Felipe, but they won¡¯t be making the same mistakes again. They¡¯re going to be highly visible.¡±

    Deterrence was the better half of conflict. It put me at ease somewhat that they were heading in the right direction with this. Putting a lot of scary-looking guys with guns in view would ward away the fickle and challenge the foolhardy. Aside from Eidos ¨C none of the men who attacked the party were special. They didn¡¯t use magic and seemed to be totally lost once the bullets started firing. I could trust someone else to shoot back at them.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see. I am not the one making that decision, after all. I find myself sceptical of their wisdom in part because of what happened at the ball. The assassins are resourceful, placing themselves into the best possible position by manipulating the people your father believed he could trust.¡±

    She tensed up as I pointed the finger firmly in their direction. She hadn¡¯t said a word about her own experiences or feelings while being held at gunpoint. Was she trying to avoid a sticky subject? Or was she not ready to reopen that emotional wound just yet?

    ¡°Are you implying that we had something to do with it? We were the ones who agreed to the betrothal in the first place.¡±

    ¡°I never accused you or your father of anything.¡±

    She snapped her lips shut and covered her eyes as she realised what she¡¯d just revealed to me.

    ¡°Is that the rumour that¡¯s been going around? A severe case of cold feet?¡±

    She nodded wordlessly.

    ¡°There¡¯s an adage I like to keep in mind at times like these. The simplest explanation is the likeliest one. It¡¯s a shame that those particular rumour-mongers can¡¯t accept your continued relationship as a sign of that story¡¯s falsity.¡±

    Beatrice¡¯s voice cracked, ¡°I almost flipped my lid when they said that when I was in the room. It was outrageous! How could they accuse me of doing something so horrible? If I wanted this betrothal to be done with I¡¯d have said as much!¡±

    Beatrice was greatly overestimating how much sway she possessed when hundreds of millions were on the line. As kind as she believed her father to be, he wouldn¡¯t budge so easily when the future of his business was on the line. That only mattered if she wanted to annul the marriage, of course ¨C something which she was already distressed about. From an outsider¡¯s view, it made her potential involvement in the scheme more believable.

    ¡°I made it clear how distasteful I found their comments,¡± she revealed, ¡°It may not make me any allies, but I have no need of ¡®friends¡¯ who act in such a way.¡±

    ¡°I cannot argue with that. Hopefully, they will grow bored of it in time and cease their incessant speculation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about that. This is so much more explosive than any of the other stories that normally circulate the campus,¡± she sighed. It was made all the worse by the fact that there was some truth to it. Most of the campus¡¯ favourite tall tales were so evidently false that they soon sputtered out and died without the fuel to remain alight.

    ¡°I can speak with them if you¡¯d like.¡±

    Beatrice laughed, ¡°I don¡¯t think they¡¯re willing to listen to a girl in the first year, even if she sports a reputation like yours. It is my problem to solve. You should focus on your studies and stop worrying about me.¡±

    I said nothing at that point. It didn¡¯t matter to me what Beatrice thought about things really. I was going to worry no matter what she demanded from me. Unless I saw evidence to the contrary that I was attracting all of this danger like a gravitational mass, I was going to remain vigilant and keep an eye out for more assassins.

    ¡°And I think you should spend more time with the other students from your year. You will regret not making friends while you have the chance. I saw you speaking with that Samantha girl earlier ¨C have you been getting closer to her recently?¡±

    I turned on my heel and started walking, ¡°Okay. I¡¯m leaving.¡±

    ¡°Humour me a little!¡± she cried.

    I did not.

    <hr>

    Felipe returned to school the following week and was present for a practical lesson with Miss Jennings. Max and Claude¡¯s feud was nowhere close to being done with, much to Samantha¡¯s chagrin. It was extremely awkward for her to be around two boys who were doing their best to avoid apologising or making up over a petty argument. Max¡¯s anger came from a genuine place, but as a cranky thirty-year-old man in a teenager¡¯s body, I didn¡¯t have time for it. The only reason it continued was that neither wanted to eat humble pie and make the first move to mend the bridge.

    ¡°So why are you sitting with me?¡± I asked as Samantha slid into the seat across from me with a tray of food in hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to lose my head if I have to spend another second watching those two stare at each other for an hour again,¡± she complained, ¡°I don¡¯t know what group I¡¯m going to pick when we go for our trip to the parliament building. Max and Claude don¡¯t want to be together.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re all coming?¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to see it for myself, and it¡¯ll be interesting to see a session in person.¡± I wasn¡¯t brave enough to break the bad news to her ¨C there was absolutely nothing interesting about watching an off-season parliamentary session.

    ¡°I find myself surprised that the staff are willing to let Felipe come with us as a prefect. Beatrice told me that she believes nobody would be foolish enough to attempt a crime in the parliament house, but the men who held you hostage at the party did not seem so concerned with images of civility. I have no doubt that they will be willing to take the risk.¡±

    ¡°I trust that the place will be well-guarded. I mean ¨C it¡¯s the seat of government and all. Would you mind if I tagged along with you?¡± she pleaded, fluttering her eyes and trying to give off the impression of a begging puppy.

    ¡°If you want. Felipe already said that he wants to invite me to his group,¡± I revealed.

    ¡°Thank you. Do you have any ideas on how I can get them to be friends again?¡± I gave her an unimpressed glare as she implied that I was some type of social butterfly. Samantha smiled tersely and shook her head, ¡°Or not.¡±

    ¡°Lock them in a room together and throw away the key.¡±

    Samantha considered doing just that for a split second, ¡°No. They¡¯ll refuse to speak with each other even if we force them to.¡±

    ¡°Have you never argued with a close friend before?¡± I inquired.

    ¡°A few times, but that was when I was younger. Those kinds of arguments aren¡¯t as personal as this one. It was over stupid stuff like who got to use the rope swing or which river we wanted to go swimming in.¡±

    ¡°They will forget about it in time. You shouldn¡¯t worry so much about them.¡±

    I was saying that from a perspective of a girl wracked with paranoia about everyone being shot and killed. Now that I knew the trip was likely to go ahead, and Felipe was also trying to retain his place, I¡¯d been making some of my own preparations just in case. I wasn¡¯t going to get caught on the backfoot this time. I was going to bring my gun, try to learn the building layout in advance using architectural writings and bring some specific countermeasures to keep magic attacks from being effective.

    I had secretly pilfered three of the conductive spikes from the training area. Eidos was delighted with his lightning magic, and it was dangerous unless you were ready for it. There were enough of them that their absence wouldn¡¯t be noticed ¨C and if it came to that the staff would assume they¡¯d been misplaced. I could stab them into a surface and protect myself from his magic. I had to question the utility of that particular spell when he was still using a gun, but the cruelty seemed to be the point. Being burned alive hurt a lot more than getting shot, not that I sported experience in the former.

    I would have given an arm and a leg for a proper bulletproof vest too. There were a few problems with that. In addition to hiding it beneath the thin uniform shirt we were forced to wear, most modern militaries still used brightly coloured and decorated uniforms for their conscripted troops. The doctrine and technology required for personal investment in them weren¡¯t widespread. The best you could find was something made from metal, and you didn¡¯t need to be an experienced assassin to see that using that was an invitation to have it fragment into your chest cavity. Mobility, subtlety and speed were more important to me than a metal chest plate that wouldn¡¯t even work.

    It would be a relief if Felipe was rejected from taking on one of the groups. I¡¯d still have to go, but it would mean that he¡¯d remain on campus instead of going to the building. I was confident that the assassins had blown their one chance of getting to him while at the school with Prier¡¯s death. None of the other teachers aroused any suspicion from me, and I was being extremely vigilant around them.

    How did he even land a job like that? The tutors were paid fairly well, and they often came from backgrounds wherein they had the chance to attend colleges and universities. They were always in high demand and could play hardball with their employers to secure good wages. Sure ¨C there was a lot of money riding on marrying Beatrice Booker, but people in more economically secure positions were less likely to commit a crime. In the face of evidence to the contrary, I could only adjust my expectations. This was still technically a fictional world, and it was possible that the pieces had been put in place before my arrival to pose a specific sort of challenge.

    The parliament trip felt like the next step. It would be utterly absurd to let Felipe go there with recent events still in mind, but I could tell that it was going to happen anyway. Reality would warp and bend to make things as difficult as humanly possible. I always found myself right in the middle of proceedings. Twice could be considered a coincidence, but three times was a pattern.

    Samantha caught my attention by swallowing a huge piece of bread and chugging half of her drink in one go to wash it down, before she could clear her throat of it she was trying to talk to me again.

    ¡°You¡¯ve started to open up a lot lately.¡±

    ¡°I have?¡±

    ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t mean it¡¯s a bad thing. You¡¯re friends with Felipe, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ve been more willing to speak with me, Claude and Max. Not to mention you¡¯ve been sitting with Talia for two months. Were you nervous about being around so many new people? I won¡¯t judge if you were.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°People don¡¯t make me nervous. I¡¯d rather not deal with them, but you can¡¯t avoid them when you¡¯re attending an academy like this. Even the most isolated individuals make connections with others. Is it not enough to say that I¡¯m becoming more comfortable? I¡¯m sure that you underwent a similar process.¡±

    Samantha toyed with a piece of her food, ¡°I was really worried when I first came here. I thought that I was going to get bullied a lot by all of the other girls because of my accent and appearance, but you and the boys scared them all away.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recall scaring anyone.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because it comes naturally to you! When you said to the girls in class that you thought insulting me was a waste of time, they all stopped doing it to try and get into your good books. They¡¯re like a herd of sheep.¡±

    ¡°That they are. If only there was a way to show them that I¡¯m a profound bore as well.¡±

    Samantha wanted so badly to contest that claim, but she knew better than to try. Self-imposed ideas were too tough to break down in a simple discussion. I was not a boring person. There was nothing dull about an assassin reincarnated into the body of a noble teenage girl from a visual novel. That part was one-hundred-percent pure, undistilled crazy. It was so crazy that even I was having a hard time buying into it. The sensations felt real, and the consistency of the world around me was solid, but it was far beyond my rational mind to accept with no questions. The moral element assisted in heightening that incredulity; why would a person like myself be offered a second chance?

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with being my friend too?¡± Samantha asked.

    ¡°I see no need for us to be friends.¡±

    She leaned in and dug deeper; ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Talia and Felipe serve a specific purpose to me ¨C what do you offer that I can¡¯t get from them?¡±

    Samantha¡¯s expression morphed from offended to pensive. It was the same line that I¡¯d been trotting out to try and get her off my back for some time, but she was no longer willing to accept that as an answer. Samantha had caught on to the fact that I was just being defensive and didn¡¯t really think of them in such a utilitarian way.

    ¡°I think you need to work on your honesty, Maria. There¡¯s no way you believe any of that. I can tell that you¡¯re having more fun when you¡¯re around them. You have another reason.¡±

    I finished off the last bite of my meal and started to pack up my utensils, ¡°Then allow me to flip the premise on its head. There is nothing for you to gain from being my friend. You should stick with Claudius and Maxwell.¡±

    I left her to think on that, silently hoping that it was enough to push her away. I caught the end of her question just as I left earshot.

    ¡°Why the heck do we need a reason to be friends?¡±

    I kept walking.

 Chapter 42

    Exactly as I predicted, Felipe was somehow given permission to go on the trip with the first years.

    It defied a logical explanation, but none of the teachers filled me with a sense of confidence when it came to things like this. They were educators first and guardians second. It was doubtful that they¡¯d ever dealt with something this serious before. Since Felipe was going, so was I. I thanked my good fortune to have prepared the stuff I needed before the announcement was made. The only force in the universe that could get him on this trip was dramatic convenience.

    The visit would last for only one day at the start of the week. The academy was relatively close to the parliament building, at least in comparison to the extremely dense industrial and urban areas that were located along the city¡¯s coast. The congestion from people moving back and forth made that particular route significantly more arduous and time-consuming. For us, it was an hour¡¯s trip using a horse and carriage. It was almost hard to believe that this beautiful rural location was so close to a major city.

    As for the composition of our party ¨C there was another surprise in store. A lot of the kids from my year were being forced to go by their ambitious parents. Getting in early was considered a good strategy for forming political connections, even if those kids were far too young to understand what they were doing. The mere appearance of being interested in politics and leadership was seen as important.

    What I expected to be a group of nine or ten quickly swelled to three dozen. That explained why students like Felipe were being brought along as guides. They couldn¡¯t spare the adult supervisors to come with when classes were still in session for everybody else.

    The last piece of the puzzle that eluded me was a book or document covering the layout of the building. The parliament building was more popularly known as Vander¡¯s Hall. It was originally constructed as a theatre three-hundred years ago, but it eventually went out of business and fell into the hands of the city. The architecture was considered cutting edge at the time and various noble investors poured millions and millions of marks into making it look that way. Nowadays it was showing its age as an example of ¡®classical¡¯ design. That afforded it a sense of grandeur and it became the perfect place to seat the newly established house of representatives. It was sitting empty otherwise, so why not use it?

    While those facts were easy to establish and collect, an actual floor plan of the building was another matter. It made sense that the government didn¡¯t want fully detailed maps of the building being out in public. It posed a serious security risk to the people whom many revolutionaries and reactionaries would rather see dead than making laws. The best I could find was a map from before it was turned into a government building, but years after it ceased operating as a business.

    Things will have changed since then. Not just for the sake of confusing any potential revolutionaries, but because the building was also where many government offices held space for their paper pushers. While the atrium of the building was transformed into a rotunda of seats, desks and a speaking podium, everything else was dedicated to all the boring minutia of running a country. It was the single biggest office space in the nation. Walls will have been knocked through, new ones erected, and extra routes through the building installed to make travel easier.

    At any other time, those tiny details won¡¯t have mattered so much, but if I was pulled into a gunfight knowing the layout would be a significant advantage. If they attacked in numbers again those advantages would be necessary for success. It never hurt to be too prepared for something. In an era where governmental transparency was the last thing on people¡¯s minds and the establishment of scholarly and historical records was a recent concept, it was perhaps too much to ask to see a detailed map of the parliament building.

    The tour were we getting from the building¡¯s caretaker had to be a good one.

    Expending every book in the academy¡¯s libraries wasn¡¯t going to get the results I was looking for, and I couldn¡¯t justify spending any more time on that element of my plan with others yet to be fully cemented. I put my collection of tomes back into their places and decided to take a break from it. Smashing my head against a brick wall was not going to help. That knowledge was important but I could compensate for it in other areas.

    I sought out and needled Felipe for the details about the day¡¯s itinerary. In the morning we would be given an hour-long tour, walking through the different departments, and seeing some of the tourist attractions, before finally being led to the balconies that overlooked the house chamber. The session was scheduled to begin a few minutes before we arrived. We would watch the first reading of the bill and some of the debate, breaking up for lunch and for the individual sections of the proceedings. This was where we¡¯d be alone with our assigned groups, and where Felipe would be the most isolated.

    Each prefect was given a department to visit, where a more in-depth talk would be given about the function and day-to-day of the wing. That would be followed by a personal discussion with one of the MPs who were attending the session, usually selected from among the kid¡¯s parents because of their pre-existing connections with the school. Even as an adult in a teenager¡¯s body, I didn¡¯t know what exactly that discussion would be about, given that most of the students were more invested in gossip and interpersonal drama rather than international politics.

    Once that was done - we would return to the balcony and see the end of the reading session plus some of the ensuing debate. The reading would go on for some time after we left, potentially late into the night. That was true even if the vote on it was considered a formality. It would be interesting to see if the debate was on anything of substance since there were no cameras to play to and it was unlikely to be front-page news.

    Exposure served as a perverse incentive for some politicians.

    The day before we were due to leave a notice was pinned to the dorm¡¯s board revealing who we were assigned to. I was grouped with Samantha, Claudius, Maxwell, Adrian, and someone called Hershel. I was totally unfamiliar with them, I couldn¡¯t even put a face to the name. Felipe had some say over who he wanted to take, which explained why most of us came from the magic class.

    Adrian was definitely one of the kids who didn¡¯t really want to come along. His Father, Cathdra Roderro, was a sitting MP and an influential member of the Conservative party. Adrian had no patience for most things, even if they only demanded an hour of his attention ¨C so the thought of him enduring hours of legislative debate and trying to rub shoulders with donors and voters was an absurd one.

    He was always two seconds away from blowing up and flying into a blind rage. Perhaps it was an unfair perception, but to me, he¡¯d been nothing but unpleasant since the first time we met. Successive defeats in shooting competitions made the issue worse. I could only hope that he¡¯d keep his mouth shut instead of griping about it over and over again.

    Thus, with all of that information in hand and the gun neatly tucked beneath my skirt, I headed out into the courtyard and tried to locate our carriage through a sea of people. Felipe was standing on the bottom step to get some elevation and was waving to me. As I approached, I could already hear Adrian airing his thoughts about the trip we were about to depart on.

    ¡°I¡¯m not even interested in politics. Why the hell do I have to come along?¡±

    Felipe blinked, ¡°Why are you coming with us?¡±

    ¡°My Dad said that I¡¯d be in serious trouble if I didn¡¯t. I¡¯d prefer to sit in the lecture theatre and listen to Miss Jennings rattle on for two hours than do this.¡±

    Felipe found the dismissive comments on his favourite teacher irritating, but he kept his contempt restrained to a frustrated twitch on his brow. Any admonishments he could dispense would bounce right off him. Adrian could not spare any space in his mind for other people¡¯s criticism. To acknowledge them would be to admit that not everyone was in love with his attitude. His mood soured a touch further as he spotted me emerging through the crowd.

    ¡°Ugh, and we have to deal with you as well?¡±

    ¡°I could say the same to you,¡± I shot back, ¡°Save us the pain of listening to your inane complaints for the time being. This is going to be a full day of dull observation ¨C we needn¡¯t hear your gripes to know.¡±

    He looked to Felipe for help, ¡°Can I change groups? Come on, there has to be someone here who would be fine with swapping places.¡±

    Felipe sighed, ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. The teachers are being very strict about knowing where everyone is at all times. They won¡¯t be entertaining any requests to switch groups now that we¡¯re about to depart.¡±

    The troublesome trio were next to show up on the scene. Claude and Max were still having their lover¡¯s spat, strategically placing Samantha in the middle so that they didn¡¯t have to stand next to each other. Samantha looked so tired with this that I could see ghostly bags lingering under her eyes. Divorce is always the hardest on the children. Her dread was enhanced when she realised that Adrian was here and wasn¡¯t trying to dodge going.

    ¡°Goddess help me,¡± she moaned.

    Felipe stepped aside and allowed me to enter the carriage. It was less plush than the one that my Father liked to send for me, with a retractable roof and open sides instead of windows. There was more than enough space for all of us to sit inside. Adrian, Samantha and Max took that as their cue to join me in the cabin. To say that the atmosphere inside was awkward would be a profound understatement. Sam, Claude and Adrian didn¡¯t want to speak with anyone, and I felt like the odd one out for being okay with saying something to Samantha. The issue worsened when Hershel arrived and took the last spot.

    Despite the space we had, it was still a comparatively small space for six people. Felipe stepped inside and pulled the door closed, sealing our fate and sentencing all of us to a one-hour trip in which barely a word would be spared. I stared straight ahead to where Claude was sitting for most of it, just to unnerve him a little. Even my coldest glare wasn¡¯t good enough to make him speak with Max. For the second half of the journey, I took advantage of my window seat and look out to the countryside as it rolled by. It was early in the morning, a necessity to give us enough time to complete the day¡¯s planned activities. The orange morning sky was only just fading away into a light blue.

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    The open fields and dense woodlands soon gave way to suburban sprawl and increasingly dense commercial areas. The location of the theatre was considered optimal because it avoided the industrial areas while also being easy to access. It helped balance the importance of both sides of the city, with the economic and political grunt being separated into two areas.

    The area around the theatre saw a significant increase in property value in the years following the move. The only reason was that the politicians didn¡¯t want to see the poor and downtrodden on their way to work, but it was hard to dispute the outcomes. Those formerly poor residents were given a serious boon, most selling up and moving away to a larger home while prices were high.

    Samantha was leaning across to try and get a look at the city.

    ¡°Is this your first time in the city?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to sound like a country bumpkin,¡± she said.

    ¡°That is not unusual. Most people who don¡¯t live and work here have never seen any need to visit. If we were going by the standard of who has and has not been here, many of our peers at the academy could also be considered country bumpkins.¡±

    That was the innate hypocrisy of the noble class. They enjoyed the benefits of rural life but thought themselves above the people who did the same but with less money. Locked away in huge compounds with massive gardens and hundreds of servants ¨C they were more isolated and backward than any modern farmgirl. Urbanisation in the cities meant that a huge number of them were moving out into the country to get away from the lower class.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like it. It¡¯s hard to believe just how big this city is until you actually see it.¡±

    ¡°I do believe that this is the only place like it in Walser.¡±

    That would change in time.

    Felipe smiled, ¡°I got lost the first time my Father brought me here. He¡¯s always been eager to involve us in the family business, so we headed down to the docks to see one of our ships before it departed. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw that I¡¯d disappeared.¡±

    Samantha oo-ed and ah-ed at the various sights and sounds leaking through the sides of the carriage. The city was waking up, and many people were already on their way to work. Gangs of children played on the steps of the townhouses or caused mischief for the commuters with their games. As we crossed from the dirt streets to the cobbled ones, the ride became much less pleasant as the carriage started to rock back and forth. They didn¡¯t splash out for ones that came with rudimentary suspension.

    We took a sharp left and passed through a pair of iron gates. A small courtyard was placed at the front of the building, once used as an attempt to beautify the area, it now served as a convenient location for political rallies, or as an extra defence cordon when people weren¡¯t happy with the government ¨C and they very rarely were happy with them these days. Felipe got up first and opened the door as we came to a stop. Hershel, Maxwell and Claude departed without saying a word.

    In conclusion - it was the most profoundly awkward trip I¡¯d been involved in over two lifetimes.

    Samantha sighed and rubbed the corners of her eyes, ¡°I thought they¡¯d be done with this argument by now.¡±

    ¡°If you need someone to occupy your attention, I am right here.¡±

    ¡°This coming from the girl who said she didn¡¯t want to be friends.¡±

    ¡°Just because we aren¡¯t friends does not mean I cannot speak with you.¡±

    Samantha didn¡¯t get where I was coming from and she wasn¡¯t going to. I had my own reasons for acting this way and that was all she knew. She followed me out onto the main driveway of the parliament building and took a moment to stand back and admired the circular structure from a distance. It was a genuinely impressive piece of construction, the type that would make most construction companies break out into a cold sweat with how many unneeded expenses were utilised to decorate the exterior fa?ade.

    From top to bottom, it was constructed mainly out of white marble. High arched windows allowed a lot of light to pour into the respective office spaces, giving it a modern, open-plan feeling that stood in sharp opposition to the dark colours you¡¯d find in other high-class buildings. It stood four stories tall and stretched outwards to dominate a space that could easily house four or five housing blocks. A flat roof and Greco-Roman pillars gave the impression of the Colosseum.

    ¡°It¡¯s an arresting sight,¡± I said to Samantha.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like this. It¡¯s huge!¡±

    ¡°It has to be big when thousands of people work here. This is the seat of government, and the place where many of their departments are based.¡±

    ¡°Like the treasury?¡± she asks, parroting something she was familiar with.

    ¡°The treasury has its own building closer to the docks. The Theatre is home to the state, agricultural, education, and transport departments.¡±

    Felipe was not happy with my already burgeoning knowledge, ¡°Save some for the rest of the tour, please. You¡¯re going to burn through all of my material before I get the chance to say it.¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Once all of the different groups were dismounted and ready to go, we were led to the front steps by the teachers. An affable-looking man in a waistcoat was waiting for us at the top. His face was reddened either by high blood pressure or a love for alcohol, or maybe even both.

    ¡°Welcome to the Theatre everyone! My name is Patrick Ablator, I¡¯m a liaison from the education department, and I¡¯ll be making sure that everything runs smoothly for you today during your visit. I¡¯m very pleased to see such an amazing turnout for our open day.¡±

    His enthusiasm was not going to rub off on the students, no matter how hard he tried. Regardless of the reaction from the lethargic teenagers he was overseeing, Patrick only planned on doing this tour in one way, so come hell or high water he was going to stick to his guns and try to get people pumped to explore what was essentially an overblown office complex.

    ¡°For the first part of the day, we¡¯ll be exploring the history of the building and how Walser¡¯s parliament came to be. After that ¨C we¡¯ll be attending a live session where the members will be debating a new bill that might become law in the near future.¡±

    The prefects and teachers hung around the back of the herd and forced us into a tight formation as we entered the lobby. Despite being called the Theatre by most people in the know, there was little evidence of its former use remaining within the building itself. This was originally where the tickets were checked before people were allowed to enter the main atrium. The floor was patterned in a dazzling array of black and white tiles. A large statue of a bearded man stood between the doors at the back of the room.

    ¡°This statue was commissioned and placed here on the opening day of the Walser parliament. The man who stands here is Douglas Rory Smith ¨C a man who found himself thrust into the centre of the events that led to its formation. He was a Republican activist and speaker, who was the key individual that led to the ratification of the Walser Compromise and subsequent treaty. He now serves as a reminder of what good temperance and cooperation can achieve.¡±

    As in, he was the friendliest and most palatable Republican figure they could erect a monument to without getting the monarchists into an incandescent rage. He was important, but there were many other people involved in a more violent struggle that helped contribute to the Compromise being introduced and passed. Given the nature of that compromise, it made sense to use him as the gatekeeper to the parliament chamber. He stood to represent a new era of politics in Walser, one where the people held more power than the royal family, at least in theory.

    It was hard to keep a straight face thinking about that. The entire point of this trip was for the respective families in parliament to show their credentials and maybe get their kid¡¯s foot in the door. The royal family¡¯s power was now wielded in an entirely different way. It all depended on the balance between the Republicans and the Monarchists in parliament.

    Patrick had lots of other similar anecdotes to dispense as we were escorted through into the parliament chamber itself. It hadn¡¯t been around for long enough to be seasoned with strange traditions yet, so they were mainly focused on the actual function of the space and giving us a chance to get up on the stage to look over the desks where the representatives would be seated.

    The building¡¯s artful heritage was more obvious from the other side because you could see up onto the balconies that ran around the top of the room. That was where the press and other permitted individuals would be seated during a session.

    ¡°Wow. I don¡¯t think I could stand up here and speak to all of the people who¡¯d be sitting down there,¡± Samantha fretted.

    ¡°Speaking skills are not essential to a politician, no matter what they tell us at the academy.¡±

    Samantha smirked, ¡°I can see you standing up here and holding their attention.¡±

    I positioned myself behind the podium, only to discover that I could barely see over the top of it due to my short stature. I sighed, ¡°I believe they¡¯d find it more comedic than enrapturing.¡±

    Samantha giggled nervously, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get taller soon!¡±

    Politics wasn¡¯t really my thing anyway.

    As we moved to leave the chamber and move on to our next stop, movement caught my eye from one of the balconies. A lone figure backed away into the shadows. This place was exposed. There were hundreds of ways to look down into the chamber, including the glass dome that was held aloft above the ceiling. At least if they tried to kill Felipe while we were on the balconies, there were only two doors that led onto them. I could keep track of that much.

    Patrick skidded to a halt, ¡°Oh, and before we leave ¨C you might have noticed the two flags that are hanging behind the speaker¡¯s chair. The first is the ever-recognizable flag of our Republic.¡±

    The Walser flag bore the orange-yellow colouration of the Republican movement along the top, with a thinner white stripe beneath, and finally the royal family¡¯s traditional purple on the bottom. The positioning of the colours was almost contentious enough to start another civil war when it was being designed, but the Republicans got their way in the end and took top billing.

    ¡°The second is the personal banner of the Van Walser family. Just as Douglas Smith stands at the entrance to remind us of our roots, so too do these twin flags hang before the parliament.¡±

    The Van Walser¡¯s personal flag was much more complex, veering away from an almost-tricolour design in favour of the family¡¯s crest, which depicted a shield split between a deer mid-flight and a pattern of flowing waves. Purple was the dominant colour once again, with touches of violet and white. It was odd that the democratic arm of the nation¡¯s government was forced to display the mark of a displaced monarchy, but those small details were what allowed the transition to happen in a mostly bloodless manner.

    Besides ¨C it was common knowledge that the Van Walsers still had a lot of sway over national politics. Anyone with money and power could worm their way into a parliamentary seat or twelve. The parties served their purpose but a lot of what happened in this building came down to the individuals and their motivations.

    We left the main room and walked up a flight of steps to reach the first floor. The entire time I was keeping a vigilant lookout for whoever may be trying to kill Felipe. Aside from the person watching our group from the balcony, there was nothing too suspicious. The people running back and forth with bundles of paperwork in their arms were far too occupied with work to help with that conspiracy.

    The tour was suddenly halted as a familiar-looking man rounded the corner in front of us. His face broke out into a disarming smile and his eyes locked on Adrian, who was skulking at the back beside me. Adrian¡¯s face fell like a stone as he noticed who it was.

    ¡°Old man...¡±

    Adrian was the spitting image of his father, a youthful mirror that didn¡¯t bare the same scars of age that he did. The elder Roderro clapped Patrick on the back and hummed to himself.

    ¡°I see that our latest guests have made their appearance! I think this might be our largest group yet.¡±

    Patrick nodded, ¡°I said the same thing. Are you headed for the session?¡±

    ¡°That I am. Make sure you all pay attention to Patrick here ¨C he knows everything there is to know about the Theatre and what goes on behind these doors. You might find that information valuable in the near future. And to those of you who are dropping by my office later, I look forward to fielding all of your questions. I¡¯m sure you have a lot of them.¡±

    Way to put unneeded pressure on us, Mister Roderro.

    While he was pleased to see his son attending the tour if only at the behest of his orders, Cathdra soon looked and regarded Felipe, who was standing on the left side of the pack. He said nothing, but the way he targeted him immediately raised an alarm bell in my head. The Rederro family was one of many who tried to claim Beatrice Booker¡¯s hand in marriage. He may have kept his silence, but the eyes of a man could contain more emotions than his words ever could.

    He snapped out of it so quickly that nobody else noticed. Another cheery smile and wave to his son, and he was away towards the stairs so that he could attend the upcoming debate session. I was going to keep my eye on him. I released a breath I didn¡¯t know I was holding, joined in concert by a nervy Adrian.

    Patrick ploughed on, ¡°Right. Our next stop is the Department of Transportation.¡±

    Will wonders never cease?

 Chapter 43

    The Department of Transportation was every bit as exciting as it sounded. What little energy had been generated by our arrival at the Theatre was soon sapped away by a succession of increasingly dull stops along our tour route. It was worse than my most pessimistic predictions. Were the teachers at the academy taking drugs when they decided to institute this as a yearly tradition? I couldn¡¯t put myself in their shoes at the moment when this particular idea was formed.

    The only entertainment to squeeze out of this was the way that everyone¡¯s faces became increasingly weary with each location we visited. For sure, it was a collection of government office spaces, but a room filled with desks and dividers was not going to capture the imagination of a group of young students. Patrick¡¯s attempts to keep spirits high with jokes and stories were falling flat. Forget being shot, this was the most painful thing I¡¯d ever experienced.

    Bless this man¡¯s soul ¨C he was trying his hardest.

    ¡°It¡¯s almost time for us to attend the morning debate session. Let¡¯s find some good seats up on the balcony!¡± If he was hoping that the thought of the debate session would perk up the group, he was mistaken. To us, it sounded like swallowing a bucket of sand while dying of thirst.

    At least I didn¡¯t have to pay attention while making my mental map of the building for later. It wasn¡¯t a complicated labyrinth like the Booker¡¯s place. Everything was laid out to make it easier for the government employees to move from department to department as they were needed.

    Patrick and the teachers ushered us through the doors and onto the first-floor balcony, which gave us a great view of the entire chamber. A few dozen MPs were already sitting in their assigned places, with the speaker of the house rambling through an order list before things got underway. I made extra sure to sit next to Felipe at the front, with Samantha sitting on my other side. We were allowed to whisper to each other, so long as we didn¡¯t interrupt the proceedings in the chamber.

    Samantha was looking extremely disillusioned, ¡°I don¡¯t think that politics is for me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t disagree. Though the people sitting down there don¡¯t worry about the fine details of how to run a government department. They show up twice a month, rubber stamp their vote, and go back to their countryside palaces with nary a thought spared.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s brow raised, ¡°They get paid for that?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re already rich.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but if a poorer MP were to be elected ¨C they¡¯d need to receive a wage.¡±

    That was a very big ¡®if,¡¯ most of the MPs were from established noble families or big businesses. Running a campaign was expensive and the urban areas didn¡¯t have an appropriate level of representation in the house for their population. With many of those poorer, republican MPs being non-noble businessmen, even the lower end of the scale was packed with big money. But anything was an improvement over the Monarchy to some. More progress would come with time and patience.

    I had to remind myself that this was a world with a chequered history involving evil overlords and prophecies of doom, not just a recreation of post-industrial-revolution politics from my universe.

    ¡°How much do they make?¡±

    ¡°Eighty-thousand marks a year.¡±

    Samantha exhaled, ¡°Never mind. I¡¯d happily do this job for that much money.¡±

    It was more than her farm made in profit, that was for sure. The real money was made by advancing bills to advantage yourself and your family. Every campaign expense was just an investment that led to the influence they needed.

    The speaker banged his gavel and called the parliament to order.

    ¡°To begin, we will proceed with the member¡¯s speeches on bill thirty-nine, expanding the jurisdiction of the city¡¯s court to Farman Yard. Mister Walter-Jones, if you would please begin.¡±

    Walter-Jones stood from his chair and approached the smaller podium that rested beneath the speaker¡¯s chair. After shuffling through his papers and clearing his throat, he started to make his argument for the bill.

    ¡°In recent years, Farman Yard has become an increasingly important part of the city¡¯s economy, but until now it remained under its local jurisdiction. With the addition of a seat to the house to represent its citizens, it is only natural that the local court be merged with the metropolitan one. Assurances have been made that the judges, clerks and lawyers will retain their existing positions, but it will allow the metropolitan court to hear appeals on decisions made there.¡±

    My eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head. I slumped back into my seat and stared at the pattern on the wall behind the stage. It was a strange combination of green and blue, almost like the feathers of a peacock. Whatever it was ¨C it did a much better job of catching my attention than Walter-Jones¡¯ impassioned pleas to his colleagues to approve the merging of the courts.

    This bill was almost certain to pass so I wasn¡¯t sure why he was bothering with a long speech. It had cross-party support, unifying the legal structure of the area and promising more resources for the previously deprived outer areas of the city. Every bill had to be debated as a matter of constitutional law. Some of the members took that responsibility more seriously than others.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get what they¡¯re talking about,¡± Samantha murmured with a befuddled expression.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have property disputes in your home town?¡± I queried, ¡°Courts deal with that kind of thing or criminal cases like murder and robbery.¡±

    ¡°Oh! I get it now, but we don¡¯t have a court back home. Property disputes are usually resolved by both families getting into a big fight.¡±

    Maria and I were aligned in our response; ¡°That does not sound very proper to me.¡±

    Her shamefaced response told the tale, ¡°Our town is a little... behind the times.¡±

    I turned around in my chair and spied Claude sitting in the back row on his lonesome. Max was also isolated, sitting on the far left next to one of the teachers. Adrian was also at the back doing his best to keep his eyes open and his head tilted upwards. Even though the two friends weren¡¯t speaking or even in eyesight of one another, they were still sporting bitter faces, unwilling to let the masks crack for one second. There was at least an hour of this to go. I was almost wishing for someone to burst through the door and fire a gun in the air.

    ¡°I wish this place was still a theatre,¡± Samantha lamented.

    I was counting the seconds that dragged on with each sequential speaker. It wasn¡¯t much of a debate. Though some did have objections to the urban council taking legal responsibility for a formerly independent area, they didn¡¯t have the votes to effect any real change in the bill. It was highly unlikely that any minds were going to be changed through their impassioned words.

    I was waiting for the penny to drop ¨C the moment when everything went to hell. It was coming, I could feel pimples breaking out on the surface of my skin. I started to sweat and my heart pounded with freshly bled adrenaline. Time started to speed up as my anticipation grew. This wasn¡¯t paranoia. It was the result of a life spent killing and avoiding being killed in return.

    I heard the click of the door opening.

    There was no time to worry about being found out. I turned around in my seat and glanced at the shady-looking man who was trying to sneak onto the balcony without permission. The doors had been left unlocked, though that would prove to be a boon in an emergency situation. I recognised him. He was one of the assholes who fled through the front door during our last shootout at the party. His hand was already reaching into the folds of his jacket to withdraw some type of weapon. A flash of chrome and a straight handle screamed ¡®knife¡¯ to me. He was planning on running to the front row and stabbing Felipe to death.

    Not if I had anything to say about it.

    I leapt from my chair and into the aisle. He drew his blade and charged towards the front, seemingly ignorant to the fact that I was standing right in front of him and obscuring his path. Going one on one with a knife-wielding maniac was a bad idea. I had no window to draw and fire my gun with him moving so quickly. I tilted my upper body forward and looked down to the floor. He collided with me, trying to push me aside with brute force instead of getting caught up in using it on me. That was his biggest mistake.

    With a mighty heave and a roar, I flipped him over the railing by pushing myself up from under his stomach. His weight pulled me off balance, and we staggered back towards the railing that separated us from the main hall. When the weight left my back and shoulders, the fight was punctuated with a loud yell of shock as he fell from the first story, which was several feet above the ground, and crashed into one of the empty desks with an almighty clatter. He was out cold and possibly sporting a couple of fractured bones for the effort.

    It all happened so swiftly that none of the spectators were capable of understanding it. A complete stranger had charged down the middle of the aisle wielding a knife, and I¡¯d tossed him over the edge and into the main atrium in retaliation. Felipe gripped the armrests of his seat and stared at me.

    ¡°What the heck was that?¡±

    I stood up straight and cracked my aching shoulders, ¡°Self-defence.¡±

    Nobody knew what was going on. Things only set into motion once he staggered off of the table with the knife still in his hand. His unconsciousness did not last for long, but he was going nowhere with the injuries he''d gained from the tumble. They caught on after that. Some of the guards in the theatre rushed over and dragged him away before he could harm one of the MPs. Meanwhile, Patrick and the teachers decided that now was a good time to make ourselves sparse before someone else came to try and finish the job.

    The speaker banged his gavel and the session was adjourned in short order.

    "There''s an incident in the house! Everyone, please make their way to the exit!"

    Felipe peered over at the carnage, ¡°You just threw him over the balcony.¡±

    ¡°He was trying to stab you.¡±

    ¡°S-Sure, but I didn¡¯t know you were strong enough to do something like that!¡±

    Samantha joined the chorus, ¡°I saw you in the changing room, but I didn¡¯t realise that you were robust enough to do that to someone.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°And why, pray tell, were you staring at me in the changing room?¡±

    Samantha deflected my inquiry, ¡°Everyone else was doing the same thing. They were just curious about some of the rumours that they¡¯d heard.¡±

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    Tales of my athletic prowess, hard-earned through years of training, were not news to me - but being the subject of intense scrutiny in the changing room was. I foolishly thought for a moment that their unrestrained gawping would be prevented by their politeness. There was no getting around it. I couldn¡¯t demand to be let out and change elsewhere without raising more questions.

    ¡°I like to train my body as well as my mind. Is there a problem with that?¡±

    Samantha and Felipe frantically shook their heads, ¡°Not at all!¡±

    Patrick was herding the rest of the students to the door, ¡°Everyone ¨C please stay calm and follow me to the emergency exit! Security is going to make sure that the building is safe before the session can resume!¡±

    He was the one panicking the most. Very few of the kids on the trip were present at Beatrice¡¯s party, so they thought that this whole thing was exciting. That wouldn¡¯t last for long as we stepped out into one of the offices behind the balcony. Two armed men were cresting the stairwell now that their primary plan had been scuttled by my presence. Naturally, the group headed the other way to try and shake them. This was bad. I could tell that there were more of them moving in to try and pincer us. Where the hell were the guards?

    I grabbed Felipe by his arm and dragged him across the floor, between the dividers. I couldn¡¯t hope to keep him hidden even in a large office space like this. One of the others wouldn¡¯t be able to keep their mouth shut under duress. I wanted space to manoeuvre.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t we going to follow Patrick?¡± Felipe yelped, unable to fight back against my grip. My point was proven moments later as a collection of screams echoed from the other side of the room. Three more armed goons had ascended from the other side to try and trap us. Felipe¡¯s eyes met mine and he implicitly understood that I was the person to follow if he wanted to leave the building in one piece. I stretched down and unzipped the side of my skirt just in case I needed to pull my gun.

    The office wasn¡¯t left lacking in hiding spots thanks to the cubicles, but the only way out was to use the stairs. Hoping that they wouldn¡¯t search this area was not a sound strategy with so many of them entering the room.

    ¡°What are you people doing?¡± Patrick bellowed, ¡°This is a government building! Put those guns away immediately!¡±

    ¡°Stay the hell out of our way, arsehole.¡±

    I could hear them scuffling. To give credit to Patrick, he was doing what he could to keep the tour group safe.

    ¡°Stay right there!¡± the man commanded, ¡°I don¡¯t want any funny business from you lot. You play along and we won¡¯t hurt any of you.¡±

    Another voice cut in with a complaint, ¡°Why are you doing this with one hand tied behind our backs? I don¡¯t want to babysit a bunch of kids.¡±

    ¡°Because the boss is here, idiot. He wants this done properly. The last try was a total bloody mess! So, don¡¯t embarrass yourself in front of him or you might get left here for the police to catch.¡±

    ¡°That didn¡¯t stop him from bringing Eidos along...¡±

    Loose lips sink ships, and so too do they provide a font of helpful information about what was going on. They were so confident in their control of the building that they were willing to talk openly about their plan. Even better ¨C the man partly responsible for this mess was here with them to direct things personally.

    ¡°They¡¯re here for me again,¡± Felipe whispered.

    ¡°I figured as much.¡±

    ¡°But they have everyone else as hostages, what are we going to do?¡±

    ¡°Keep our heads down and try to slip past them, what else? They can¡¯t use leverage if we refuse to play by their rules.¡±

    It was risky, but given that one of them just commented about keeping things under control and presumably limiting civilian involvement, it was no riskier than what I did at the Bookers¡¯ party. I put my hand on Felipe¡¯s back and pushed him along in a crouched stance to keep our heads from poking over the top. This was all about timing. I found a good place to stop on the penultimate row before the stairs.

    ¡°We¡¯re looking for Felipe Escobarus, and don¡¯t give us a pack of lies before we ask where he is. We know he¡¯s here in the building, and he¡¯s meant to be with you. Where is he?¡± A nervous silence covered the group in response. Most of them didn¡¯t even know, I¡¯d grabbed him and moved away before they had a chance to understand what was happening.

    The other man butted in, ¡°Hold on a second. There¡¯s somebody else missing.¡±

    The ruffling of paper was followed by a horrified gasp. Not wanting to show their hand, they remained silent on what exactly had elicited the reaction. They had a register of everyone who was coming on this trip. The only people missing were me and Felipe. They must have figured out that I was the one responsible for the collapse of their last plan. There were several living witnesses who got away to tell the tale.

    ¡°They can¡¯t have gone far!¡± he barked, ¡°Spread out and search the room. You two, watch the stairs.¡±

    Magic wasn¡¯t necessary to get their locations this time. The floor of the room was tiled, and the fine art of subtlety was lost on them as they pounded against it in heavy boots. I honed in on their movements and tried to map out where they were in relation to us. There was some commotion coming from the floor below us as well.

    ¡°Now!¡±

    Felipe almost fell to the ground as I pulled him along with me to the next hiding spot. We ducked into another cubicle and kept watch as one of the assassins passed us by without sparing a second glance. The pressure of the holster against my leg was an ever-present reminder that I had to pick a moment to reveal that I was armed. We wouldn¡¯t get to the stairs with someone watching them. I needed to act quickly and take them out before they could stop us.

    Claudius decided that now was the best time to speak after hours of complete silence, ¡°You do know that the police are going to be here any minute? All we have to do is stand here and wait.¡±

    The team leader was not amused; ¡°You¡¯ve got a big mouth, lad. We already know exactly how long we can stay here before things get too hot ¨C so I wouldn¡¯t go counting those chickens before they hatch. With such an important group of hostages, we can make ¡®em stall for however long we like.¡±

    Max was firm, ¡°Stop trying to be a hero, Claude. Just shut your mouth and sit here.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that you¡¯re okay with this!¡±

    ¡°I never said that did I? Of course I¡¯m not okay with it!¡±

    Their little argument worked to my benefit. That level of background noise was enough for us to move without worrying about catching their attention. From booth to booth, we moved, occasionally packing ourselves into the small workspaces and making ourselves look as small as possible. Once I was sure that we were at the right distance from the stairs and out of range of their reaction time, I pulled the gun from my leg and unlatched the safety.

    ¡°Where did you get that?¡± Felipe hissed, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that you¡¯re going to shoot at them!¡±

    ¡°Now isn¡¯t the time to complain,¡± I replied.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t turn yourself into a murderer for my sake!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about that.¡±

    Not wanting to waste any more time, I pulled him along with me and burst out from our hiding spot. My free hand took aim at the man standing at the top of the stairs and pulled the trigger. A deafening bang brought about another bout of screams from the tour group. The man¡¯s head whipped back with a spray of crimson, and his flaccid body tumbled down the steps and disappeared out of sight.

    ¡°I crossed that line a long time ago.¡±

    Felipe was left stunned and silenced. There was already another man coming up from below to try and find out what was going on. We made a break for it, running up the stairs to the second floor and leaving the rest of the group behind. Felipe¡¯s legs were like jelly thanks to the stress. He wasn¡¯t used to this sort of thing. I had to keep that in mind before I tried to do anything.

    We tore down the corridor as fast as our legs could carry us. Felipe finally found his voice, ¡°You killed him, you really killed him!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re trying to kill you!¡± I snapped back.

    I took a sudden left as one of the men crested the stairs and fired at us. One hapless office worker was almost struck as the bullet ripped through a pile of nearby papers, kicking them up into the air. That second gunshot was enough to confirm their worst fears ¨C they were caught up in the middle of a shootout. Those who remained behind started to panic and rushed towards the stairs to try and get away.

    To our benefit, that meant that the assassins were pushed back by a swarm of civilian bodies, and considering that they¡¯d been instructed to keep things clean for now ¨C they would struggle to follow us. I took full advantage of this and used what knowledge I had gathered about the building to plan our next move. We needed to get somewhere safe so I could drop Felipe off and stand guard. It was highly unlikely that the police were going to sit idly by and let a gang of criminals run wild in the nation¡¯s parliament building with some of the sitting members still inside.

    My target was a nearby side room which we could hide in for the time being. I threw Felipe inside and slammed the door shut behind us, quickly dragging a chair over and jamming it beneath the handle to prevent them from getting inside. Felipe slumped down against the wall and caught his breath. I hadn¡¯t broken a sweat yet.

    ¡°Did you really need to do that?¡±

    I turned to him with a glower, ¡°Would you have preferred for him to shoot us dead instead? Because that was what was going to happen if I didn¡¯t attack first.¡±

    Felipe was scrambling for purchase and his questions weren¡¯t getting the answers he wanted. He rephrased it to be more direct, ¡°You don¡¯t seem to mind at all. You just killed a man and you¡¯re treating it like this happens every day!¡±

    ¡°Is that the impression I give?¡±

    ¡°You knew right away what was about to happen. You threw that man from the balcony when he had a knife, you grabbed me and snuck around them, and now you¡¯ve barricaded us in here. There¡¯s no imaginable way that your parents taught you any of this!¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°Any other explanation I can give you is just as unpalatable as the one you suggest. If you are concerned for my mortal soul, then you needn¡¯t worry over something which has already been blackened with the blood of another man. I do not feel a shred of guilt for a cold-blooded killer meeting his end while attempting to commit a crime.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you the same?¡±

    ¡°Cold-blooded, perhaps, but I only fight back when someone else begins this conflict. It shouldn¡¯t have to be said that I¡¯d prefer to be anywhere else but here right now.¡±

    Felipe looked down at my gun hand, ¡°And where did you get that?¡±

    ¡°I brought it with me.¡±

    ¡°You smuggled a gun onto the academy grounds?¡± he exclaimed. I ignored his question, not wanting to reveal too much information without a good reason.

    ¡°The bottom line is that there are a group of people out there who want to murder you. They have access to the building and knowledge of our schedule. That means they have a way of gathering that information from an inside source.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t shift the topic on me, Maria. Don¡¯t pretend that killing someone doesn¡¯t have an effect on you! Why would you do something like that for my sake?¡±

    Walking him through the psychological compulsions I suffered was a waste of effort. That would mean wading into the weeds of my reincarnation and existing understanding of this world. I scratched the back of my head and exhaled, ¡°Because you haven¡¯t done anything wrong, of course. Is it not the most ordinary position to oppose sinners and protect the innocent?¡±

    ¡°But...¡±

    ¡°How many people do you suppose that man had killed, or how many do you think he had a hand in killing before he came here? Dozens? A hundred? More? He was free to do as he pleased despite having committed those crimes, yet he chose to come to this building to try and kill you. At every stop along the way he made the incorrect assessment. He didn¡¯t die because I shot him, he died because he placed himself into a position to be shot.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s too callous.¡±

    ¡°It is, but I don¡¯t feel guilty about doing it. I¡¯m sure that he would have gone on to inflict suffering on other families without a moment of remorse.¡±

    At the heart of my hypocrisy was an acknowledgement of how the outcome was more important than the means. Everyone placed different values on different things. Human life was something that many universally agreed was the most precious of all. It was the complete encapsulation of your existence and experience.

    Without life, there was no meaning to anything you did. In the face of that, did it matter if what you did was morally reprehensible or not? In an ideal world nobody would need to commit crimes, nor would they feel the desire to hurt others. We did not live in an ideal world. For as long as people were incentivised to do wrong, wrong would continue to exist.

    My ambition was limited to what I could reach. I was no hero. I was an individual making those small judgements for myself. This penance was one paid back in the only way that I knew how, it was the one thing that I excelled in above all else, violence. If by chance that violence protected thousands of other future victims from the same situation, then so be it.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to stay here until the fighting is over.¡±

    ¡°But what about the rest of the class? They¡¯re being held at gunpoint as we speak.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re here for you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to let my personal well-being be the reason for others getting hurt,¡± he said resolutely, ¡°There has to be something we can do.¡±

    I turned away from the door for a second and made my case, ¡°There¡¯s nothing you can do.¡±

    ¡°But!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you think, Felipe. There are dozens of heavily armed killers running around this building as of this moment. I¡¯m going to offer you a choice. I can stay here and watch the door until the police arrive, or you can send me out there to try and find out where they¡¯re being held.¡±

    Felipe bit his lip and considered my deal. He understood that I was right on the first point ¨C he didn¡¯t have any training in firearms, nor was he a trained assassin like me. The best he could do was stumble blindly around the offices before being shot in the back and executed. Asking me to leave split the difference. He was sacrificing his safety for the sake of the class, but without futilely throwing his life away in the process.

    ¡°Fine. Do that. I don¡¯t think I could live with myself if one of the first-years got killed because of this. But are you sure you can handle this?¡±

    ¡°I will give you a hint ¨C who do you think fought back during the attack on Beatrice¡¯s house, exactly?¡±

    Recognition. His eyes widened as he finally connected the dots. Perhaps he knew from the start that this was the case, given the evidence on hand, but was unwilling to accept it as fact. It was an utterly ridiculous turn of events. There was no way to blame him for second-guessing himself.

    ¡°That was you?¡±

    I said nothing more and unblocked the door, ¡°You need to close this behind me after I leave, and don¡¯t open it for Claude again if he comes knocking.¡±

    He spoke with resignation; ¡°Okay.¡±

    The door clicked shut and I raised my gun into a firing position.

    It was time to go hunting.

 Chapter 44

    With the tour group corralled into one corner of the office on the first floor, the men fanned out and launched a pursuit for the girl who ran away with Felipe in tow. Even when they were acting vigilantly and with significant preparation, she was still capable of fighting back. One of their gang members was already lying in a pool of his blood at the midway point of the stairwell. Eidos and Erwin were already on the scene.

    ¡°Bloody hell, she¡¯s already killed one of us!¡± Eidos exclaimed.

    He knelt to inspect the body. The bullet had travelled clean between his pectoral muscles and undoubtedly struck the heart. If not for his own experience with the culprit he¡¯d describe it as a fluke. A moving shot delivered with deadly accuracy. It was a testament to her reactions that she killed him in such a manner. Eidos made sure to retrieve his gun and the ammo he was carrying. Maria would happily use it against them if she got her hands on it.

    The team leader who Erwin assigned to the main wing of the building looked as hapless as he was stupid, slack-jawed and paralysed by the sudden downturn in his fortunes. Erwin scowled and forced himself to dispense some discipline before things fell apart again.

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me they fled upstairs? They could be anywhere in the building by now.¡±

    The leader grimaced, ¡°We¡¯ve blocked the staircases and encircled every route they can take. There¡¯s no way that they can get past us without fighting through.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so you want to find them based on the sounds of gunfire? Do you have any idea how complicated the acoustics in this place are? You may as well poke your eyes and eardrums out now before you embarrass yourself,¡± Erwin fumed.

    Eidos was revelling in his frustration from beneath a cloth mask, ¡°Bossman ¨C you did say that you wanted to be here to make sure that we did this right.¡±

    Erwin adjusted his disguise and surveyed the men who survived the initial fight. A lot of them looked like scolded dogs, with tails tucked between legs and all the bravado drained from them. It was a serious hit to their confidence that the well-laid plan was already up in the air.

    Erwin painstakingly did everything in his power to make killing Felipe as easy as possible. He procured the schedule and location for each stop of the tour, made certain that every member of his gang knew what the target looked like, and gave them precise orders on where to go and what to do. A leaked police operational document even stated in plain text how long they had to complete the mission before they kicked the doors down to storm the place. He¡¯d burned almost all of the goodwill he maintained with the client in the process. This was their Hail Mary. If they didn¡¯t get results this time ¨C there wouldn¡¯t be another chance. Tens of millions of marks would disappear into thin air.

    ¡°Shut up. I¡¯ve bet everything we have on this one. If you mess it up, we¡¯re not getting paid. I don¡¯t want to hear any backtalk from the bloke who gets bested by a teenage girl in a ball dress and heels.¡±

    ¡°She wasn¡¯t wearing heels,¡± Eidos protested vainly.

    ¡°We can¡¯t afford to drag any of the other lads from hostage and door duty. We¡¯re going to have to make do with what we have now.¡± Erwin checked his gun and prepared to demonstrate his leadership by going in first, but there was one small problem to handle before that.

    Eidos held him back, ¡°Speaking of the client, he wanted to have a word with you.¡±

    ¡°Now? Is he mad?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t hire a gang of killers to go after a teenager without a few screws loose. He said he wanted to have a one-on-one chat with you about what¡¯s going on here.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t it wait?¡±

    Eidos shook his head, ¡°He¡¯s yammering on about withholding our pay if you don¡¯t talk with him as soon as possible. He knows that you¡¯re here.¡±

    Communication between the gang and their client was kept low-fi and out of sight of any potential interlopers, even if it meant that they couldn¡¯t always be on top of new developments as and when they happened. Erwin liked to do things the old-fashioned way, delivering letters through various means and insisting that the recipient burn them once they were opened and read. A detective couldn¡¯t piece together a pile of ashes. With Prier dead and lots of investigators snooping around it was more important than ever that Erwin protected their secrets.

    ¡°He¡¯s a bloody idiot, but I¡¯m not going to let his temper tantrum stop us from getting that money. Make sure that they get Felipe, I¡¯ll go and make sure he understands what position he¡¯s in.¡±

    Eidos saluted mockingly, ¡°Aye aye, sir.¡±

    ¡°And stop messing around!¡±

    Erwin stomped away and left Eidos in charge of the men. For Eidos, getting rid of the girl and killing Felipe were one in the same objective. She was the one who¡¯d flown the coop with him once she sensed that something strange was happening. It was exciting. Eidos was furious about his previous retreat, but fighting such a capable foe made his heart pound in anticipation.

    Eidos called everyone to attention, ¡°Alright. You, and you ¨C stay here and make sure that none of these hostages get away. The rest of us are going upstairs to help the others find this kid.¡±

    ¡°Is two people enough?¡± one of the men asked.

    Eidos clipped him around the ear, ¡°You think a bunch of kids and that fat arsehole are going to do anything? You¡¯ve got a gun! Just keep an eye on them. And once we see that girl, leave her for me. I owe her a little payback for what happened last time.¡±

    The gunmen formed up behind Eidos and followed him up the stairs. The two guards were happier to be left on babysitting duty than potentially ending up like their dead friend. They turned back to the huddle of children and teachers who sat with their legs crossed in the middle of the office space. What neither of them noticed was that one of the hostages had gone missing while they were distracted with Eidos and Erwin. One amongst a large crowd could easily go unnoticed.

    For Max ¨C it was sending him into an intense spiral of paranoia and worry. He turned to Samantha and hissed under his breath, ¡°What the hell is Claude thinking? He nearly got killed the last time he tried this stunt!¡±

    Samantha felt the same. Claude was pushing his luck again, delving headfirst into a tremendously dangerous situation for no good reason. They weren¡¯t in a position to stop him as he slipped away from the back of the group and hid behind one of the dividing walls. The last they saw of him was the back of his shoes disappearing around the stairwell in pursuit of the ringleader. The heavily armed, extremely dangerous ringleader, who wouldn¡¯t hesitate to put a bullet in him if he found him.

    Samantha whispered back, ¡°We can¡¯t chase him now. Those two are watching us, and I don¡¯t imagine they¡¯ll be well pleased seeing us run away to find our friend.¡±

    Max stared at the two intimidating presences. They were doing nothing but standing there, with one facing the group and the other turning to face the entryways into the office. The others were pulled away to chase after Felipe, which meant they didn¡¯t consider them a threat ¨C they were simply leverage to keep the police at bay. Before he knew it, he¡¯d already concocted a plan.

    ¡°Excuse me, may I please go to the bathroom?¡±

    The goon furrowed his brow, ¡°The bathroom? Where do you get off on making demands in a situation like this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not demanding anything,¡± Max said with a crack in his voice, ¡°We were sitting out there on the balcony for a long time and my bladder is... full to bursting.¡± He ended his statement with his glossiest, showman-like smile to try and win him over.

    ¡°Why should I care?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that you¡¯re a reasonable gentleman. Ask yourself what I would be capable of doing during the short walk from here to the washroom. It would be extremely uncomfortable for everyone involved if I were to wet myself.¡±

    It was a deeply embarrassing lie to weave, but Maxwell¡¯s acting left a lot to be desired and everyone in the class caught on to what he was doing. The two men left to stand guard did not have such discerning eyes. To them, this was a legitimate request from a terrified young man. Eidos¡¯ bloodthirsty nature was not shared by every member of the gang he belonged to. The room fell silent as both parties awaited the outcome of his bluff.

    The other man was conclusive, ¡°I don¡¯t want to smell some kid¡¯s piss for an hour while we¡¯re stuck here. Just take him.¡±

    His friend was not happy about being left on toilet duty, so he issued a final warning to the assembled hostages; ¡°This is the only time I¡¯m going to do this. Do any of you need to go as well?¡±

    Samantha sheepishly raised her hand. Nobody else dared take the chance.

    ¡°Fine. You two, come with me ¨C and don¡¯t try anything stupid.¡±

    Samantha and Max navigated their way through their sitting peers and followed the gunman as he led them down one of the side corridors to where the washroom was located. Max had not planned this far ahead, and the look of sheer panic on his face was starting to make Samantha worry about his intentions. Getting away from the group was no good if they couldn¡¯t shake the guard. Samantha put herself into the shoes of a rugged survivalist and tried to find something that would help. Staplers, rulers and stacks of unsorted paper were not going to win out against a gun.

    Samantha was a rough-and-tumble country girl at heart ¨C but that didn¡¯t mean she was ready to take on a dangerous criminal in a fight. All of the options she was considering would pose a risk to her and Max¡¯s lives. It needed to be fast, easy to use, and capable of surprising the guard so that they could knock him out without worrying about his weapon.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Something red, round and bright captured Samantha¡¯s attention. It was a fire extinguisher ¨C though she was completely unaware as to its true purpose and function. All she knew was that it looked heavy enough to send someone for a loop but light enough for her to lift it into the air. The only problem was how conspicuous it was. Unless there was some kind of distraction, there was no way she could grab it without being spotted first.

    ¡°Max, I need you to keep his attention while you¡¯re in the bathroom.¡±

    ¡°For how long?¡±

    ¡°Just a few seconds, but make sure it¡¯s loud.¡±

    Max nodded, his nerves were completely frayed. This was going to be dangerous. The man opened the washroom door and swivelled to face them with a grumpy demeanour.

    ¡°You go first, lad.¡±

    Max ducked his head and stared at the floor with the intent of not angering him any further. He pulled the door shut again and locked it from the inside. His mind was racing as he tried to come up with an appropriately flamboyant distraction. His first thought was a humiliating one, and he found himself questioning why he was willing to go so far for someone who he was presently at odds with.

    That intrusive flash of spite disappeared as quickly as it arrived. What the hell was he thinking? Claude was his best friend going on eight years now. Even if they were arguing, Max would be upset if he got hurt or worse, killed. He could give him an earful for sneaking away later. For the time being he had a guard to distract.

    Making certain that every movement and noise he made could be heard through the door, Max played the part as best he could, groaning and complaining as if he were passing a particularly problematic stool. The guard¡¯s face twisted into one of disgust, but he steadfastly remained by the door with his gun facing Samantha.

    Samantha tried to encourage him to go one step further, ¡°Are you alright, Max?¡± She picked up her voice so that it was clear to him that she wasn¡¯t able to get away yet.

    Max covered his face with his hands in shame. This was the most humiliating thing he¡¯d ever done. He pressed his ear to the door, but there was no sign that either person on the other side had moved.

    ¡°There¡¯s no toilet paper...¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t check before you sat down?¡± Samantha exclaimed as theatrically as she could manage.

    ¡°It was too urgent!¡±

    The plan was not effective, a point proven only seconds later as a loud cacophony of gunfire rained from upstairs ¨C vibrating through the walls and floors and sending Samantha running for cover. The man on watch was more concerned with the chaos than Samantha potentially getting away, which was exactly the window of opportunity she was hoping for.

    He pounded on the washroom door impatiently, ¡°Hurry up! I don¡¯t want to be standing here all day. Do you hear the damn racket going on up there?¡±

    With his back turned, he was completely ignorant to the fact that Samantha had rounded the corner, retrieved the red metal canister, and was how hoisting it over her head like a blunt weapon. A loud clang echoed through the corridor as she brought it down on his head with as much force as she could deliver. His body slumped to the floor in a heap. Samantha gasped and stepped back with the weapon still in hand.

    The washroom door clicked and Max peered through the crack.

    ¡°Bloody hell!¡±

    Samantha composed herself and grabbed his dropped gun, fiddling with the latch and dumping the unspent bullets onto the floor so that they couldn¡¯t be used. Max stepped over the unconscious body of their guardian with a grimace.

    ¡°That was rather uncouth.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t start talking like that now, of all times,¡± Samantha groaned, ¡°This is the worst situation to be doing the rich-boy act!¡±

    ¡°I was just joking ¨C trying to bring some levity, you know?¡±

    Samantha was in no mood for jokes. She placed the extinguisher back down and pocketed the gun just to be safe, even when she had no intention of pointing and shooting it at another person. Hitting someone with a blunt object was already going outside of her boundaries.

    ¡°We¡¯d better go before he wakes up. Did you see where Claude went?¡±

    Max nodded, ¡°Yeah ¨C he went this way. Hopefully he hasn¡¯t jumped in front of a gun yet.¡±

    <hr>

    From the first shot to the ensuing chaos that broke out in the parliament building, Claude was hyper-focused on one thing and one thing alone.

    This was the perfect chance for him to finally figure out what was going on with Maria. Not only was she the one who defended Felipe from a knife-wielding maniac, but she was conspicuous by her absence from the hostage situation that he found himself in. He¡¯d connected the dots as the sounds of gunfire. Yet he, nor had anyone else, seen the man falling down the stairs after Maria shot him.

    Claude took the first window of opportunity to scramble away as the evil henchmen discussed their dastardly scheme. It all sounded so easy in his head ¨C get away from the pack, find out what Maria was up to, and escape the building to heroically inform the police as to where his class was being held so that they could be rescued. Reality swooped down to slap him in the face soon enough as he discovered that the building was much too large for him to navigate, and even if he could there were armed guards everywhere he looked.

    Several close calls had him spiralling into a nauseating state of paranoia. It was infrequent for Claude to admit that he made any mistakes, but in this case, he couldn¡¯t help it. There was no rationalising how stupid he¡¯d been by running away from the group. The only purpose it seemed to serve was to get him shot and killed.

    Salvation came in the form of an empty office space, which Claude relished like the last few drops of water in a vast desert. The calamitous noise from the floor above showed no signs of slowing down. It had to be Maria, or the guards who were stationed inside the building who were caught flat-footed by the incursion.

    Tucked into one of the booths, once occupied by a paper-pushing government worker, Claude felt a seed of doubt being planted into his mind. All that big talk about being some kind of ace detective, cracking cases that nobody else could; but he¡¯d totally failed on one aspect that his father always made sure to emphasise to him. Understanding. Not the understanding of the technical details, that was something anyone with time and a few books could manage. To be an effective police inspector demanded an understanding of people and an understanding of compromise.

    ¡®The biggest puzzle isn¡¯t the crime itself ¨C it¡¯s navigating your way around the different people who are involved with it. The victims, the preparators, and the witnesses. What separates a good detective from a bad one is their ability to figure out what makes them tick, and then using that insight to get the information you need.¡¯

    Claude loved it when his Father entertained his aspirations and told him things like that, but he was never much good at implementing them. How could he hope to understand or work with a hostile witness when he couldn¡¯t even stop himself from offending his best friend?

    Some detective he was.

    The pity parade was not to last. Claude heard one of the doors in the room opening, which meant that he was in danger again. He thought fast and headed to the nearest office room that split off from the main area. It was a small space intended for a higher-ranking manager to work in peace, but now it was the only place he had left to hide. Luckily, there was also a large cabinet that was intended to be used to store papers. Claude hurried inside and pulled the doors shut behind him. He silenced his breathing and peeked through the small crack.

    The wait was agonising, but that was nothing compared to the sense of pure, undistilled dread he felt when the footsteps got closer and closer before two figures entered the very same room to join him. Of all the places they could have chosen to go!

    Worst of all ¨C it was the guy who barked orders at the other criminals earlier. He was holding someone at gunpoint. Claude angled himself to try and get a clearer view of who it was.

    Mister Roderro?

    Claude had only seen him a few hours ago, greeting his son and the rest of the group as they experienced the tour. Roderro sighed and positioned himself against the desk.

    ¡°Was there any need to point the gun at me?¡±

    The masked man shook his head, ¡°The safety was on. With everything else that¡¯s happening right now, I think me shooting you in the back is the least of your worries. What would you do if someone saw us walking through this building like best buddies?¡±

    Roderro frowned, ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll leave it at that.¡±

    Claude had a bad feeling about this. He was witness to something he wasn¡¯t supposed to be. They were talking like they knew each other, and the implication in their words was clear. Roderro was a party to the scheme.

    Roderro wagged his finger, ¡°I understand perfectly well that this is your best chance to kill the Escobarus boy, but I hope that you¡¯re taking great care not to cause too much trouble. Money can pave over many a crack ¨C but the police will be very motivated to find you and your friends after this is over with.¡±

    Erwin was tense, ¡°We¡¯ve been doing this for long enough to know. Once this job is done, we¡¯ll be gone. You won¡¯t ever hear our names or see our faces again.¡±

    ¡°And about the thing we discussed before...¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry. We¡¯ve got him locked up tight on the second floor, and I¡¯ve given them explicit orders to leave them alone just in case. If any of those bums fires a single shot in their vicinity, I¡¯ll personally strangle them and toss them into the waiting arms of the nearest police officer.¡±

    ¡°Good. I needn¡¯t say that I¡¯m feeling antsy about this entire ordeal. I mean it when I say that this is our very last chance. If this much is not enough, then there is nothing more to be said.¡±

    Claude couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. There was a gunfight happening upstairs during all of this, yet here they were talking casually in one of the building¡¯s offices like it was nothing unusual. It was the Roderros who were trying to kill Felipe. They were the scorned suitors who attempted to annul the marriage through murder!

    ¡°You¡¯re ice cold. Killing a young lad for something like this.¡±

    ¡°When you saw the money at stake you understood perfectly well. There are limits to everything, even the value of a human life. If Adrian gets to marry Beatrice ¨C it¡¯ll be the biggest business merger to happen in this city since its founding. I can give you anything you want. Age doesn¡¯t have to be a factor with so much on the line.¡±

    Erwin hung his head and chuckled throatily, ¡°I¡¯m not criticising you for it. I¡¯ve killed a lot of folks both directly and indirectly. If we can¡¯t get this job done now then getting arrested is just about what we deserve. I¡¯d rather die than live with that sort of humiliation.¡±

    ¡°Is that your way of saying that you¡¯ll do whatever it takes?¡±

    ¡°We already are. What else would you call launching an assassination attempt in the parliament building?¡±

    Roderro concurred, ¡°Whatever it takes, indeed. On the other hand ¨C it¡¯ll help advance a bill some of our party has been working on to tighten security around here. Happy coincidences are my favourite sort.¡±

    Claude¡¯s ears burned. He never would have suspected that Roderro was responsible. Adrian was ill-mannered and hot-headed, but not murderous. It was entirely possible that he had no idea about what his Father was planning to do. As the silence settled over the room, Erwin looked up to the ceiling.

    ¡°Hm. The shooting¡¯s stopped.¡±

    ¡°Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?¡±

    ¡°Depends on who won. I¡¯d better go check things out. I came here to give this one a personal touch, after all.¡±

    Claude breathed a sigh of relief.

    ¡°By the way. Did you hear something?¡± Erwin posited.

    ¡°No. Why?¡±

    Erwin turned on his heel and faced the cabinet ¨C his eyes almost meeting with Claude¡¯s. In his scramble to push himself deeper into the concealing dark, he only made his presence more evident.

    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s just a rat in the walls.¡±

    Claude couldn¡¯t move, even as he saw his gun-toting arm rising into the air and taking aim. A deafening blast filled the air. He was forced back as a terrible impact struck him in the abdomen. The shock of the attack precluded the intense pain that followed. Claude clenched his teeth and resisted the urge to fall through the doors and tumble out onto the office floor.

    ¡°Good heavens! What are you doing?¡± Roderro wailed.

    ¡°Get out of here before someone comes running,¡± Erwin barked. Roderro hurried out of the office and left Erwin to stand in a cloud of his gun smoke.

    Erwin approached the cabinet and pulled it open, revealing the slumped-over form of the boy who he¡¯d just shot blindly through the wooden casket. A hiding place and a grave, all in one. Claude was already drenched in blood that poured from the open wound, but he was still breathing somehow. Erwin didn¡¯t know how young he was before he fired, but the age of his victim had no impact on him. He was just another witness to be taken care of.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry mate. You¡¯re only worth one bullet.¡±

    Erwin didn¡¯t have time to waste worrying about him. The men upstairs were still fighting to find Felipe. In truth, he didn¡¯t care one bit about what happened to Roderro so long as he got his payout. But for as long as he was contracted to work under him, he was going to do things right.

    His pride wouldn¡¯t allow any less.

 Chapter 45

    It didn¡¯t take a clairvoyant to see that two dozen armed men and women were flowing onto the third floor behind us. This operation was the very definition of a blunt instrument. It was executed with a single-minded intent to kill Felipe no matter the cost, both physically and socially. It didn¡¯t matter how many of them were killed or caught, the ends justified the means because a lot of money was on the line. This was the kind of job that would make a hitman for life.

    The two prior failures at the academy and the party demanded swift and firm retribution. They were willing to attack the seat of the nation¡¯s government to get another shot at him. Despite the high stakes, it was clear that someone smarter was pulling the strings this time. They were using tactics that made the men at the party look like a bushel of bumbling idiots. We were surrounded from the moment that the fighting kicked off, and they were going to keep it that way for as long as possible.

    I needed to keep them away from Felipe until the police decided to get off of their asses and do something. There was one problem with that plan ¨C I only brought two magazines with me. The Burs pistol had a higher capacity than a six-shot revolver, but it was still less than ideal when I was facing down such a huge gang of enemies. Each missed shot would sting and make my life even harder than it was already. Running out of cover and picking up another gun or pilfering their bodies for extra bullets was a recipe for disaster.

    There was only one thing I could do. Kill as many of them as possible with the ammo I had on me. They¡¯d already boxed me into the large room, to which several other smaller offices were connected. My presence here would clue them in that Felipe was hiding nearby. I really hoped that he was doing his best to barricade that door and that he was heeding my advice to stay out of the way in case they fired through it to try and hit him.

    Visibility in the office was just as poor as the floor below. Rows and rows and rows of office desks, cabinets stuffed with documents and dividers filled the entire room from end to end. It was a double-edged sword. I could surprise them, but they could also surprise me. Given their numbers advantage, I¡¯d have bet my money on them coming out on top.

    But I¡¯d somehow managed to get this far without biting it, and this didn¡¯t feel like the right place to die. It wasn¡¯t climatic enough. If I was being used to mete out some kind of justice unto these people, then there were still those who were out of my reach. Eidos and the leader of the gang were still missing. This story wasn¡¯t over until they were dead. Then and only then would I be disposed of. For the small chance that I could keep living though, I was going to fight on. I knew better than to ask for divine intervention.

    I wanted to have the first strike. Carefully creeping around the edge of the dividers, I caught a glimpse of some of the gunmen who were sweeping the area searching for me. They were better armed and a lot smarter than the folks who crashed the party. Some of them had shotguns, rifles, and even semi-automatic pistols. They broke the bank to make sure that this one kicked off with a bang.

    ¡°Did Eidos see a little girl shooting back at the party?¡± one of them pondered idly.

    ¡°Jay was there ¨C and he said that he saw her with his own two eyes! Can you believe it, what the hell are they teaching those kids these days?¡±

    ¡°Jay? He makes crap up all the bloody time.¡±

    The other rolled his hand, ¡°And Eidos, and Erwin...¡±

    ¡°Fine. So, suppose that this mysterious little girl is real ¨C why is she posing so much of a problem to us? I thought Erwin was always boasting about how we¡¯re the baddest gang this side of the strait.¡±

    ¡°Doubtful, considering they let morons like you join.¡±

    I silence their inane discussion with a carefully aimed shot to the dome. The one who was so doubtful about my existence got a first-hand taste of how deadly I could be. The cheap mask he was wearing did nothing to prevent the bullet from travelling through his skull and splattering his brain matter all over his friend.

    ¡°Holy shit!¡± he cried, aiming his rifle in my direction.

    Too slow.

    Another shot sent him to the ground too. The remaining assassins shouted my location and scrambled for cover before I could follow up with more for my tally. I swivelled around to face the opposite direction, knowing that one of them was going to try and flank me from the other side. He forged ahead with a serious head of steam, only to tumble into the wall as I rocked him with a shot to the torso. He crumpled to the floor where I finished him with a follow-up to the head.

    Three kills in four bullets. Sometimes I impress myself.

    There was no time to sit back and admire the beauty of my handiwork. This was a game all about movement and positioning. I hurried over and grabbed the other gun. As I did, yet another goon hopped around the corner. With my off-hand I aimed my new weapon and forced him back with a sloppy shot, striking the booth to his left and sending shredded felt flying into the air. More cries as they tried to communicate my position. The mundanity of the office was ultimately their undoing. Which desk or divider was I hiding behind exactly? There were almost a hundred of them!

    ¡°We¡¯ve got you surrounded girl! Why don¡¯t you just put those guns down and come quietly back to the other hostages?¡± one of them yelled from across the way. I remained silent.

    ¡°Why the bugger are you trying to negotiate with her, you twit? There are two dozen of us here. Chase her down and kill her already!¡±

    Not exactly an inspired piece of leadership from the person responsible. Still, some of them decided to move their feet and try to surround me again. I ducked away as a wild shot from one of the rifles struck the ceiling and caused plaster to fall on my head. As I tried to cross one of the aisles, another enemy jumped out at me. I stumbled down onto my stomach, slid across the polished floor and unloaded into him with both pistols, forcing his body up and over into a backflip.

    Another opportunist was hot on his heels, trying to get one over on me now that his friend was already dead. I rolled through and barely avoided being shot in the ribcage. My sense of balance was thrown for a loop. I spun around and shot back using my off-hand weapon, forcing them to retreat. I was starting to run low on ammo, and they¡¯d love to take that chance and take me out while I was reloading. I needed to open up some space.

    The holster around my thigh didn¡¯t just hold my extra magazines and the gun. It was also where I¡¯d hidden the conductive spike I had stolen from the practice range. We were in a room filled with some extremely flammable materials, and Eidos¡¯ methodology had pushed me to learn a thing or two about how lightning magic worked. I stabbed the spike into one of the supporting pillars and clambered over the divider, before turning and pointing my finger through an invisible path in front of me and focusing on ionising the air. My hair stood on end as a thrum of energy passed around my nervous system.

    A deafening crack rang out through the office as a bolt of electricity shot from my finger and hit the spike, burning a clear hole through the felt wall and sending burning pages scattering across the room. Acting quickly, I reached down and swapped the magazine in my main pistol before they could get their bearings. Getting the spike back could wait for now.

    I hopped up onto one of the desks and took a potshot at one of the men who were still cowering from the lightning bolt I¡¯d shot a short distance. The papers were already starting to fill the room with smoke, and they¡¯d also lit several other things on fire too. Disrupting their teamwork with lights and noise was a perfectly valid strategy. I needed to even the odds somehow. A lot of people underestimated the impact of psychological warfare in a fight like this. The gang was already hesitating thanks to their current losses and the braying leadership of those who wouldn¡¯t risk themselves was not helping matters.

    At least, not until the doors swung open and another pair of men stepped through. I immediately recognised the body language of the man on the left. His hunched back and broad shoulders told me loud and clear that it was Eidos, wearing a stupid mask to try and hide his identity this time. His eyes met mine from across the room. Of all the times to perch on one of the desks like an eagle.

    The person on the right was firm, ¡°She¡¯s right there. Kill her already!¡±

    I was forced to leap down before they used my signposting to put a round through my chest. A hail of bullets followed, whizzing over my head and tearing through the upholstery as they blindly fired in my general direction. It was absolute chaos. There was no way to keep track of what was going on. I was running on nothing but pure instinct. By some miracle, I was able to get down onto the floor and avoid being hit by chance.

    The orchestra of bangs and pops slowed to a crawl as they tried to preserve some of their ammo, instead of wasting it all on the vague hope that one would kill me. Aside from the sound of burning pages, silence settled in the room. Not even the sounds of their boots against the tiled floor could be heard.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re there, Maria,¡± Eidos taunted, ¡°We¡¯ve got you outnumbered and outgunned. So why don¡¯t you quit this stupid game and come out so we can kill you the fast and painless way?¡±

    ¡°Why would I quit now, knowing that none of you bumbling fools are capable of beating me?¡± I quipped back.

    ¡°If you think that we¡¯re going to make the same mistakes again, you¡¯ve got another bloody thing coming. I don¡¯t care how good you are with a gun ¨C there are two dozen of us. We¡¯re watching all the exits! There¡¯s no way for you to get out of here! You better hope to the Goddess that I¡¯m not the one who gets his hands on you because you¡¯re in for a world of hurt if I do.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t your mother ashamed that you use the Goddess¡¯ name in vain so often?¡±

    ¡°The Goddess can kiss my arse for all I care! You don¡¯t have the ammo or the backup. So just quit while you¡¯re ahead and tell us where Felipe is. The Bossman might even decide to let you go if you do.¡±

    Eidos was a terrible negotiator. He¡¯d already threatened to burn me alive. Why would I believe any promises he made about my safety? And if we were talking about the karmic balance of things ¨C selling Felipe out to save my skin would probably lead to something equally dangerous happening to me in short order. There was no reason for me to agree to those terms. Eidos was not a man to be trusted.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll pass. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Stop wasting your breath Eidos,¡± the ¡®Boss¡¯ chided him, ¡°We don¡¯t need to be making any concessions to a little girl. Get in there and have your fun. We¡¯re on the clock here.¡±

    Eidos cheered, ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s get to it. Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you, lass!¡±

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    They started moving again.

    There were too many of them, I¡¯d need to find another gun and some ammo if I wanted to have the ability to clear them out. The lightning bolt trick was one thing, but using it repeatedly would sap my stamina and make me unable to fight effectively. It was a last resort if the worst case were to occur.

    Juggling all of these different resources, positions and threats was difficult ¨C so difficult that I failed to notice one of the gunmen getting ahead of himself and leaping out around the corner at me. I used both pistols, shooting once with the one in my left hand and again with the other. The borrowed pistol was now empty. But to my horror, he wasn¡¯t the only one sneaking up on me. There was another man behind me who used his friend as a convenient distraction. Unlike the previous time, this one was much more effective. I had nowhere to run.

    It was too late for me to do anything now. I was out of position and completely exposed. The goon even took his time to make sure that his killing shot wouldn¡¯t miss. I dropped the empty gun and briefly considered trying to shock him with lightning magic, but it would take too long. By the time my eyes were closed and my senses expanded he¡¯d already be pulling the trigger. My only hope was that he was about to miss.

    I closed my eyes and spread out, with my palm held flat and my teeth clenched. I put everything I had into making something, anything that resembled a spell that might prevent him from killing me. I heard the gun crack and waited to once again experience the feeling of having a piece of metal violently projected through my chest cavity.

    Seconds passed. The pain never arrived.

    I opened my eyes ¨C greeted by the equally confused expression of the person on the other end. Both they and I saw the exact same thing. That bullet was going to hit me. There was no uncertainty in my mind about that, yet it didn¡¯t. It disappeared into thin air as if it were never fired in the first place. I snapped back to reality and decided to worry about it later. I shot them back while they were busy wondering why their killing blow had gone awry.

    Whatever it was, it saved my skin at a pivotal moment.

    The downside was obvious. The way that the strength left my legs was the first clue as to what happened. I¡¯d used magic. Not a sort of magic that I was familiar with, but one that defied the rules I was taught to respect. Had I somehow managed to snatch that bullet from the air before it hit me? It was improbable. It was too fast for the human eye to recognise, never mind react to it.

    I grabbed hold of the desk and tried to collect myself before the next enemy found me. If I had a choice I would have avoided doing this. Overusing your magical energy was like a severe form of fatigue. Every muscle in my body was crying out for relief. There was no aching or pain, but I couldn¡¯t move them properly. It was as if I was drained of my energy and left as an empty shell.

    ¡°Shit!¡± I swore.

    What the hell was that spell I cast? I¡¯d not read about anything like that in the books in the library. There was no evidence or residue to clue me in. It was something extraordinarily powerful but equally subtle in execution. The kind of spell that they wouldn¡¯t teach to schoolchildren for fear of them losing fingers or limbs trying to use it without guidance.

    There was no time to worry about it now. They were closing in on me, and I had to get smart about how I was moving around the office. The smell of smoke was already suffocating. It stung the corners of my eyes and made it feel like a bag of dirt was being poured down my throat. I hurried over and looted one of the bodies for another (mostly full) gun. The other guy was carrying a double-barrelled shotgun; good stopping power, but lacked the capacity and was much heavier than a handgun. I still had a moment to pick it up though. Those two shots were enough for two more kills.

    I hoped that the noise we were making was enough to attract their attention.

    <hr>

    Samantha and Max were happy to find that most of the people who invaded the building were now rushing to the third floor to participate in a ferocious gunfight. As long as Claude wasn¡¯t chasing after them, it meant they could avoid most of the dangerous areas in the building. They had free reign of the place, which they used to meticulously search each and every room they came across for any signs of Claude¡¯s presence.

    ¡°Why did he decide to run away like that?¡± Max protested, ¡°I swear ¨C there¡¯s not a single thing rattling around in that thick skull of his.¡±

    ¡°Would you stop insulting him for one second and help me look?¡± Samantha responded, ¡°I understand that you¡¯re frustrated at him, but we¡¯re in a serious situation right now.¡±

    Max jumped as another spout of gunshots filled the air. He was on edge for a good reason. There was nothing wrong about venting some frustration in his eyes. He wandered between the aisles and poked his head through unlocked doors, each empty room adding to his stress levels. Where had Claude gotten to? They¡¯d only left him alone for a few minutes!

    But then a new layer was added to the chorus ¨C one which made their blood run cold.

    The dry croak of someone in distress.

    They followed the noise to another door. It was conspicuous by its presence as the only one that had been left open. Max and Samantha crept up to the office and peered inside, only for the air to leave their lungs as the distressing sight that lay in wait sprung its terrible surprise. Claude was there, on the floor, lying in a pool of his own blood. His hands clutched an area near his pelvis, which was bleeding profusely onto the floor below.

    ¡°C-Claud!¡± Max cried, rushing through and coming to a halt a foot away from him. The words left his mind and he found himself unable to speak or act.

    ¡°I studied some of the healing magic in the library...¡±

    ¡°A wound this severe cannot be healed by the magic of an amateur,¡± Max fretted.

    ¡°I understand perfectly well that I can¡¯t fix this!¡± Samantha retorted, ¡°I won¡¯t be able to heal this completely, but I should at least be able to stabilise the wound and stop him from bleeding. Hopefully, that will give us enough time to get him some proper help.¡±

    Even that was beyond what Max expected from Samantha. Healing magic was so difficult, temperamental and focus-orientated that it had been almost completely replaced by scientific methods brought about by modern biology. It was seen as impractical and outdated ¨C not fit to serve the needs of a rapidly expanding population, many of whom did not have access to magical healers.

    ¡°If we don¡¯t do something, Claude is going to die. I¡¯m not going to sit here and do nothing while we still have a chance.¡±

    Max clenched his fists, ¡°I know.¡±

    Samantha meant to do right by Claude. He knew that ¨C but placing something as important as another person¡¯s life into her hands was never going to sit well with him. What if she did something that only made the problem worse later, and what if it didn¡¯t work at all? Was she going to blame herself for not doing better?

    Samantha shuffled over to Claude¡¯s prone body and pulled aside the bloodied shirt he was wearing, revealing the full extent of the grisly injury that he¡¯d suffered at the hands of one of the gunmen. A display of nothing but callous cruelty, shooting down a young man without remorse and leaving him to die. Samantha was furious but she didn¡¯t let it show. She needed all of her cool and calm to successfully apply what she¡¯d read in the academy¡¯s libraries.

    Even though she found herself delving so deep into the art, now that she was faced with a situation that demanded remembrance she found the knowledge slipping through her fingers. She took a deep breath and tried to organise her thought process into something more understandable. To do so, she spoke aloud with Max about what she was doing.

    First, she needed to assess the wound.

    Samantha was not a squeamish girl ¨C but that was generally reserved for things like animal manure, cuts and nicks, and the occasional bout of illness. The still-bleeding hole that was punched through Claude¡¯s body caused her to grit her teeth. It had hit him just below the belt, penetrating above his pubis. It was incredibly difficult to spot the afflicted area beneath all of the blood.

    ¡°It looks like the bullet didn¡¯t enter any of his internal organs, at least I hope that¡¯s the case. Still, he¡¯s bleeding a lot. He might die if we don¡¯t act fast.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all on you, Sam. I don¡¯t know anything about healing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I just need someone to speak to.¡±

    Samantha pulled away the clothes that were getting in her way and considered her approach carefully. Removing the bullet without the proper tools was impossible. Healers could knit the flesh and blood vessels back together, but manipulation like removing a foreign body demanded the application of forces that would cause more harm than good. The broken skin was not the biggest risk to Claude¡¯s life. It was the ruptured veins inside. They were less demanding to put together but asked for a level of precision that a student couldn¡¯t hope to offer.

    Like any spell, it started with focus.

    Samantha closed her eyes and attempted to feel out the area inside. There was no wind entering the room to use as a sixth sense, so she fell back on a technique that one of the books suggested in the margins. She exhaled from her mouth, pursing her lips and forcing breath outwards to form a tiny, faint current that she could use to establish what was happening inside of his body.

    Samantha wasn¡¯t certain of how effective it would be, and the limitations soon became clear. Every time she stopped to take a breath, she was cut off from the image she was building and blinded again. She waved over to Max and spoke quickly.

    ¡°Actually, I need you down here. I need a current. Blow onto the wound, wave your hands, do anything.¡±

    Max had a better idea. He rounded the pair and grabbed one of the empty binders from the office desk. A large, leather-bound surface like this was much more efficient and reliable than using the human lung. He got into position and started to wave it back and forth above Claude¡¯s pelvis.

    ¡°That¡¯s perfect. Keep a steady pace.¡±

    Max¡¯s clever thinking was what Samantha was looking for. The ebb and flow of the makeshift breeze still restricted her sight, but it was like having an extra set of eyes versus what she was dealing with before. A swell of confidence rose in her chest. Things were looking up suddenly. Now it was down to her ability to recall what else the books said.

    ¡°I need to fix the bleeding without closing the wound. They¡¯ll have to remove the bullet later.¡±

    Healing was broadly grouped as ¡®light magic,¡¯ though light tended to elicit images of holiness, a stark contrast to the gory reality. The Goddess was said to be the bringer of light magic to humanity. Hundreds of years ago, those with an affinity for light magic were revered as those touched by the Goddess¡¯ grace. Such superstition was no longer in fashion with rationality coming to the fore, but there was some truth to the idea of one¡¯s affinity with a particular branch of the magical tree.

    Samantha was one of those people.

    The very reason she found herself so invested in what the books said was because of that affinity. It was something extremely advanced that she found herself enthralled with. It made her feel smart for understanding what the books said and how their teachings could be applied to the real world.

    She could see it ¨C the ruptured vein that was causing him to lose so much of his essence. There were other pieces embedded into the flesh and pieces of cracked bone from his pelvis. Discordant elements that didn¡¯t belong in the human body. If only she could drag them out and save the medics some time.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to knit the vein closed. Hold him still, please.¡±

    Max kept waving the binder over the wound, using his other hand to keep Claude from rolling over and disrupting Samantha¡¯s healing. Claude sensed that they were trying to do something and tried to stop himself from moving, but it was pure agony shooting up and down his spine. It was extremely difficult to keep himself still.

    ¡°Okay, here we go.¡±

    Samantha extended her reach down into the cavity and quickly locked on to the blood vessel in question. ¡®Knitting¡¯ was a technique considered the most basic of all healing magic. Regenerating lost tissue was expensive and time-consuming, so moving the separated fibres back together before doing so was considered more economical. Samantha carefully and calmly reiterated the instructions in her head, going slowly to ensure that she didn¡¯t cause more damage in the process. With the separated ends of the vessel brought close together ¨C she started the energy-intensive process of regenerating what was lost between them.

    ¡°Are you okay, Sam?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m almost there.¡±

    Samantha could feel the energy being sapped from her. It was enough to make her worry about whether she had the stamina to see the job through. That anxiety was misplaced. As a level four mage, Samantha had more than enough. Her face lit up in a bright smile as the vessel closed itself neatly and firmly. While she was at it, Samantha fixed up some of the other bleeding vessels until she felt her grip on things starting to slip. The bleeding was minimised and Claude could survive for much longer now.

    ¡°There. I did it.¡±

    Max was stunned, ¡°That¡¯s amazing! Where did you learn to do that?¡±

    Samantha shrugged, ¡°I just copied what I read in the books. The problem is we can¡¯t move him with a shattered pelvis and we don¡¯t have a surface to carry him with.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll stay here with him. You go tell the others what happened.¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°I can¡¯t go back now. We knocked out the guard, remember?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I forgot.¡±

    Max was too occupied with staring at his unconscious friend to recall every little detail. Samantha sensed that he wanted to stay behind and look after him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep watch outside and you stay here with him. You should barricade the door so they can¡¯t get in. Whoever shot him knows that he¡¯s here.¡±

    Max nodded, ¡°Okay. Be careful.¡±

    Samantha grabbed some of the blank papers from the desk and tried to clean away the blood that was soaking into the palms of her hands. It was a fool¡¯s errand. She needed some water and a towel to make any progress on that front. With everything taken care of for the moment, she headed through the door and pulled it shut behind her. Max locked it from the inside using the latch and started to push the desk in front of it so that they were safe.

    ¡°Please be okay,¡± she whispered. Not just regarding Claude, but Maria ¨C who was the one other person who was absent from the hostage group. Unbeknownst to her, Maria was already locked in a mortal struggle to survive in her own right.

 Chapter 46

    Max¡¯s heart was beating at a thousand miles a minute. Two factors were contributing to his elevated stress level. The first was the most obvious ¨C with Claude still in real danger of dying right in front of him or suffering a permanent injury thanks to the bullet still embedded into his flesh. The other was the racket coming from upstairs. Max had not seen an armed guard during their tour of the building, so he wasn¡¯t sure why there was such a riotous gunfight occurring.

    Who was doing it? Claude would have floated Maria¡¯s name ¨C but he remained entirely unconvinced of that. His Father told him that his life at the academy would be exciting and filled with new experiences. How badly Max now wished that his statement was a lie.

    ¡°Ugh. Augh! What the...¡±

    Max was not expecting Claude to awake from his state of unconsciousness, but if Claude was anything, it was stubborn. He wasn¡¯t going to go quietly without getting the last word. He peeled his eyes open and grit his teeth as the pain returned with a vengeance. It would have been better to stay sleeping. Claude¡¯s shattered pelvis was the single most painful thing he¡¯d ever experienced.

    ¡°Goddess above that hurts,¡± Claude groaned. His voice was hoarse. Even speaking those words was a significant amount of effort. Max kept a firm hand on his chest so that he didn¡¯t move and aggravate the already serious injury.

    Max launched directly into a tirade about his impulsive behaviour, ¡°What the bloody hell were you thinking? If you¡¯d just have stayed with the group, none of this would have happened. Look at you ¨C you¡¯re in a right state!¡±

    ¡°Can we save the recriminations for when I get fixed up, please?¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t much else we can do while all this chaos is going on outside.¡±

    ¡°Why do you care anyway? You didn¡¯t want anything to do with me a few hours ago,¡± Claude observed.

    ¡°There¡¯s a big difference between arguing with you and worrying about you being shot and killed, idiot. If we weren¡¯t here you would have died. Don¡¯t you ever think about how that¡¯d make your family and friends feel?¡±

    ¡°Sure I do!¡± Claude objected, ¡°But you¡¯re just mad because of what happened with your family. I¡¯m not trying to do anything like that.¡±

    ¡°I know you¡¯re not. That¡¯s not the only reason I don¡¯t like it. It¡¯s because you never consider the consequences before you go running off to do things like this. I¡¯m worried about you, I always am. I worry myself sick thinking that something like this is going to happen. Do you have any idea what I felt like when all of this violent stuff started happening? I knew you¡¯d be right in the middle of it somehow.¡±

    Claude closed his eyes, ¡°I know it sounds stupid, but I kinda¡¯ get your point now that I got shot. I should have listened to you. But how did you find me?¡±

    ¡°We snuck away and heard you groaning from in here. Samantha fixed you up with healing magic to stop you from bleeding to death. Your pelvis is another matter entirely. You¡¯re going to need surgery.¡±

    ¡°My Dad is going to flip his lid.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you should be more concerned about dying before he finds out.¡±

    ¡°Trust me ¨C it¡¯ll be a fate worse than death. I¡¯m never going to hear the end of it.¡±

    ¡°Good. You¡¯ve been trying to play the hero this whole time...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to be a hero, Max. I want to prove that I¡¯m capable of doing this.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem like much of a distinction to me.¡±

    ¡°Anyway ¨C I did overhear something while I was hiding in here, that¡¯s why they shot me. I saw something they didn¡¯t want getting out.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    Claude nodded, ¡°The guy directing those criminals came in here with Adrian¡¯s father, I think he¡¯s the one who¡¯s trying to get Felipe killed. That way he can marry someone into the family and take over their business.¡±

    ¡°The Rederro family? I wish I could say that I¡¯m surprised, but I suppose the apple doesn¡¯t fall too far from the tree.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t say anything about Adrian knowing about it, and even as he is, I don¡¯t think he¡¯d ask his father to kill Felipe just so he can marry Beatrice. He doesn¡¯t care one bit about her.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Max concurred, ¡°And that helps explain how they broke into the building and got around the security. Sir Roderro must have helped them get inside and told them where our group was going to be.¡±

    Max was always one to doubt Claude¡¯s assertions about what he believed ¨C but if he was making such a clear claim about something he witnessed, and he¡¯d been shot for witnessing it, that was a different story. Max never liked the Roderros, they had a terrible reputation for underhanded tricks. Even still, organising the murder of a teenager was beyond the pale. That was the sort of thing that saw a family¡¯s nature and reputation stained for a very, very long time. There was a good reason to keep it under wraps even if he didn¡¯t face legal consequences for it, which may happen given his pull in the city.

    Max was under no illusions about how unequal justice was in Walser. Things were improving, but it was no exaggeration to say that most nobles operated on a different set of rules to everyone else. They could get away with things that would see commoners locked up for decades. Claude¡¯s claims would be essential, as would the backing of the Booker and Escobarus families. With their weight behind him ¨C perhaps he¡¯d face a jail sentence after all.

    Claude was getting used to the pain. He was uncertain whether that was a good or bad thing. His breathing remained heavy, but the pace of each inhalation slowed considerably. He recalled the moment that he understood what happened and the panic he felt. All of Max¡¯s warnings about charging into things and putting himself in needless danger bounced back to him in the most humiliating manner possible. Max did care, he cared a lot ¨C but that didn¡¯t make the taste any less bitter.

    There were more gunshots from above.

    ¡°They¡¯re still fighting up there?¡± Max muttered.

    ¡°Maria, it¡¯s definitely Maria. Did you see the way that she threw that guy over the balcony? And she grabbed Felipe and got out of there so fast, it was like she knew what was going to happen.¡±

    ¡°That might be the case, but are you seriously proposing that she¡¯s enough to kill all of those people on her own? I don¡¯t care how many shooting trophies she¡¯s won ¨C that doesn¡¯t mean she¡¯s invincible.¡±

    ¡°I never said my theory was perfect, it might be a guard for all I know. But they did a pretty crappy job of keeping them out of the building in the first place. I wanted to catch a glimpse of what was going on, just so I could be sure.¡±

    ¡°And all you got in return was a shattered pelvis.¡±

    ¡°H-Hey, I found out who¡¯s responsible for starting all of this in the first place. That has to count for something!¡± Claude winced as he felt himself moving on instinct.

    ¡°You came in here to hide, not because you had a sudden flash of detective-like genius.¡±

    ¡°Putting yourself in the right place at the right time is also an essential detective skill.¡±

    Max studied the tortured expression on his face and the blood that had somehow stained above the waist too and reached a simple conclusion; ¡°I don¡¯t see what was right about this.¡±

    Before they could continue arguing back and forth over whether Claude did the right thing, they were interrupted by the sound of someone screaming.

    Max leapt to his feet and hurried to the door, ¡°Samantha!¡±

    But when he reached the barricade, he hesitated. Samantha had volunteered to keep watch ¨C which meant she was knowingly placing herself in danger for Claude¡¯s sake. It wouldn¡¯t do them any good for him to go running out and reveal Claude¡¯s position to anyone who wanted to come and finish the job. He stepped back and tried to ignore the ball of lead building in his chest. By the time he¡¯d have removed the desk, she¡¯d already be gone.

    ¡°Damn it!¡±

    His only solace was that the commotion was not punctuated with another gunshot.

    <hr>

    The unlucky fellow who ran across me next was almost completely liquidated as I blasted him in the chest with the first round from the shotgun. The recoil pulled back on my shoulder, but all of the strength training I¡¯d been doing over the past few months paid dividends and allowed me to stay on target for the follow-up on his friend. Blood flew and stained the floor red, both men fell backwards from the force of the impact.

    What a mess.

    I tossed the shotgun to the floor and drew my pistol again. I might have killed a few of them, but the odds were still poor. They had the measure of the building and were working as a more unified front than before. I could barely find the time to think through my next actions, being forced to rely on instinct and luck to get me through.

    The first recourse I could think of was getting out of there by breaking through their lines. Felipe was hidden via obscurity for the time being ¨C but my dying in this fight would worsen his chances of survival. It would be safer for both of us to move away and give myself some room to breathe. I could always come back and guard the door again if the need arose. It would be difficult to get through the door if Felipe had barricaded it as I asked, and the angles of the room meant he could hide out of sight even if they smashed the door through.

    The problem was that Eidos and his boss had brought every spare hand they could find to try and kill me. There were still two dozen of them left to worry about, and each kill didn¡¯t feel like it was getting me any closer to being free of their net. I didn¡¯t have the ammo or magical energy to get all of them.

    Eidos fired a bolt of his own lightning through the office, annihilating one of the desks near my position and sending dangerous wooden splinters through the air like a makeshift grenade. That reminded me that I needed to go back and grab my conductive spike too. I dove over the desk, knocking over the divider as I did so, and ran over to the pillar where I¡¯d embedded it into the plaster. It was still hot to the touch.

    ¡°Come out and play, Maria! I¡¯ve got more where that came from!¡±

    I tried to chart a clear path through the office before they really did corner me. There were gaps in the patrol pattern, but if I killed one of them they¡¯d readjust their positions. That was a variable that was out of my control, it was risky, but I didn¡¯t have many other options. It was even worse now that the fatigue from my magical accident was setting in. I wasn¡¯t going to complain too much about a get-out-of-jail-free card regardless.

    I broke out into a sprint and took my chances. There was a flurry of movement from the gunmen as they realised that I was trying to break their blockade. Several stray shots hit where I¡¯d just been as they tried to pin me down again. I kept my eyes focused on the goal, one of the staircases at the closest wall which was being guarded by two of them. Eidos placed them there to stop me from doing something like this, though it didn¡¯t mean much when they could get shot like everybody else.

    My legs burned and my centre of balance was struggling to keep me aloft. The speed I demonstrated to the class during the physical exam was no fluke. Speed and versatility were more important than ever because Maria¡¯s naturally small stature made building muscles difficult. When one area is left lacking, it¡¯s up to another to make up the slack. Fine-tuning my strategies was one thing ¨C but it was no substitute for experience using them in the real world.

    ¡°She¡¯s running for it, watch the bloody stairs!¡± Eidos roared, but he was a moment too late to save the lackeys posted there.

    I snapped my aim from one to the other, cutting them down with a pair of accurate shots to the chest that robbed them of the ability to stand up and aim at me. The barrage of fire from behind was withering, ripping plaster and stone to pieces as I ascended up the steps and out of sight. I dived behind the nearest pillar and took a second to catch my breath. If I moved too fast too quickly I¡¯d burn out my muscles and make things harder.

    But what struck me as odd was that there were no footsteps following me up, from that staircase or the other one. They were holding back from pursuing me. At first, I thought it was because they¡¯d decided to look for Felipe instead, but the voices coming from down there made me think twice. There was something going on that I wasn¡¯t privy to.

    I took my chances and moved back over to the stairs with my gun prepped in case one of them ignored orders and followed me. Tuning my ears into the discussion, I got the gist of what was happening.

    ¡°This girl ran away from the group. I found her hiding in one of the offices. What should we do with her?¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Not good. They¡¯d brought one of my classmates with them.

    Eidos was initially disinterested, ¡°What do you think? Take her back and throw her with the others. We don¡¯t have time to waste on this.¡±

    The leader stopped him, ¡°Hold on a second. I wouldn¡¯t be so hasty. You told me that this girl seems interested in keeping her friends safe, so why don¡¯t we take the opportunity and use her as leverage?¡±

    That was the last thing I wanted to hear. Hostage situations were extremely messy and difficult to get out of, and there was no guarantee that they¡¯d honour their own conditions for their release. As callous as it was of me to say, if things came to that I would choose to protect myself over them.

    At least, that was my line of thinking until I heard the familiar countryside twang of Samantha¡¯s accent.

    ¡°What the heck are you talking about? Let me go!¡±

    Her captor barked back, ¡°Fat chance, lass. Unless you think I¡¯m stupid enough to think that thing hit me around the head on accident.¡±

    Of all the people, why did it have to be the heroine of the story? Having her die here would probably doom the world to destruction or something equally idiotic. I resisted the urge to punch the nearest solid wall and started putting together a plan in my head. This wasn¡¯t personal like they thought ¨C I was legitimately fearful of what changes would occur to the timeline if Samantha died here. All those hints about her destiny as the world¡¯s saviour weren¡¯t there to mislead. That would imply a certain level of sophistication with the writing that was in direct contradiction to the target audience.

    ¡°Give her to me. I¡¯ll make sure that she knows what¡¯s going on.¡± Eidos took Samantha from the guard as she continued to struggle and object verbally to what they were planning.

    ¡°He must be on this floor. Search the rooms,¡± the leader commanded, ¡°Three or four will be enough. The rest of you make sure that she doesn¡¯t interfere.¡±

    Having disengaged from the fight, I¡¯d regained some control over the terms of our next engagement. They didn¡¯t know where I was or if I was listening to their conversation. Eidos would have to come to me first if he wanted to use Sam as a hostage. I took the spike from my holster and cut the palm of my off-hand with it, I then carefully started to apply the blood that leaked from the wound to various places along my route.

    Leaving breadcrumbs for them would do two things. It would allow them to follow me and trick themselves into thinking I was seriously wounded from their shots, and it would fill them with some false confidence. There was nothing deadlier than thinking that you had the situation under control when you didn¡¯t. A handprint here, a smear of blood there ¨C and the narrative I wanted to tell them was complete in seconds.

    One of the few records that I could find about the building showed me the exterior areas in more detail than anywhere else, including the roof. Roof access was something of a modern innovation for urban buildings in Walser, but the theatre was always designed to be adaptable. There was even a retractable cover that could block sunlight from coming in through the glass dome ceiling. The people working here needed the ability to get up and down into the rafters.

    That was where I would make my stand.

    I hurried up the stairs, and then again, reaching the top floor with a malicious plan in mind. The tallest building in the area was about to become the scene of a rooftop shootout. If that didn¡¯t make the police leap into action, nothing would. I forced my way through a metal doorway and ran out into the chilly midday air. The roof was huge and somewhat open, but with good solid cover that I could exploit. Giant wrought-iron structures were drilled into the ground to hold up the lighting rig and walkways inside.

    Ammunition was getting dangerously low. I took the time to transfer my remaining shots into one magazine of eight. It wasn¡¯t enough to kill all of them, not unless I could hit three of them with the same shot multiple times over. I was good but not that good. I also planted the spike in a spot where I thought Eidos would try to use his magic. The area was surrounded by more metal pieces that would make it significantly less precise than inside.

    The last piece of the puzzle was my own positioning for when they came out onto the roof, presuming they followed the convenient trail of blood I¡¯d left behind. There was an elevated walkway that allowed the engineering staff to maintain the glass windows that looked down into the atrium, but it didn¡¯t provide much cover for me to hide behind once the element of surprise was spent. I wanted a patch that let me strike first while also being easy to retreat from.

    I settled on a spot at the bottom of one of the walkway¡¯s access stairs. There was a large suspension mechanism to my left that would block bullets coming my way, and it gave me a clear view of the doorways on both sides of the roof. No matter where Eidos came from - I¡¯d see him.

    My patience was soon rewarded as one of his goons emerged from the small hut and took a brief look at what was awaiting him on the roof. As he didn¡¯t spot me during his preliminary scan, he felt safe enough to step through with two other men in tow. There was still no sign of Eidos behind them. I kept quiet and bided my time. I had to steal one of their guns to stand a chance. They fanned out and started searching in more detail, grumbling and complaining about the grunt work as they did.

    One of them made the grave mistake I was waiting for.

    He was using a rifle, but he also sported a pistol in an unsecured holster wrapped around his left leg. He wandered over in my direction and complained loudly, ¡°Why doesn¡¯t Eidos come up here and clear the roof himself if he wants to find this girl so bad? He just thinks we¡¯re a bunch of bloody meat shields!¡±

    His friend snorted, ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to get jumped. When you¡¯re the boss¡¯s right-hand man you can do the same thing if you want.¡±

    ¡°Pft. As if I¡¯d do something as cruel as-¡±

    Before he could finish I was behind him, snatching the pistol from his holster and blowing a hole through his skull at point-blank range. His head snapped forward and his statement ended abruptly with a spurt of blood decorating the concrete.

    ¡°Thanks for the gun, asshole.¡±

    I promptly put it to good use and shot his friend too. I was long past the point of feeling any sympathy for them. The fact that he considered himself kind at all was enough to make me scoff. He didn¡¯t have a problem with trying to kill a teenager, so he wasn¡¯t above using other people to protect himself. I took the rifle for myself and skittered away into cover like a ravenous raccoon.

    The last scout was left to cry for assistance, ¡°Damn it! She¡¯s out here, come help me out!¡±

    A stampede of reinforcements made themselves known by pouring through both exits, including Eidos himself, still holding a struggling Samantha in his arms. He was too strong for her to break free, not to mention the gun he was pointing at her head. I ducked behind a new hiding spot and waited to see what his play was.

    ¡°This is your last chance to come out here and make things easy on yourself Maria. Since my other offers didn¡¯t seem to do it for you, I decided to bring your little friend along with me to make my case.¡±

    ¡°Let me go, you cow-pie-eating bastard!¡±

    ¡°When I saw you at the mansion I understood right away. You¡¯ve got the eyes of a killer. I thought that you didn¡¯t care one bit about anybody else ¨C but it seems that I was mistaken. Why would you be putting your neck on the line if not for them? You don¡¯t get anything outta¡¯ this.¡±

    Samantha screamed as I ignored his demands and took an easy kill on another of his men using the rifle. Eidos sighed and shook his head, seemingly not afraid of me shooting at him while he held a hostage in his arms.

    ¡°Looks like you don¡¯t have a problem with doing this kind of thing in front of her, but I guess that¡¯s how it is when your life''s on the line. You know that she and all of your other friends are going to reject you when the time comes ¨C people like us, we don¡¯t get second chances. You should quit this hero gig while you¡¯re ahead, you won¡¯t get anything out of it.¡±

    I didn¡¯t think I was being a hero. Not in a traditional sense. If whatever sent me here needed or wanted a hero, they could have made a better choice than the likes of me. I only knew how to hurt people, how to kill them, and how to get away with it. That was the total summation of my existence. A cornered animal that lived for the sake of living.

    I was in too deep to take a different path now. Samantha was going to figure out what was going on with me. The only alternative was to give myself over and die like a dog. That would be no good for either of us. Her rejection was not something to concern myself with. She could complain about the methods after I saved her from Eidos, not before.

    Eidos understood that I wasn¡¯t going to give myself up that easily without turning the screws a tad tighter. Waving a gun in Samantha¡¯s face was not enough reason for me to turn myself in. He needed to guarantee me that she¡¯d be safe if I gave up first, but trust was in very short supply since we were trying to murder each other. He flinched as another of his men dropped dead right in front of him. He pulled Sam closer and tried to protect himself by using her as a shield.

    ¡°Hurry up and surround her! She¡¯s going to keep shooting if you don¡¯t!¡± he demanded. Having ceded the ground he gained by trying to extort me using Samantha, he fell back on what he knew best ¨C violence. In that sense, we were both of the same mind.

    A pair of shots rang out like the crack of a whip, and another two of them were dead. The rifle was empty, so I tossed it away and drew my backup pistol again. The momentum built into a violent crescendo as several of them, the full number that he brought onto the roof, descended on my position in an attempt to rush me.

    Two men lined themselves up perfectly for a single bullet to rip through both of them, though the man in the back was lucky to suffer a less serious injury thanks to the first slowing the bullet down. I rolled out of the way as a shotgun blast pinged off the metallic structure we were fighting around. He was already on top of me before I could climb up from the floor. I snapped my aim at his body and fired two shots to stop him from getting a chance to kill me.

    The rest hesitated as the bodies piled up in front of them. I dived out of cover and slid across the floor, striking one in the head before he could react. The pistol clicked as the last shot left the chamber, so I switched to my other leg and fired with the other. The assault was so overwhelming that all of them fell before me one after another. The last two took no effort at all.

    It was quick, brutal, and lasted a sum total of one minute.

    I threw the empty gun and grabbed another from one of the bodies. Eidos was the only one left.

    He was hiding on the other side of the domed window to conceal his position. I took a moment to catch my breath and wipe the blood on my cut hand onto one of their jackets so my fingers wouldn¡¯t slip. My breathing was laboured. I struggled around the outside of the dome and kept my aim high.

    ¡°Did you get her?¡± Eidos called out after a long silence. Their lack of response must have made his blood run cold.

    When I found him, he was halfway up the stairs on the walkway that ran around it, with Samantha still trying to wrestle herself free. That struggle came to an end when she witnessed my blood-soaked visage, armed to the teeth, for the first time.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that your friends won¡¯t be coming.¡±

    Samantha saw the raw madness that lay beneath my gaze. I was in a blood frenzy, a state of heightened awareness and suppressed emotions. All of my careful consideration and planning were pushed aside so that I could focus on what I did best. I must have looked a terrifying sight, all grimaces and eyes filled with fury. I could tell by the way that she tensed up and stopped moving.

    Eidos laughed nervously, ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer, lass. I¡¯ve got your friend here and I won¡¯t hesitate to kill ¡®er.¡±

    ¡°The moment you try, I¡¯ll just shoot you dead,¡± I noted, ¡°You¡¯re too craven to do something like that. Why don¡¯t we dispense with the pleasantries and get this over with?¡±

    He pressed the muzzle of his gun even closer to her skull, forcing her to feel the cold steel of its construction and be aware of how close she was to death. ¡°You don¡¯t care one bit about her, do you?¡±

    ¡°I thought I made that clear already.¡±

    ¡°So why don¡¯t you just risk it and shoot me anyway?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill her if I don¡¯t have to.¡±

    To Eidos, it was a distinction without a difference. If either of those positions would cause me to hesitate and for him to get the upper hand, he¡¯d exploit it until he no longer could. He was further put on edge by the sound of movement coming from below. My gambit worked. The police heard the gunshots and decided that they were waiting too long to get inside. It was only a matter of time before he and everyone else were apprehended or killed.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to throw everything away, lass. You¡¯re a silver-spoon-sucking noble at the core. All that comfort will go away if you shoot me now. This little girlie is going to see the whole bloody thing.¡±

    I refused to sway my aim away from his head.

    ¡°This hero gig isn¡¯t really you. I can tell that you¡¯re a killer, just like me. Do you think that these folks are going to give you a pat on the back? Praise you for the good deed? They¡¯re all too good for that, too comfortable to admit that this kind of violence is why they live in comfort. None of us are innocent.¡±

    He was right.

    I could never be a hero. A hero was someone with a righteous heart and a sense of justice. A hero was someone who could console people in their darkest hours. A hero was someone who was selfless and well-meaning in everything they did. I couldn¡¯t be those things for other people. I was a merciless killer. But as I stared up at him from below I came to a sudden realisation.

    They didn¡¯t need a hero ¨C they needed me.

    Everything clicked into place. My background, the role I took in this story, my reincarnated body, and the flurry of strange occurrences that started the moment I stepped foot onto the Royal campus. I was the right girl in the right place at the right time. Whoever sent me here didn¡¯t expect me to be a hero. A hero couldn¡¯t do what needed to be done, they couldn¡¯t do what I could.

    When approaching any situation ¨C one would need to bring the appropriate tool to achieve success.

    When the world is a complex place mired in endless facets and perspectives, when the lines between good and bad are blurred by their method and outcome; you can¡¯t hold on to your righteousness so easily. Your worst biases are exposed, and your darkest instincts take over. I was brought here to be myself with all of my previous memories intact. The ''Goddess'' hadn¡¯t ordered a prophesied saviour, she''d ordered a killer.

    And if that was what she wanted...

    Eidos was trying to run out the clock. He was exploring every possible angle to try and convince me to let him go or to drop my gun. He didn¡¯t realise that I knew he wasn¡¯t going to kill Samantha. Actually following through on the threat wouldn¡¯t get him anywhere, and it would allow me to shoot and kill him without any worry.

    I was one step ahead of him.

    Eidos pointed his other hand in my direction and fired another bolt of lightning. The electrical attack went awry from the moment it left the tip of his finger, getting caught on the surrounding railings and more notably, the spike I¡¯d planted nearby before he came out onto the roof. Samantha grabbed his other arm and wrenched it free, causing him to stumble down two of the steps as she kicked and struggled with him.

    He looked like a deer in the headlights as his attention turned to me.

    ¡°I¡¯m no hero.¡±

    I pulled the trigger three times, aiming for centre mass to keep Samantha out of the firing line. Each shot sent him spinning dramatically up against the railing until it was too much for him to handle. He cried out one last time and fell over the edge, crashing through one of the glass panels below and tumbling down into the parliamentary chamber with a sickening thud. Samantha winced and shied away, even after it was done with.

    I lowered my gun and sighed.

    ¡°Idiot.¡±

    Samantha peered at me through her fingers, ¡°Maria? Is that you?¡±

    ¡°Who else do you think it is?¡± I snarked.

    She cast a brief glance at the shattered window where Eidos fell, before resolving to preserve her innocence by not taking another look at his twisted body. She stumbled down the steps and met me at the bottom. I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what she thought of me now that I was standing in front of her, drenched from head to toe in both my own blood and everyone else¡¯s.

    ¡°You killed them,¡± she stated unevenly.

    There was no hiding the bodies I¡¯d left in my wake, ¡°Yes. I did.¡±

    ¡°You killed them.¡±

    She already said that.

    ¡°Any other illuminating insights to share with me?¡±

    She shook her head so quickly that she was liable to break her own neck.

    ¡°How did he end up catching you?¡± I asked.

    ¡°M-Max and I crept away from the group by knocking out one of the guards, we found Claude, but then he came back and caught me.¡±

    I escorted her towards the rooftop hut and allowed myself to cool down a tad. The immediate threat was dealt with. I re-engaged ¡®disinterested noble¡¯ mode and attempted to keep her from losing her mind over what she witnessed. It was very hard to do. I was covered in blood and still holding my gun. I slid it back into the holster and zipped up the side of my skirt, stopping her at the corner of the stairwell so that we could stay out of sight. The police were inside the building. I could hear them yelling orders and even firing shots at the criminals who chose to fight back.

    ¡°Is this why you told me to stay away from you?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I do appear to have a habit of attracting trouble. Do you mean to tell me that being honest about myself would have served me better than shooing you away at the academy?¡±

    ¡°I... hah. I can¡¯t believe it. Claude was right, the whole time!¡±

    Well, that was better for her than getting distressed about seeing the bodies.

 Chapter 47

    I never got the chance to track down Erwin Tees. He and the surviving gang members were quickly apprehended and forced to surrender to the police once they stormed the building. The sounds of gunfire coming from inside, and the prospect of parliament members and their families being harmed was enough reason for them to move fast.

    No matter how tough Erwin thought he was ¨C he didn¡¯t possess the numbers or the firepower to fight back against that kind of unified response. I walked out of the washroom after cleaning myself only to find that the entire thing was over and done with.

    It was probably for the best anyway. I was almost completely dry on my own ammunition and two steps away from falling over and passing out on the spot. The mystery spell I cast during the fight in the office wrecked me. I¡¯d be sleeping like a log once we got back to the dorms.

    Sam and I reunited with the rest of the hostages and pleaded ignorance about what was going on. I wasn¡¯t worried about what Samantha or Felipe said to the detectives. Both of them would come to understand that the credulity the officers felt would preclude them from telling the truth. If I was in their shoes I wouldn¡¯t believe it either. A small, pretty thing like me, shooting two dozen men dead with a gun smuggled into the building? Ridiculous, beyond consideration.

    Eidos and the rest of the bodies were covered and removed from the building, while witness statements were taken from the students and teachers who were involved. I caught a glimpse of Claude being carted away into a carriage so that he could be taken to the nearest hospital. Max and Samantha were left standing in the front courtyard as they rounded the corner and moved out of sight.

    ¡°I¡¯m never going to let him forget this one,¡± Max complained.

    Samantha frowned, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be sending him well wishes for his recovery?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s pretty durable. He¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Samantha found that statement entirely unconvincing. The boy looked like he was about to burst into tears while watching over him during the fighting. Not that there was anything wrong with being concerned about his best friend, it was cover-up at issue, not the crime.

    She stared at me from across the yard as I leaned against a wall and collected my thoughts. If only I¡¯d been granted the power to read minds upon my arrival. I always struggled to get a read on what she was thinking. I was fairly confident that her seeing my murderous side would be the end of her silly attempts to befriend me. That tended to be a big negative to most normal, well-adjusted people.

    My other big hope was for some peace and quiet. With Erwin arrested, most of his gang killed, and the scheme dismantled from the foundation, it was only a matter of time until the finger was pointed at the person writing the checks. Criminals weren¡¯t the trustworthy sort, and they¡¯d do anything to cut a few years from a potential jail sentence.

    He¡¯d crack like an egg with a little pressure.

    With the Escobarus and Booker families both wanting some justice in return for the offences committed ¨C it was also likely that their benefactor wouldn¡¯t be allowed to walk. If he¡¯d chosen a less significant target, perhaps he would, but not those two families. It was depressing that this would only be the case because of who they targeted and not the actual actions they took.

    I was being a hypocrite, but who wasn¡¯t willing to make exceptions for themselves when it was convenient? Now that the main issue was dealt with I could conclude that what I¡¯d done was technically a good deed. Though some would argue that the damage I caused and the body count accumulated was worse than what would have come about otherwise.

    There was no way to put a firm number on how many lives were potentially saved by Erwin¡¯s gang going down. It was simple. The sum total of bad people in the world dropped. That was my perspective. There was no need to run myself into a frenzy getting caught up in questions about morality or the collective good.

    Hopefully, whatever mad God brought me here agreed. I was not expecting to live a leisurely life in the first place, but getting to experience it and then having it disrupted with such pitched violence reminded me of how nice it was to go about my days normally. They were hitting me with a stick after dangling the carrot. Wouldn¡¯t it be lovely to enjoy a mostly normal life with all this newfound wealth?

    I watched the media and police circus as they cleaned up the site and got everyone¡¯s statements about the events of the day. It looked as if our first school trip was to end in cancellation. Most of the students were probably over the moon about escaping from the building without having to endure any more dry legislative debate.

    Samantha was waiting for a gap in the crowds to come and speak with me. She willingly took that chance and slipped between them as the number of people started to drop and the commotion died down. She walked straight up to me, opened her mouth, and then closed it again without making a sound.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked, ¡°Something to share?¡±

    Samantha couldn¡¯t say exactly what she wanted to say with so many open ears around. She worded her statements carefully to avoid incurring my wrath.

    ¡°Do you do this often?¡±

    I snorted, ¡°Often? I don¡¯t believe that ¡®often¡¯ is an appropriate description. This incident and the one at the party are the only times this has happened to me.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s brow furrowed, ¡°So why were you so confident with... fighting them?¡±

    I replied under my breath, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you the truth. Let¡¯s split it halfway and say that I learned it all at those shooting competitions. Happy?¡±

    She shook her head, ¡°Not really, no.¡±

    ¡°The real answer will only arouse more questions, questions that I don¡¯t feel like answering. You saw it with your own eyes, what I¡¯m capable of, and the kind of dangers that seem to accumulate around me without my input. Having seen all of that, do you still want to be my friend? You were so confident when you declared so a few weeks ago. I¡¯m a bad person.¡±

    Samantha hesitated to restate her intentions, but I was surprised to hear her response.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that you¡¯re a bad person. After all, you protected Felipe. Would a bad person do all of that for someone else? I don¡¯t think they would.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°You have a lot to learn, Samantha. Bad people can be motivated to do good things if they think that there¡¯s something in it for them. It¡¯d be easier for all of us if you respect my original answer and leave me alone.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that you believe that horse manure either,¡± Samantha retaliated, ¡°There isn¡¯t a person on this planet who¡¯d like to be alone for their entire life.  Are you going to go through your time at the academy without ever making a real friend? Don¡¯t tell me that you don¡¯t enjoy spending time with other people. You¡¯re a completely different person when Talia is around.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°The only person you¡¯re hurting with those lies is yourself. I guess it doesn¡¯t matter so much if you¡¯re just unwilling to recognise it.¡±

    I closed my eyes and tried to reset the conversation to something more familiar. Samantha was strong-willed, like most visual novel protagonists, but this was a display of resilience and bravery that exceeded my expectations. She was standing up to me in a small way. It was more than most were willing to try in my presence; everyone else was too interested in sucking up to me or talking about me like I was some kind of monster.

    ¡°When I said that I wanted to be your friend ¨C I accepted that there would be sides to you that you didn¡¯t want anyone else to see. This may be more extreme than I was thinking, but that isn¡¯t going to stop me. I¡¯ll take on whatever risks come with it!¡±

    Those earnest, puppy-dog eyes she was using were pure evil. Samantha was a character archetype that I liked. I wouldn¡¯t play so many similar games if I didn¡¯t. There was something appealing to me about a straightforward and noble character, in the literal sense of the word, who always tried to do the right thing. A part of me wanted to be like them, but I was a creature of habit. It would take more than good intentions for a monster like me to change.

    ¡°I doubt that you¡¯re ready to endure events like this over and over again, but if that¡¯s the way you want to play it...¡±

    Samantha was stubborn, ¡°I¡¯m sure that this was just a one-off! Now that the gang¡¯s leader is arrested, Felipe won¡¯t be in danger anymore.¡±

    ¡°Samantha ¨C as much as I wish to share in your optimism, the noble class is nothing if not malicious. There¡¯ll come a time where violent action like this arises once again, it¡¯s natural given the amount of money and power they play with.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not changing my mind. Prepare to be befriended.¡±

    I glared, but even that well-tested method was ineffective. How was it that finding out I was a merciless killer only hardened her resolve? She was the one girl I was trying to keep it a secret from!

    ¡°You know, to be friends both parties must agree to regard each other as such. I have not yet made any affirmative statements based on your proposal.¡±

    ¡°Talia says that you do the same thing with her, but everyone else thinks that she¡¯s your only friend anyway. If you spend time with them and have fun with them, isn¡¯t that what a friend really is?¡±

    There was no need to tell me. I¡¯d realised that after the attack at the party. I couldn¡¯t assume that my own internal logic and designations held any sway over the course of events that seemed designed to force me into awkward situations. I was being hoisted by my own petard. Getting so close to Talia showed Samantha that it was possible to break through my frosty outer layer.

    ¡°And if I start avoiding you?¡±

    Samantha smirked, ¡°I¡¯ve been keeping a close eye on you. I already know all of your hiding spots and escape routes!¡±

    This argument was going nowhere fast, and I was still trying to cool down after all of the drama of our school trip. This could wait for another time. I waved her off and responded simply, ¡°I¡¯ll take that under consideration.¡±

    I walked away to signal the end of our discussion.

    With statements taken and the mess cleaned up, it seemed as if I¡¯d gotten away with murder again. I hadn¡¯t been pulled aside by the police thanks to Felipe blabbing about my involvement, and Samantha was her usual peppy self towards me. I couldn¡¯t judge whether she was being sincere or not. Samantha wasn¡¯t the sort to put on a false impression with other people, but I could tell that my secret identity was a cause for concern.

    There were more than a few vultures at the gates of the building trying to get a look at what was going on. An attack on the parliament building was going to be big news, and would also lead to the institution of new security policies to prevent anything similar from happening again. People assumed the best until glaring weaknesses were exposed like this ¨C and now every revolutionary the country over had an example to follow and the motivation to try. Whoever paid for the hit had unwillingly thrown a lit match into the powder keg.

    Though unless they came for me with a guillotine, it wasn¡¯t my problem.

    I¡¯d keep my ear to the ground and hope that the culprit was caught soon so I could relax a little. As for the academy, I had no idea what the staff would do. They were likely of the same mind as me, hoping that the culprit being caught would be enough justification to keep the campus open. There was going to be a lot of trouble still, with questions asked and answers demanded.

    I slipped away from the commotion and headed off to reunite with the class.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    <hr>

    ¡°Roderro Arrested on Conspiracy Charges! Gang of Killers Tells All.¡±

    There was no missing the headlines plastered across the front page of the newspapers in the days after the attack. Amazingly, Claude bumbled his way into witnessing Adrian¡¯s Father and Erwin Tees discussing their plan to find and kill Felipe after hiding in one of the offices. Perhaps his detective intuition was no joke after all. After pointing the finger, and some pressure from the Escobarus family, he was apprehended and questioned. Erwin quickly sold him out to try and score a reduced prison sentence, as did the man who was captured at the Booker¡¯s party.

    The evidence was clear and overwhelming. There were no excuses that he could air to get out of this one. Financial records and testimony from his own staff and accountants sealed his fate. He confessed to the offence soon after and was due to be sentenced a month from now. To say that this was the biggest story in the past decade would be an understatement. It sent shockwaves through the upper classes in a way that few other scandals could hope to boast of.

    Adrian was obviously absent from the academy to handle the family affairs. It was a coin toss as to whether he¡¯d return at all. Felipe and Beatrice wanted to see nothing of him, but he technically didn¡¯t do anything wrong. His Father claimed that the entire scheme was his idea and that Adrian didn¡¯t know a thing.

    Regardless of his intentions, Adrian was now the head of the Roderro family for the foreseeable future. It was a huge amount of responsibility for one young man to shoulder. Adrian did not strike me as the type to flourish under those circumstances. Impatient, impulsive, and with little time for other people.

    Being the head of a family was tough. I¡¯d seen first-hand how much time and effort my Father dedicated to keeping everything in line. If not bookkeeping and arranging events, it was living up to the standards that his peers expected from him. They wouldn¡¯t hesitate to tear anyone down if they didn¡¯t conform to exactly what was established.

    Classes were suspended for a while. A week passed before the faculty hashed out the details with the parents, who came around to sending the students back now that the people behind the assassination scheme were locked up. It was lucky for the new Headmaster because Felipe¡¯s presence on the trip was almost blamed for the whole thing happening in the first place.

    The biggest surprise arrived minutes before the first lesson back was due to begin. Claude wheeled his way into the classroom in a wheelchair with a beaming smile on his face. It was almost as if he¡¯d never had that near-death experience in the first place. There was a disturbance as the other students hurried over to speak with him and ask how he earned such a grievous injury. He finally got the fifteen minutes of fame that he was looking for, he only needed to jump in front of a bullet to get it.

    I winced as I overheard one of them ask, ¡°Did it hurt?¡±

    Getting shot wasn¡¯t nice, of course it hurt!

    Claude smiled and practised the humility he was so well known for, ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad really. I was just worried for Felipe once I overheard what they were talking about.¡±

    Max¡¯s eyes rolled so far back that they almost fell out of his sockets. He put a firm end to Claude¡¯s boasting with a friendly clip around one of his ears, ¡°Don¡¯t go exaggerating the bloody story for this lot. They¡¯re good enough at doing that without your help.¡±

    The now-humbled Claude nodded sheepishly, ¡°Ah. Sorry. The Doctors said that I should be able to walk again in a few months, so I decided to come back to the academy and get on with it instead of waiting.¡± Aside from the wheelchair, there was also a bulging area around his midsection where the wound was packed with gauze and tape.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy that you didn¡¯t bleed to death,¡± Max exclaimed.

    Claude thought nothing of it, ¡°Heh. But you know, girls like scars ¨C so I¡¯m happy to share the story if anyone¡¯s willing to listen.¡±

    ¡°Oh Goddess, not again. You told me the exact same story five times when I visited you in the hospital, aren¡¯t you tired of it yet?¡±

    ¡°What? It¡¯s an exciting story!¡± Claude protested.

    Samantha joined the chorus, ¡°Most people would find nearly dying a rather traumatic experience, but I¡¯ve long since learned to accept that Claude doesn¡¯t seem to care about those sorts of things.¡±

    Claude spoke under his breath, ¡°Is Adrian still here?¡±

    ¡°No, and the teachers told us not to speak about it or spread any rumours until he returns.¡±

    Fat chance of that happening.  Claude and Samantha looked in my direction with differing expressions. Claude was still suspicious of me, but Samantha knew everything. She hadn¡¯t told him, which was the second surprise of the day aside from his arrival at the classroom. For how long was she willing to lie to one of her close friends? When would her better nature win out and force her to spill the beans? I never assumed trust from others. Samantha could say one thing to me and turn around to blab to somebody else.

    Claude¡¯s persistence was my biggest enemy. As I had the ability to magnetically attract trouble, he boasted the ability to place himself in the wrong places at the right times. It was incredible how he turned out to be the lynchpin by which the entire case against Adrian¡¯s father ultimately hinged. As a victim of the crimes committed, he could tell the full story to the police and have a level of credibility he wouldn¡¯t otherwise enjoy. By pointing them in the right direction he caused the entire house of cards to crumble.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not like I¡¯m holding it against him. I¡¯d never be as foolish as to accuse someone of being involved without evidence.¡±

    Max and Claude had made up while I wasn¡¯t looking, but even then, he was laying it on thick with that statement. Samantha resisted the urge to point out that he¡¯d been accusing me of various criminal offences for some time. Technically he was correct, but Samantha revealed to me that he believed I was doing something untoward with Felipe and Beatrice.

    ¡°Alright everyone, please save the chatter for later!¡± the teacher ordered. Everyone scuttled away to their seats and pulled out their implements for another lecture. Claude was forced to sit at the front, near a small table that had been brought into the chamber for his use.

    ¡°I understand that everyone is very excited at the moment, but we need to hurry on with our lessons now that the disruption has ended. We have a lot to catch up on.¡±

    It was going to take some time for the kids to adjust back to being in lessons again. I did not envy the position of the teachers and lecturers who now contended with a wave of gossip and conflict formed by the events at the school trip. There were lots of restless legs and hushed whispers.

    When the lesson was over, and most of the information dispensed discarded to the carless winds, Samantha made a point to follow me along my usual route through the campus until we reached the sitting area which I used to hide away from the popular girls and their ceaseless chatter. I sat down on one of the benches and took a moment to admire the carefully cultivated greenery that surrounded me. It seemed that I was one of the only students who saw how much effort was put into this place. Samantha¡¯s head peered around one of the hedgerows.

    ¡°Something to say?¡±

    She¡¯d been avoiding me since our last discussion outside of the theatre. She clearly saw fit to dash my hopes of my true nature scaring her away. She approached and sat next to me.

    ¡°I wanted to ask you to reconsider my offer.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re as persistent as Claude.¡±

    She shook her head frantically, ¡°No, no. I¡¯m nothing like Claude! Don¡¯t you dare accuse me of something like that!¡± I couldn¡¯t stop myself from laughing in the distinct manner by which I had become known. Samantha turned bright red because of my mockery.

    ¡°Apologies. Your reaction was... interesting.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps I¡¯m being a little mean to Claude by saying that, but he has a way of riling people up.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re worried about riling me up ¨C why do you persist in trying to associate with me? Surely you¡¯d be better served dedicating your time to something else.¡±

    ¡°Is it weird if I say that I find you exciting?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I responded bluntly, ¡°I¡¯m actually very dull.¡±

    ¡°Even with the gunfighting and heroics?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no hero, and the occasions where I¡¯m forced to use violence are not ones to be anticipated. A wrong move could cost me or someone else their life. In truth, I¡¯m terrified of them.¡±

    The foolhardy didn¡¯t last long in this business.

    Samantha twiddled her thumbs, ¡°When I saw you all covered in blood back then, I was worried that you¡¯d been hurt. I was expecting to see some terrible injuries on you, just like Claude.¡±

    ¡°I was just as surprised as you. Someone caught me off-guard and shot at me, but the bullet disappeared into nothing. I must have used some kind of magic to protect myself but I have no earthly idea of what it may have been.¡±

    Samantha stroked her chin, ¡°Something disappearing? If you¡¯re certain that it didn¡¯t miss you, then perhaps you use Nihilistic magic to destroy it in mid-air?¡±

    Nihilistic magic was, as the name suggested, a school of thought and practice that allowed one to destroy the bonds between molecules at the snap of a finger. It was a narrow subset of what was considered black magic by most mages. Affinity for it was extremely rare; but if Maria was meant to stand as an opposite to Samantha, who was naturally aligned with light magic, then it begged to reason that I was destined to learn a thing or two about it.

    ¡°Could I really have used nihilist magic at a moment like that? From what I¡¯ve read, it takes years of dedicated training to make use of it.¡±

    ¡°They say that your affinity for magic can guide your hand in times of crisis or stress. Almost being killed seems to qualify in my eyes.¡±

    ¡°A near-death experience.¡±

    ¡°Right! I did something similar when we found Claude. I used what I¡¯d read about light magic to stop him from bleeding. I don¡¯t think I would have been able to do it if that wasn¡¯t true. The only thing I could do was focus on healing him ¨C and then it happened right in front of me!¡±

    ¡°Impressive, but in my eyes, it only means that we¡¯re polar opposites. They do say that an affinity is closely tied with a person¡¯s sense of self.¡±

    Samantha took a more optimistic view, ¡°Or, it could mean that we¡¯re like two sides of a coin! Opposites attract!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re only endangering yourself by getting close to me. What if you have to deal with incidents like the theatre shooting again and again?¡±

    ¡°Those happened before we became friends anyway,¡± Samantha responded. I graciously ignored the way that she spoke about our estrangement in the past tense.

    ¡°And you¡¯re not scared of being around me, knowing what you do?¡±

    Samantha¡¯s trepidation was a clear signal to me that she couldn¡¯t accept those risks without conditions attached. Could she trust me? That was the question she asked herself. Would there come a time when she''d become the target of my aggression? That was something that no normal human was willing to deal with.

    She tested her resolve and nodded, ¡°I know you. A bad person wouldn¡¯t do so much to protect their friends. Felipe and Beatrice are safe because of you.¡±

    My attempts to freak her out with a cool gaze were not working. My only option was to chase her away via exposure. She¡¯d get bored of hanging around me in time, and if she was fully willing to accept the risks that came with it then I couldn¡¯t see a reason to refuse.

    ¡°Do as you please, then. But don¡¯t complain when things don¡¯t work out.¡±

    Samantha cheered as she¡¯d just won a million dollars, leaping off of the bench and holding her arms up in the air in a victorious fashion.

    ¡°Woohoo, I did it!¡±

    ¡°You sure did...¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get it ¨C this is a big moment. There isn¡¯t a single girl in this academy who doesn¡¯t want to be your friend, and now I get to be a member of that exclusive club!¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t come with any benefits.¡±

    I stood up and met her eye to chest, because the damn girl was one-half plus my height.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine by me! But maybe you could show me a thing or two about how you do all of that amazing stuff!¡±

    Was this girl right in the head?

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to do that.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± she whined. I was already heading towards the next lesson, forcing her to chase after me.

    ¡°Because hopefully, you¡¯ll never need to use any of those ¡®skills,¡¯ have you ever heard of dramatic irony?¡±

    Samantha followed me like a lost puppy before coming out with the single-most boundary-violating statement she could.

    ¡°You have really nice legs.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    Samantha blushed, ¡°Ah. It¡¯s just that¡­ when I saw you fighting on the roof, you¡¯d unzipped your skirt and I could see them. I didn¡¯t look on purpose! I promise.¡±

    I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was a little too focused on not dying to worry about whether my underwear was visible.

    ¡°You¡¯re unbelievable.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Adrian, I need you to do something for me, as the man of the family.¡±

    Adrian Roderro wanted to believe earnestly that the stories about his Father were not true. They were on the front pages of every major newspaper and spoken about by the other nobles as if it were settled fact. While he may have thought that Adrian would be spared any of the backlash based on his ignorance of the scheme, the truth was much different. Adrian was left holding the shattered pieces of his family¡¯s already sketchy reputation.

    Their last face-to-face meeting at the jailhouse affirmed his worst fears. He¡¯d done all of it, from the scheming to the payments to allowing them into the parliament building to try and murder Felipe. So deep was his obsession with finding a good wife for him that he never once stopped to think about the immorality of his actions. Adrian almost punched him in the nose when he sat down in that chair. Again, and again, his father took extreme action on his behalf ¨C even when he expressly didn¡¯t want it.

    ¡°As the head of the Roderro family, there¡¯s an important heirloom that you must recover from my office. Once you find it, I want you to follow my instructions and activate it.¡±

    He stepped through the door and into his now abandoned office. It was empty without him; every piece was left in the same place as it was when he was arrested. The investigation found all of the evidence it needed without tearing it asunder, not that he was stupid enough to keep incriminating documents in such an obvious place. He was only stupid enough to write down the budget for his gang of assassins for someone to find in a less obvious hiding place.

    ¡°Take the watch from the lockbox using this key, and press the button on the top twice in a location of your choosing. You can press the second switch on the side to go there whenever you please.¡±

    Adrian heard of this timepiece before. It was the pride and joy of the family¡¯s collection and a connective tether to their past as one of the biggest families of mages in the nation. It was a profoundly rare, valuable and powerful magical item that had to be charged with magical energy for decades to be usable. This was not a mere teleportation charm. It contained the means to cast one of the most difficult and secretive spells known to mankind. Not only did it store the location as a mana marker to be attracted to later, but it also stored the time of use.

    It was a one-way ticket into the past.

    Adrian studied the golden watch with a sceptical eye. It looked valuable, but the prospect of travelling back in time was too abstract for him to imagine. What would he even use such an ability for? As far as he knew, it was reserved almost exclusively by the previous house leaders to insure themselves against dangerous situations.

    Engraved into the metal was a cryptic statement; ¡°All that is, will be. All that will be, is.¡±

    Adrian closed his eyes and sat down in the chair that his Father used. It was too late to use it to deter him from launching his plan now. He was the only one with an active mana marker in place, only he could use that marker to go into the past. Why did he not use it when he had the chance? He even found the time to lock it in the box before he was arrested. Clearly, he must have had a good reason. Perhaps he believed that the single charge the watch came with was better used on his son.

    Such consideration was rare from a man like him.

    Adrian slipped the watch into his pocket and stared out across the room which was now his sole property. It wasn¡¯t to his taste, but he expected his Father to be out of prison in due time. No, he¡¯d have to make an office space of his own instead, and then deal with the myriad problems that now faced the family.

    Adrian spoke to himself, ¡°Compared to this, the academy doesn¡¯t seem so bad.¡±

    The silence he received in response was deafening.

 Chapter 48

    The house of Walser was in an uproar.

    Not since the Civil War had there been such a brazen attack on the seat of government. Even if it was at the hands of a conservative member for the sake of a political marriage, it exposed deep, systemic flaws in the approach that the house was taking to stamping out dissent and creating stability.

    At the very first session after the building was repaired, there was a near-unanimous vote to pass a new security bill, significantly increasing the presence of guards and security officers for the associated members. Nobody noticed the irony in that the arrested conspirator was one of its biggest champions.

    But as they say, a broken clock is right twice a day.

    There was a collective agreement from both wings of the house that things were in a dangerous state. The attack provided ample evidence and reason to dissident groups, that they too could attack the government without facing swift retaliation. Roderro didn¡¯t have a friend left ¨C his miscalculation could have potentially caused the collapse of the republic. Braying Monarchists and extreme Republicans were chomping at the bit to let some blood, both sides convinced that the parliamentary members were nothing more than half-baked sell-outs.

    The gavel came down thrice, ¡°Order, order! Can we please have order in the house? We have many matters to speak on. I¡¯d like to call the committee to attention.¡± The debate slowed to a stop, replaced with whispers and huddled discussions that allowed the speaker to have his say.

    ¡°Our first motion is on the expulsion of Cathdra Roderro, forwarded to me by the clerk of the house.¡±

    The MPs shuffled through the aisles and found their seats as the first vote was called.

    ¡°Official proceedings to remove Cathdra Roderro from the house, to vacate his seat, and hold an election within the next thirty days has been introduced under statute thirty-one, for the crimes of which he is accused, and for damaging the confidence of the house. All in favour, please say aye.¡±

    It was unanimous from those who supported the motion, ¡°Aye!¡±

    ¡°And are there any objections?¡±

    Those who abstained from his party kept their silence.

    The gavel snapped again, ¡°The motion is passed without division. Cathdra Roderro is hereby expelled from the house. He will forfeit his wage and pension, and will be barred from entering the building lest the ban be upturned at this house¡¯s behest.¡±

    The Speaker handed the order paper back down to one of the clerks so that it could be filed away and placed into the records. Cathdra¡¯s conduct was indefensible. It was the kind of scandal that could damage the popularity of his entire parliamentary wing, never mind his family alone. Even the distant members of his family tree refused to stand up and speak on his behalf, what was there to say or debate?

    With the vote designated for the block over, the members dispersed, some choosing to leave the chamber and head for the private offices that they used to discuss their next moves. This was where the glad-handing and influence currying occurred. For some ¨C it was the only reason they attended the votes in the first place. Today, there was a special meeting being held between several leaders from within the house.

    The meeting room was thick with smoke as several of the men in attendance puffed happily at a set of cigars placed in the middle of the table. Even with the windows open it was enough to make one¡¯s eyes water.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to thank you for bringing things to a prompt conclusion,¡± Fernwell Clark said to the speaker, Darian Fulmar. Darian was formerly a member of the Republican party but renounced his affiliation when he was elected to the position. He was seen as a firm and impartial hand by the others, the perfect man to wrangle the often-unruly politicians into some form of order.

    ¡°I am just performing my duty. I¡¯m surprised that it passed without division.¡±

    Clark nodded, ¡°It was a terrible look for the party, but that wasn¡¯t going to stop rabble-rousers from forcing it to a formal vote. I suppose there are some things that even they aren¡¯t willing to forgive. It¡¯s a shame that allowing criminals into the house was the breaking point, and not anything before that.¡±

    It was very rare indeed to see the leaders of every major party in the same room together. The Republicans and Monarchists were natural enemies, and they seldom found common ground on anything at all. Only the smaller parties chose to skip it, believing that taking a stand against the establishment would boost their fortunes in the next election.

    Clark was not magnanimous about Roderro¡¯s downfall, ¡°I told the chief whip that he was nothing but trouble. The Roderros have a bad smell about them, always scheming behind the scenes and going too far. It¡¯s not the first time he¡¯s dropped us into hot water.¡±

    His Republican colleague snapped his fingers, ¡°Okay ¨C there¡¯s no need to drag his name through the mud now, Clark. What¡¯s done is done.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean to defend him now, Franzheim? The people back at the headquarters are already planning a publicity push to wash the stink off of us.¡±

    ¡°But there¡¯s a difference between saying something to the public and airing it in the drawing room. We already know what¡¯s at stake. You might find those words turned against you one day. This incident threatens the legitimacy of the entire house, and the parties who sit in it.¡±

    The Republican¡¯s squabble was silenced as another man burst through the door, ¡°The King is here!¡± The scattered pockets of discussion were snuffed out like candles in the wind with the loud proclamation of his arrival.

    King Thersyn Van Walser was a commanding presence. Despite the removal of much of his political power, he demanded loyalty and awe from many of the nation¡¯s citizens. He had not been defanged by the compromise ¨C he relished the chance to engage with a new political system. He was a tall man with dark hair and cold eyes. His imperious manner was meant to serve as a beacon of stability and strength to the people, and for that purpose, he continued to dress in a manner some would call antiquated. A large purple sash, the Van Walser¡¯s royal colours, was draped over one shoulder of his decorative military uniform and gown.

    The Monarchist-conservative men sitting at the table stood at attention and bowed their heads respectfully. The Republicans would treat him with some respect, but they would never bow to him in the same way.

    ¡°I apologise for coming here on such short notice, gentlemen. I have made a selfish request of you by asking permission to enter this house.¡±

    Darian Fulmar waved it away, ¡°Permission is given freely, sire. This is an important matter that we must address, as it pertains to the safety of all citizens within Walser.¡±

    The King was solemn, ¡°Aye. I have heard much of the attack here, and some of the conclusions that they reach worry me greatly. There are rumblings that it is a bad omen, a signal of the Black Lady¡¯s revival.¡± A terse silence settled over the room as cigars were extinguished and throats cleared.

    Clark was slow to pour cold water on the idea, ¡°The Black Lady? Surely you do not believe in such rampant superstition? To assert that but a single woman could transcend the eras and return from death, never mind set in motion such dramatic events...¡±

    ¡°I never stated my belief in it,¡± The King replied, ¡°Her existence is a matter of historical record ¨C but I myself do not foresee some kind of return on the horizon. People are externalising the fear they feel about the direction of this grand ship.¡±

    ¡°And that means that opportunists will be waiting in the wings to start the fighting again.¡±

    The King was clear, ¡°I have no interest in fighting old battles. The matter is supposed to be settled, for that purpose did we sign the treaty.¡±

    Darian pinched his nose, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that reiterating that position will have no effect, Sir Clark. The King has made his will very clear to the public multiple times before, yet they persist in their rebellious activity.¡±

    Clark was incandescent, ¡°Bah! For what purpose do they take their seats in parliament then? For a group who claims to revile the new legislature so much, they don¡¯t seem to mind enjoying the scenery while they¡¯re here. I have half a mind to give them a clip around the ear!¡±

    The King folded his hands into his lap and focused his gaze on the flag that hung from the chamber¡¯s roof. Clark¡¯s boastful violence was an inappropriate form of speech in front of a member of the royal family, not that he was a man to care about station. The rest of the Republican members were not impressed. The Monarchists had heard that kind of language a thousand times before.

    ¡°The time for guillotines and show trials is over,¡± Darian declared, ¡°That was the premise by which we all agreed to form this greatest of legislatures. A machine for compromise in a rapidly changing world. I firmly believe that it has been a success. The citizens feel more represented, like their voices and votes have weight. Meanwhile, the Van Walser house remains the pride of many.¡±

    A chorus of ¡®aye¡¯s¡¯ responded in kind.

    The King nodded, ¡°I concur. I could not abide seeing our people destroy each other for the sake of enshrining our family. We may have been chosen by the Goddess to lead, but we also owe our position to those whom we command.¡±

    He knew all too well that their passion for the Van Walser house was not attached to any one member. The shifting tides of monarchist opinion were well and truly fickle. A pretender to the throne came and went like the changing of the seasons, so long as they posited a belief in an exceptional, nostalgia-tinged Walser that they all dreamt of. The figurehead did not matter to them. This was about ideology. It was a harsh lesson to learn, to see his words fall on deaf ears and for the violence to continue unabated.

    They were not doing this in his name, nor did they do it for his sake.

    <hr>

    ¡°So, what do you like to do in your free time?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    I peered over the edge of my book to Samantha, who was playing with a lock of her hair in the seat across from me.

    ¡°What I like to do?¡±

    ¡°Yeah ¨C hobbies, favourite subjects. I know you don¡¯t spend much time with friends, so I was curious.¡±

    I stared at her and tried to formulate an answer that didn¡¯t make me sound like even more of a psychopath. Unfortunately, most of my time before my revelation at the theatre was spent in a state of abject paranoia. Even though I was now taking a more relaxed stance on things, that didn¡¯t mean I was flush with hobbies, friends and stories to tell. Samantha¡¯s smile dropped as she inferred my real answer through the silence.

    ¡°Oh, so you don¡¯t really do any of that stuff.¡±

    ¡°Unless you count shooting, no, and I¡¯ve even stopped doing that since I got what I wanted out of it.¡±

    ¡°A cabinet full of trophies?¡±

    ¡°No. I was stealing bullets the whole time.¡±

    ¡°You were stealing them? I thought you were from a rich family.¡±

    I hushed my voice to keep it from leaking to outside ears, ¡°I am, but what do you think my Father would say if I asked him for so much ammunition? I didn¡¯t want to make him suspicious.¡±

    Samantha gave me a pitying look, complete with watering eyes and a quivering bottom lip, ¡°And that¡¯s why you were so resistant to having friends because you didn¡¯t know the joy that came with connecting with other people.¡±

    I grimaced, ¡°I was more worried about them being killed if I¡¯m being perfectly honest. I¡¯m more than capable of understanding the appeal of knowing other people, but if you keep speaking like that I¡¯m going to retract my conditional offer of friendship post-haste.¡±

    She wiped that sympathy from her features really quickly after that.

    ¡°And aside from that ¨C I find most of the people at the academy extremely tedious. I have little time or interest in engaging with them when their singular focus is on using me as a way to enhance their reputation.¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°Ah. I understand. I heard what they were talking about before the lessons started, and I realised that you wouldn¡¯t be interested in things like that. Like how their horses are doing, or who¡¯s going out with who.¡±

    I scoffed, ¡°Oh, I am certain that those relationships will last for a very long time indeed.¡±

    ¡°Will they?¡±

    ¡°No, that was sarcasm.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard you be sarcastic before.¡±

    ¡°There are a lot of things I don¡¯t do around other people. What do you do with your free time, since you¡¯re so invested in drilling me for answers?¡±

    Samantha hummed, ¡°Back home, I liked looking after our animals. I was hoping that some of those noble girls and I could find some common ground over it ¨C but they all turned their noses up at me because we don¡¯t use them for dressage.¡±

    ¡°Heavens forbid that a horse be used for work.¡±

    ¡°I know! I couldn¡¯t believe what I was hearing. So what if they pull some of our rigs around? We probably treat those boys better than they do, and we don¡¯t have any fancy-pants heated stables either! It¡¯s like they don¡¯t know where all the food they eat comes from.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t,¡± I observed, ¡°It¡¯s all news to them.¡±

    When you combined the stupidity of a child with the confident ignorance of a noble, you were bound to find those who lacked concrete knowledge on anything you could think of. To them, learning something new was not a valuable activity, nor was the information worthy of occupying any space within the brain. After all, they¡¯d never find themselves in a position where they needed to know how farming worked, or any other common job that formed the bedrock of modern society. They didn¡¯t think that the work was easy, they thought it was utterly beneath them and worthy of contempt.

    Samantha sighed and rested atop her palms, ¡°I still don¡¯t know why you¡¯re so well-studied, considering that the other girls our age don¡¯t seem to know much at all.¡±

    ¡°Is that really the part that strikes you as the most unusual? Not the way that I mercilessly killed two dozen people?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say it was mercilessly,¡± she argued, ¡°But aside from that ¨C I¡¯m curious as to how you have such a broad range of knowledge.¡±

    ¡°I like to read,¡± I responded simply.

    Samantha didn¡¯t buy it, ¡°You¡¯re doing that thing you do when you lie.¡±

    ¡°What thing?¡±

    Samantha held up her hand and made a strange motion with her fingers, ¡°You always tense the tips of your fingers like this. I noticed it a few weeks ago, and since then I can¡¯t ignore when you tell one of those lies by omission.¡±

    ¡°What good is the truth if you aren¡¯t willing to believe it?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know whether I¡¯ll believe it or not, you won¡¯t even tell me.¡±

    ¡°I know you will not believe it, because I¡¯m unsure if I believe it myself. It is a preposterous, silly thing to say out loud in my own company, never mind with you. Am I not allowed to have a few secrets of my own? You already know the most important one.¡±

    Samantha stopped imitating my tic and conceded, ¡°Alright. I have a bunch of stuff I don¡¯t want people cowing about either, none of it as... life-changing as yours though.¡±

    ¡°Do those secrets involve the animals you claim to be so fond of?¡±

    ¡°No comment.¡±

    I closed the book I was reading, ¡°Why is it so hard to find any information on Nihilist Magic? I¡¯ve scoured every damned book in this study, and yet there¡¯s nary a mention of it at all.¡±

    ¡°When I asked Miss Jennings, she told me that a lot of people consider it the domain of the Black Lady, which brings ill luck upon those who learn of it. I don¡¯t believe any of that rubbish ¨C but they try to keep it out of the textbooks to avoid offending people.¡±

    ¡°Why did you ask Miss Jennings?¡± I inquired.

    ¡°Oh, I was learning about Regenerative techniques and saw it mentioned as a cyclical opposite.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s regeneration magic saved Claude¡¯s life, so it was a good thing that she found herself so interested in it.

    Think of the devil and he shall appear because Claude soon made his arrival to the study in the most bombastic way possible. The doors swung so hard that they smashed against the wall. He limped his way into the study and shouted so loud that everyone on the damn campus could hear him in the process. ¡°Did you hear? Adrian Roderro just turned up at the front gate!¡± he panted.

    ¡°He¡¯s back already?¡± Samantha gasped.

    I returned my book and resigned myself to the fact that I wasn¡¯t going to get much studying done on Nihilist Magic for the time being, not with Claude shredding his vocal cords to pieces to share what would soon be common knowledge.

    ¡°He was never suspended from the school,¡± I added, ¡°I believe that Felipe and Beatrice may have a thing or two to say to him though.¡±

    Even to the end, Adrian¡¯s Father insisted that his son was not involved in his plot. Given that Adrian was still a minor and there was no evidence connecting him to the crime, there was never a real risk of him being convicted of the same offences. It was purely for the sake of salvaging his reputation amongst the noble class.

    Whether it worked or not would largely depend on the families'' pre-existing opinions on the Roderro house. They didn¡¯t win many fans when the truth came out, but there were a few dedicated defenders of their position, some of whom believed that matrilineal marriage shouldn¡¯t be permitted when it came to inheriting the family business.

    Compromise was such a dirty word.

    I followed them both out of the study and to the front yard, where a small group of spectators had gathered to see the world¡¯s most evil man step through the front gates. His carriage pulled to a stop, and Adrian stepped out looking every bit as miserable as he must have felt. I did not envy the amount of work it took to manage a noble house, even one with few members like his. A few jeers were thrown his way by troublemakers. He ignored them, and that was how I knew that his mood wasn¡¯t improved by anything happening in his life.

    I held back and observed from a distance. Adrian did not stick around to meet and greet his legions of loyal fans. He stormed through the huddle and marched towards the head office to re-enrol without sparing a word.

    ¡°Bloody hell, he has a face like thunder,¡± Claude chuckled.

    ¡°I¡¯d be upset in his position as well,¡± I said, ¡°Now he¡¯s going to have to deal with a negative reputation that he had no part in creating.¡±

    Claude winced, ¡°Ah, sorry.¡±

    What a worthless apology. I didn¡¯t accept that he¡¯d changed his ways just because he got a gunshot to the waist. Once his timidness faded into nothing, it would be back to business as usual. He was only staying out of my way because Samantha was endeavouring to befriend me. It was easy to see the ways he separated himself from the group if he already knew that I was going to be around.

    ¡°But how can you be so sure that he didn¡¯t have a say in things?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It would be highly unusual if this entire plot was launched at his behest. I understand that some parents are willing to do anything for their children, but conspiracy to commit murder may be a step too far for most.¡±

    Claude accepted my reasoning and left the argument there. There was no evidence for either side of the argument anyway. I was the person who supposedly disliked him the most of all, though in reality, I understood him better than anyone else too. His route was never my favourite, and the arrest of his father was a sudden turn in a story that I thought I already knew, but none of that meant he was a fundamentally different person to the Adrian from the original game. There were some redeeming qualities hidden under that abrasive outer shell.

    ¡°All of the other students have spun up the rumour mill,¡± Claude observed.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard not to hear what they¡¯re saying, but I doubt any of them have the nerve to say it to him directly.¡±

    The Teacher¡¯s attempts to keep people from talking were always doomed to fail. The campus was too large and held too many private spaces for them to effectively wage information warfare against us. Nothing short of gagging the main offenders was going to put a stop to it. One of the nattering girls at the head of the peanut gallery turned her attention to Samantha and I. Loud enough for us to hear, she bemoaned the state of things.

    ¡°Hmph. I suppose those stories about Maria being with that commoner were true after all.¡±

    I didn¡¯t want to listen to this inane rubbish. I took my leave with Samantha and Claude in pursuit. Samantha wasn¡¯t that affected by it, but she seemed to think that I was upset.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s nothing I haven¡¯t heard before. I have thicker skin than they do. If I were to unleash my scorn upon them, it would only look bad for me.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me that the way you kept putting Adrian down was a half-measure?¡± Claude gasped. ¡°I shudder to think what it¡¯s like when you¡¯re mad.¡±

    As we approached the main thoroughfare of the campus¡¯ largest building, Adrian rounded the corner and ran right into me, too distracted with a pocket watch that he was holding in one hand to notice us approaching. He clung onto it for dear life as he lost his footing and nearly fell over.

    ¡°Hey, watch where you¡¯re going, Adrian,¡± Claude said on my behalf.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he replied plainly. That was odd. He wouldn¡¯t turn down an opportunity to get into an explosive argument for anything. His brain spooled up again a moment later when he noticed that he¡¯d walked into me. ¡°Actually, this is perfect. Can I have a word with you, Maria?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡±

    Claude and Samantha didn¡¯t agree, but it wasn¡¯t their choice to make. We split apart and Adrian led me towards the dorms so that we could find a quiet spot to chat. Adrian sneered at me from the fore, ¡°I¡¯m sure that you¡¯re overjoyed with the news of my Father¡¯s arrest.¡±

    ¡°I have no idea why you have this vindictive impression of me. A bit of verbal sparring does not mean I¡¯m wishing for horrible things for you and your family. I don¡¯t care one bit about your father, or that is to say; I¡¯m happy that his idiotic scheme was stopped before it killed someone, I¡¯m not ¡®happy¡¯ that you¡¯re miserable because of it.¡±

    Adrian came out with a surprising conclusion, ¡°I¡¯m not miserable. He only has himself to blame. He¡¯s always trying to meddle in my business, even when I tell him not to. What kind of idiot would arrange an assassination as obvious as that? He deserves every bit of that sentence in my opinion.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to enjoy dealing with everyone¡¯s questions about what I know, or how I feel about it. I¡¯m starting to understand why you have such scant patience for them.¡±

    ¡°Is that all you want to say? It¡¯s rare for you to ask me for anything.¡±

    Adrian paused beneath one of the archways that led into the courtyard, ¡°I¡¯d like to apologise for my Father¡¯s actions. As the head of the Roderro family, it is my responsibility to extend my condolences to those affected.¡± He angled his face away so I couldn¡¯t see what emotion was tinging his words.

    ¡°Am I the first person you¡¯ve apologised to?¡±

    ¡°I decided to get the hardest one out of the way first.¡±

    He considered me a more difficult apology than the person that his Father was actually trying to kill? He really didn¡¯t feel anything for Felipe and Beatrice. His pride was more important than going to the source and confronting the real victims.

    ¡°I needn¡¯t hear an apology from you. Felipe and Beatrice do, and your family¡¯s penance will be paid in jail time. What judgement do you expect from me?¡±

    He sighed, ¡°I expected you to needle me, as you always do. Did you know that some of the people I called friends have already turned their backs on me? I¡¯m beginning to learn where their true loyalties lie.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no friend. And as I said, I¡¯m not so petty as to mock something as serious as this. You should find Felipe and speak with him before you worry about me.¡± I was no social butterfly ¨C but Adrian was starting to make me question whether he understood the value of an apology.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do that.¡±

    He cut a lonesome figure as he meandered his way across the yard and through into the opposite building. I leaned back against the wall and shook my head. He was going to have a tough time of it now, and it was all thanks to his Father...

 Chapter 49

    After our final lesson of the day, I asked Samantha to accompany me to see Miss Jennings and ask a few questions about the magical phenomena I experienced at the theatre. Having her around would be disarming for Jennings, who would see it as an expression of our collective curiosity over something to be worried about. Samantha was happy to go along with whatever I asked ¨C seeing it as a way to get closer to being a real friend.

    Miss Jennings worked on multiple subjects, aside from magic she was also something of a history buff, and frequently held lectures for the senior students on a wide variety of topics. There weren¡¯t enough magic classes to fill her week¡¯s schedule, and she was a full-time employee at the academy for fear of her being poached by another institution in search of mages.

    Miss Jennings was nose deep in a book when we knocked on the door to her lecture room turned office. In a flurried panic, she reached out to the desk and tried to tidy the place up. She rarely expected to have guests at this time of day when everyone wanted to take a break from listening to the teachers for several hours.

    ¡°Maria, Samantha! What a pleasant surprise!¡± she stuttered between stuffing papers into the drawers and disposing of pieces of rubbish that littered the place. We allowed her to settle things before barraging her with questions about magical theory. When she was happy that the room was presentable, she returned to us with an ashamed grin that lurched from edge to edge.

    ¡°We were hoping to ask you some questions about material outside of your lessons, Ma¡¯am.¡±

    She giggled, ¡°You two are going to drive me crazy. You¡¯re already so far ahead of everyone else in your studies, sometimes I feel like I¡¯m wasting my breath by lecturing you.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with going over the basics again,¡± Samantha offered in response.

    ¡°Oh, please continue, by all means. I¡¯m very happy that both of you have discovered such a passion for the art. A lot of grade-five mages never explore their potential due to a lack of interest. Having two of them in my cohort is something worthy of boasting about. Now, what is it that has caught your imagination?¡±

    Samantha spoke on our behalf, ¡°I already told you about what happened at the theatre, and I¡¯ve done more research on light magic since ¨C but Maria is curious about the other side of things.¡±

    ¡°Samantha was telling me about the regeneration magic she was studying, and that caught my attention. But when I looked in the studies there was little to no mention of what nihilism was or how it was used.¡±

    Jennings had a conflicted look about her, ¡°Well, that¡¯s because many people consider it too dangerous to have out in the open. There¡¯s no official ban in place, but most mages refuse to teach it, learn it, and the publishing houses will turn away anyone trying to publish texts that contain information about it.¡±

    ¡°Is it that dangerous?¡±

    She laughed, ¡°No more dangerous than the other spells I¡¯ve been showing you, in fact, nihilism and the magic that is derived from it is more dangerous to the user than anyone else. A lightning bolt is deadly enough, but unlike nihilist spells you can cast it multiple times without running the risk of dying from exhaustion.¡±

    ¡°I see. That¡¯s why there isn¡¯t any information about it in the studies.¡±

    ¡°Not necessarily,¡± she added, ¡°Don¡¯t tell the other teachers that I said this ¨C but there are more dogmatic reasons why that information is suppressed. Many consider nihilist magic to be the realm of the Black Lady and by extension the Dark Goddess. From a rational perspective, there is no other reason for such a thing to be hidden.¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t going to get into trouble for asking, are we?¡± Samantha worried.

    ¡°No such thing will happen on my watch, I can promise you that. I¡¯ve always been of the opinion that educating young mages about them is important. In a controlled environment, we can ensure the information they ingest is accurate and that the best practices to stay safe are known to them.¡±

    Jennings walked to the board and grabbed a piece of chalk, scribbling down several notes in quick succession to show us some of the important points. Nihilism and Regeneration were respectively categorized with dark and light magic. Samantha had a powerful affinity for light magic, something she would soon discover for herself. Was I the same, but for dark magic?

    ¡°Nihilism and Regeneration are often misconstrued as the only aspects of dark and light magic, though in truth they¡¯re specific disciplines that utilise the same principles. Regeneration uses magical energy to strengthen the bonds between things, while Nihilism unloads a large quantity of magical energy into a small area, causing those bonds to break down at a rapid pace. It can quite literally make things disappear into thin air ¨C or rather, break them down into their base elements so quickly that they seem to disappear.¡±

    Like what happened to the bullet that nearly hit me. In that instant, I somehow managed to locate the projectile as it moved through the air, dismantle the molecular bonds that held it together using my magic, and avoid being struck and killed. No wonder it tired me out so much, dispensing with that much energy in one go was probably enough to knock anything less than a grade-five mage out on the spot.

    ¡°Nihilism magic is powerful but it has severe limitations. To effectively use it, one must train their stamina over and over again, lest they run dry too quickly to find it of any use. In that respect, it is less dangerous than the other schools of magic. The outcome is ultimately the same, if you misuse any form of magic, it will do harm and potentially kill.¡±

    I got lucky back at the theatre then. The bullet wasn¡¯t the only dangerous thing about that situation. If I used too much power, I would have died or passed out. I was still curious as to what purpose this kind of magic served. A majority of the disciplines were connected with particular industries and jobs, like forging. Dismantling something on a molecular level wasn¡¯t very useful in my opinion, not unless there was also a way to harvest the elements afterwards.

    ¡°There has long been a scholarly debate over if Nihilism and Regeneration are cyclical partners or competing opposites.¡±

    She drew two diagrams onto the board to demonstrate her point. The first was a pair of arrows going around in a cycle, while the second pair pointed towards each other in a tug-of-war.

    ¡°In my opinion, the first explanation makes the most sense. Nihilism is connected with ideas like decay, finality, and the limits of time. Regeneration is growth, life, stasis in eternity, and the branches of what some call the universal tree. There cannot be growth without decay ¨C there cannot be an ending without a beginning.¡±

    This all sounded a little wishy-washy to me. These broad strokes were tainted with a dogmatic argument that must have kept them away from scholarly circles for hundreds of years. If they believed that nihilist magic was evil, it explained why it was kept out of the books save for a passing mention. What exactly were the practical implications of these associated concepts?

    I crossed my arms and studied her notes carefully, ¡°Because men are likely to fear death, they reject what nihilism stands for.¡±

    Jennings frowned, ¡°Morbid but accurate. There have been many mages who believed that following the path of regeneration would unlock the secrets to immortality. As far as I know, none of them came close to succeeding. The mortal body can only last for so long. Eventually, you cannot outpace the ravages of time by using healing magic. Samantha ¨C you should keep your goals realistic.¡±

    ¡°I will, Ma¡¯am,¡± Samantha replied, ¡°Saving Claude at the theatre is more than I could have asked for.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be happy to lend both of you some of my private collection, but they may not contain the full plethora of information that you¡¯re looking for.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t you get into trouble for teaching us about dark magic?¡±

    Jennings smiled, ¡°Whether something is good or bad depends entirely on the outcome. Unless you hurt other people in the process, there is no such thing as an evil tool. I¡¯m sure that a pair of prodigies like you two can find a use for Nihilist magic in a way that nobody else has.¡±

    Jennings walked over to one of her bookshelves and rifled through the tomes that lay within, eventually returning with a trio of heavy manuals that covered the history of the two-sided conflict between light and dark magic.

    ¡°I do need to warn you, please don¡¯t practice this without supervision. Nihilist magic is the most energy-intensive form of all ¨C and you can easily harm yourself if you don¡¯t carefully control how much you use.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know where to start,¡± I assured her ¨C excluding the fact that I¡¯d used it by accident during the shootout. Samantha glanced down at my left hand to see if I was doing the tell she accused me of having. I wasn¡¯t exactly lying anyway. I had no concept of how to use the spell.

    ¡°Thank you, Miss Jennings!¡± Samantha chirped as we walked away with our ill-gotten gains. My mind immediately went to going to one of our dorm rooms to start researching in detail, but Samantha was already wiped out from a day of lectures.

    ¡°Let me guess ¨C you accidentally used the most dangerous spell around during that theatre incident?¡±

    I rolled my eyes, ¡°Yes. That is why I¡¯m curious as to how it works.¡±

    Samantha ensured we were alone before asking a follow-up question, ¡°Are you going to use it to... kill people?¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    I burst out into laughter, ¡°Kill people? With that? I can¡¯t imagine a less practical way of ending another person¡¯s life. For one thing, it almost knocked me out cold, second, it doesn¡¯t do anything that a gun can¡¯t, and third ¨C I¡¯m not planning on killing anyone else.¡±

    Samantha seemed to doubt my claim, ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Really. I didn¡¯t do any of that because I wanted to.¡±

    There was no way for her to understand my perspective or my wish to live this second life without causing as much trouble as my last one. To her, it must have seemed like I didn¡¯t care for the lives of other people, given the casual way I killed others. Needs must. I would happily live the rest of my days without ever seeing a gun again. I could always find a new hobby to replace them.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t get you,¡± she grumbled.

    And she never would ¨C the true story was too much for anyone to believe.

    Samantha accepted my initial explanation of learning those skills while training for shooting competitions, but that was only because she didn¡¯t understand what a shooting competition really was. Most of the time was spent standing around in a foggy field and waiting for your turn. It was not an adequate replacement for combat training.

    ¡°Would you like to take these first? I know you¡¯re going to be spending all evening reading again.¡±

    Samantha handed me the stack of books, ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll hurry and finish them as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine ¨C there¡¯s no great hurry. You¡¯re the one who wanted to know more.¡± Samantha observed the ease with which I carried the books with a curious hum, ¡°I almost forgot how athletic you were!¡±

    ¡°Is it strange?¡± I said, knowing full well that noble girls were a bunch of layabouts who¡¯d sooner faint from shock than put effort into something.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say no,¡± she admitted, ¡°But it makes me feel a little better about how big I am.¡±

    I gave her a glare, ¡°You can only complain if you tower above all of the senior boys. Or better yet, transfer some of that height to me if you don¡¯t want it.¡±

    ¡°Never mind, I¡¯ll keep it.¡±

    The problem had only gotten worse since Samantha started following me. It was even more obvious how short I was with a giant like her lumbering above. We arrived in the dorm hallway to a bizarre sight. Adrian was being accosted by several other students, who were surrounding him on all sides.

    The girl at the head of the mob¡¯s voice cracked as she yelled at him, ¡°Don¡¯t you have any shame? Showing your face in this academy again after what your Father did! It¡¯s a disgrace.¡±

    Hassling Adrian seemed to be the new thing that everyone was trying to get in on. Nobody was brave enough to take a swing at him or make things physical. Adrian was one of the bigger boys, and his prickly disposition scared people away. Adrian¡¯s face was one of boredom. He really didn¡¯t care what they thought.

    ¡°My presence is not evidence of a lack of shame. I have been apologising to the victims on my family¡¯s behalf. If you have a problem with that ¨C then you may refrain from speaking to me.¡±

    His biting tone wasn¡¯t going to win over any hearts and minds, but this group wasn¡¯t hoping to be convinced. They were hoping to earn some social capital by harassing Adrian. The girl at the head noticed us approaching and covered her mouth, ¡°Look, even Lady Maria is standing there and observing your meagre defence. Have you anything to say to her?¡±

    I did not like it when people tried to put words into my mouth. I approached her and scowled, ¡°Adrian has already apologised to me. I told him to save it for Felipe and Beatrice. For one boasting of your sense of shame, you are more than happy to needlessly drag me into your squabbles.¡±

    She visibly winced as I cut through her clout-chasing.

    ¡°B-But surely it did not suffice!¡±

    ¡°That is my judgement to make. There will be no forgiveness from me if you continue to block the dorm corridor with this circus of yours.¡±

    All of their aggression slipped away like a pierced balloon. There was no greater black mark for one¡¯s social standing in this academy than getting on my bad side. I didn¡¯t engage in any of the gamesmanship, but that was part of the reason why my approval was seen as something prestigious. Anyone who could be my friend was destined to be a Queen Bee of the academy, unless their name was Samantha because nobody respected Samantha or anything she did.

    The crowd dispersed, leaving Adrian leaning against the wall with a weary face. He didn¡¯t want to appear troubled by what they were doing, but it took a certain toll to endure constant harassment like that.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for your help.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t helping ¨C they irritated me.¡±

    Samantha jumped in, ¡°She means ¡®thank you,¡¯ I¡¯ve been learning her special way of wording things for a few weeks now.¡±

    ¡°And there is more learning to be done. I cannot stand boorish behaviour,¡± I said, putting up my fa?ade for Adrian¡¯s sake, ¡°I would have said something regardless of who their target was. Any who use my name and reputation as a weapon must be shown the error of their ways.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that even your reputation can survive being seen with me,¡± Adrian scoffed. He straightened out his blazer and made a hasty exit to his dorm room.

    Samantha must have thought I had a split personality at this point. I was never antagonistic to Adrian without provocation, but it was easy for other people and him to perceive that as some sort of intense hatred. I honestly didn¡¯t care about him at all.

    ¡°Uh, that was interesting. There are some real troublesome folks at this academy.¡±

    None more so than me.

    ¡°Goodnight, Samantha.¡±

    Samantha blinked the confusion away, ¡°Oh, goodnight!¡±

    I pulled the door shut and exhaled ¨C glad to have some space to myself again. I laid the books down on the desk and untied the braid in my hair. Keeping up the act was exhausting sometimes. Part of me wanted to revert back to my old accent and turns of phrase, but I knew that it would cause me no end of issues if my entire personality changed overnight. I was good at playing pretend, but I¡¯d never done it for years on end like this.

    There were a lot of developments happening and that was never a good thing. The distinct stench of trouble was starting to gather around my head. Something stupid was about to happen, something that would demand my abilities as an assassin. If it did, I¡¯d see it as confirmation of my running theory that this wasn¡¯t meant to be a punishment. I was paying penance by utilising those skills to save some innocent people. Everything lined up too perfectly to be a mere coincidence.

    Was there going to be another assassination plot?

    Maybe not. That wasn¡¯t an appropriate escalation of things in my view. This was a world filled with magic and legends and prophecies of doom. Saving Felipe was just a warm-up. The problems I faced were going to get more severe and destructive. Every good story needed to escalate in the second act. Putting myself into the shoes of my benefactor for a moment ¨C why would they go to so much effort to bring me here for something that simple?

    Saving the life of one person in exchange for the lives of many others did not feel like an appropriate exchange. I¡¯d killed hundreds and hundreds of people back in my old life. Saving just one in exchange, and turning the balance even more negative in the process, it didn¡¯t add up. Not to project an uncaring attitude unto them, but thousands of people died in unjust ways every day. What made Felipe so important that they needed me to rescue him?

    Unless he held a more important role in the course of events than I expected. The merger of their families was a big deal, with serious implications for the future direction of the nation as a whole. A lot of people¡¯s livelihoods rode on things going well. Dissatisfaction could lead to unrest, which could lead to revolution. The smallest changes could lead to major consequences.

    But I¡¯d never once assumed that things were going to play out the same way as the game. While the characters remained the same for the most part, there was never an indication that Adrian¡¯s Father had an interest in merging with the Booker¡¯s business empire. It was too specific to be included in a game about romancing a bunch of noble stereotypes. This was a fully-fledged world with all of the chaos that came with it, not a collection of code and artwork pieced together into a tightly constructed jigsaw puzzle.

    I switched over to my evening clothes and sat on the edge of my bed. The books were calling out to me with a siren¡¯s song. My curiosity about this new field of magic would not be quenched by a simple discussion with Miss Jennings. I was interested in uncovering all of the little secrets that hid within. I was also extremely tired and knew that the information inside would not be properly absorbed into my brain on a first reading.

    This was all Samantha¡¯s fault. The girl was exhausting to be around, with boundless energy and stamina for all sorts of inane activities. I was a miserable old crone who relished the anti-social lifestyle. Extroverts like her were my greatest weakness. I started to wonder why I¡¯d accepted her offer to be ¡®provisional friends¡¯ in the first place. It wasn¡¯t as if anyone would believe her if she revealed that I was the one who killed the assassins.

    At the time I thought that letting her peek behind the curtain would dampen her enthusiasm for me. Aside from the rumours, and the action I was involved in, I was a fairly boring person to be around. I liked to read, quietly, and keep to myself. Whenever one of the students tried to involve me in the latest piece of trendsetting I could only tilt my head and expression confusion at them.

    The hottest story to hit the mouths of rumour-lovers before Adrian¡¯s return was a claim that Talia was actually the one who organised the assassination plot against her brother, or that she was involved in some way. It was the sort of thing that didn¡¯t stand up to scrutiny on a basic level. They had an older brother; the reason Felipe was marrying Beatrice matrilineally was because he wasn¡¯t going to be the one leading the family when their father passed away. But when did facts ever stop a sensational tall tale from spreading like wildfire?

    At least they weren¡¯t discriminating. Almost every single person, political entity and organisation were being blamed to varying degrees. The man responsible was behind bars for twelve years, having admitted to the plot and the investigation having hard evidence of his involvement, but being accused of a grave crime like that was both exciting and convenient for their pet cause of choice. The biggest shock was that Claude hesitated to get involved with the show ¨C choosing to reserve his words and wave away anyone trying to make him join their side.

    There were a lot of ways to learn a lesson and getting shot was a good teacher. I wouldn¡¯t recommend getting shot, of course, but it did mellow him out and make him realise that the reality of this stuff was more dangerous than he first thought. It would be some time yet before he stopped limping on that leg. He was lucky that the impairment wasn¡¯t permanent.

    As for Adrian, it was obvious to me that this shakeup had affected him emotionally. He never held a high view of his Father, so his comments about him getting what was coming were honest, but that didn¡¯t exclude him from feeling the pressure of what was a serious change in his daily life. He couldn¡¯t run the family business from behind bars. Adrian was given the reigns to what was still a huge conglomerate of noble and industrial interests. He didn¡¯t hit the ground running ¨C he just hit the ground full stop.

    With all of that happening it was impressive that he found the time and will to come back to the academy at all. Most people would have elected to preserve their privacy and stay at home. Adrian could have easily whittled away the days away from prying eyes, living off the money his family made and occupying himself with whatever he pleased. Clearly, that wasn¡¯t his plan.

    This was his display of defiance.

    Adrian hated being told what to do, he hated it when people doubted or diminished his abilities. He wasn¡¯t going to let his old man¡¯s mistakes dictate what he did with his life. He was going to come back, bend the knee and make his apologies, and then continue on the path that he chose for himself. That was who Adrian was. The biggest question mark was if he¡¯d shed some of that exterior resentment in the process.

    We were rapidly approaching the first critical juncture in Samantha¡¯s journey. The time when choices would be made that would define the rest of her time at the academy, and by extension, mine. She had the pick of the litter ¨C the eyes of some of the most important people at the academy, even if she didn¡¯t realise it yet. Based on my observations, she was currently closest with Max and Claude, neglecting bonds with Adrian, Theodore Van Walser and Lance Franzheim, who I¡¯d yet to see wandering the halls.

    He was always a slippery one in the game, the type of character who demanded frustrating trial and error or a strategy guide to woo. I was curious. Tomorrow I was going to ask her a few questions about her relationship with the boys to get an idea of where we stood.

    Slipping under the covers and turning off the light, I stared at a beam of ambient glow that was sneaking under the foot of my door and projecting against the wall. The sound of laughter and the stomping of feet kept me awake for some time.

 Chapter 50

    It was a first for Adrian to humiliate himself, repeatedly, for the sake of his Father.

    Normally he was happy to let his Father fool himself into believing that he cared about his plans or opinions, if only to keep the man quiet and away from his life at the academy. That was his first mistake. His meddling went far beyond his worst expectations, transforming into a greedy play for power that besmirched the reputation of the family and forced all of the responsibility onto his head.

    What really upset him was the pitiful appearance that his Father took when he visited him in custody. It was almost as if the man intentionally turned himself into a ruffian to match his environment. The fact was that he did it to himself, so the downtrodden persona he put on only outraged him further. How could he anoint himself as a victim in all of this?

    ¡°Arsehole...¡±

    Adrian stared at the golden pocket watch on the desk in his dorm room. It may as well have been a pair of handcuffs for all that it represented. Adrian was now the head of the family. It was bestowed to the head so that they could protect themselves and the house from danger. A one-time use ticket to a point in the past of their choosing.

    There were some complications though.

    Using it did not revert the body. He would remain the same age as he was when he activated the recall spell. It was seldom used ¨C but every house head was given the same advice, refresh the recall point regularly just in case. Repeating years of your life over again was not worth the advantage it offered in potentially avoiding disaster. Simple actions could make the difference between life and death. No grand plans were needed.

    Adrian wasn¡¯t aware of the true nature of the timepiece until his Father handed it over. It was a closely kept secret by the family, and with the branches struggling to have sons and daughters, the number of people who knew that truth was dwindling by the year. Cathdra drove himself mad with worry about a future where the Roderro clan died out not by intent, but through bad luck. His brother, Adrian¡¯s uncle, had passed away from an illness a few years before. Adrian¡¯s cousin died in an accident a few months later and terminated the branch. That was the catalyst for Cathdra¡¯s desperate and illegal actions.

    But Adrian couldn¡¯t care less for the future of his family. Everyone around him was obsessed with securing a legacy which they would never live to see or benefit from. What good was living a life paralysed through that kind of paranoia? Life was life. You could live in a space of self-torment, or you could accept it for what it was and try to enjoy it. Lying back on the bed, Adrian wanted to forget about his troubles and enjoy a restful sleep before the drama started again the following morning.

    The biggest surprise to him was Maria¡¯s reaction to his Father¡¯s arrest. She was always sharp-tongued, and that venom was not reserved for him alone. Maria was sensitive and quick to anger. She had a very particular set of likes and dislikes that would earn her praise or scorn respectively, and she was not above cheap shots if they upset the person she was in a spat with. For her to hold back on making any comments about the situation was unusual in his eyes. Her discretion told her that it wasn¡¯t an appropriate subject to make light of.

    The rest of the student body was not so restrained. It was impossible for him to close his eyes and ears to the whispers that swirled around him like a hurricane. That was to be expected. Even the mundane was warped into a big deal. A real, genuine piece of subterfuge designed to murder one of the other students was the most exciting thing to ever happen on the academy¡¯s grounds. The only measure of protection was his fearsome reputation as the year¡¯s shortest-tempered delinquent, but when they thought he wasn¡¯t close enough to hear they really let loose with the barbs.

    It took all of Adrian¡¯s patience not to march over there and make his opinion on them known. He was working hard to make sure that his reputation could recover somewhat, and picking fights would only set him back. It was harder than he first believed to show contrition. Contrition for a crime that he had no part in, contrition for a crime that came about because his Father always had to know best.

    He wasn¡¯t looking so smart now ¨C unshaven and shackled in a prison cell.

    A complicated cocktail of feelings was present. Part of him wanted to laugh at the state he was in, another was angry at the abdication of responsibility he¡¯d unknowingly walked into, and the final was that of Adrian as a younger boy, a boy that was now without parental guidance in a complicated world. There was no getting around it. There would be people trying to take advantage of his family¡¯s situation now that Cathdra was imprisoned.

    It was playing hell on his sleep schedule. Adrian couldn¡¯t will himself to rest no matter how tightly he shut his eyes and tried to ward away the intrusive thoughts. He slipped under the covers and stared at the ceiling above his bed. It was easy to lose track of time when you were incapable of sleeping. How much time was being wasted by his restless mind? Minutes felt like hours, but a state of half-awareness could mean that hours passed in seconds.

    Adrian marked each noise that came from the outside. Feet slamming against the wooden floors, people talking after curfew, and the shuffling of furniture from the rooms on either side of his own. But one noise made him jolt. It was the sound of his outside door being unlocked.

    Adrian was one of the lucky few whose room came with a balcony that looked out into one of the gardens. The rooms were allocated by random lots, but accommodating the students with a luxurious dorm was always a priority. Adrian hoped he was simply hearing things, but the rattling intensified. Someone was there, silhouetted through the curtains that covered his balcony.

    A thousand different culprits ran through his mind. An assassin spurned by the actions of his father and out for revenge, or one hired by the parents to issue payback for the danger that their children were placed in. He ducked under his covers and pretended to be asleep as the door swung open and a strong breeze rolled through. Peering from under the blanket, he spied an unusually dressed man in a three-piece suit, domino mask and top hat.

    He looked at the bed and smiled to himself. Adrian kept quiet as the trespasser quickly moved towards his desk and wardrobe. It looked like revenge wasn¡¯t on the menu. He started by investigating the drawers, and then the wardrobe itself ¨C though Adrian found his eyes rolling when the man gasped in realisation once he spotted the golden watch laying on the desk. Thievery it was. Adrian was going to be damned before he let some two-bit thief steal a family heirloom.

    He kicked the covers away and leapt out of bed, with a finger outstretched and a scowl on his face.

    ¡°Thief! Get your hands off of my watch, this instant!¡±

    The besuited man slipped the timepiece into his pocket and smirked cockily. His other hand reached under the hem of his cap and held it outwards in a dramatic, bat-like pose.

    ¡°I am no mere thief, young man! Remember this evening well, for you have been visited by the world¡¯s most famous gentleman criminal! I am Caius Willow, the rose-bearing phantom!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a damn who you are,¡± Adrian spat, ¡°You¡¯re going to put that back where you found it or you¡¯re going to be in for a world of hurt!¡±

    This was a targeted attack, of that Adrian was certain. Someone talked about the true nature of the timepiece ¨C someone who was close enough to the family to know what it was capable of. Why else would he break into his room and go straight for it? Any normal thief would assume that there was little of value in a school dorm room, even if it was dedicated to educating the rich and powerful.

    ¡°A young gentleman like you isn¡¯t going to harm me.¡±

    ¡°You wanna¡¯ bet?¡±

    ¡°Those who know me have learned to never put money against me!¡±

    Adrian ran towards the balcony door and slammed it shut, standing guard to prevent him from getting out. Rather than confront him or come to blows the flamboyant thief merely wagged his index finger and moved to the other exit. With a snap of his finger and a jostle of the door-knob, it was opened from the inside. Adrian even went to the effort to lock it with his key before trying to sleep. The stranger somehow circumvented the mechanism without touching it.

    ¡°These dorm rooms are so low tech,¡± he lamented to a steaming Adrian, ¡°To think that the bright future of our nation is living and learning here. Any old criminal can break in and do whatever they please!¡±

    ¡°Are you stupid? The entire student body is out there. You¡¯re going to get caught.¡±

    The man laughed, ¡°And how do you think I got onto this campus? Your armed guards aren¡¯t worth the money spent ¨C and I can slip through this academy building with nary a peep from the uninitiated. It¡¯s time for me to take my leave.¡±

    He tipped his hat and turned around, only to come face-to-face with a girl small in stature but intimidating in malicious presence. It was Maria.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked - completely oblivious to the scenario that was playing out behind formerly closed doors. Caius was not in the mood to answer any more questions. He turned on his heel and tried to make a break for it down the hallway, only to be stopped dead and dragged back as an unusually forceful hand tugged on the back of his cape.

    ¡°Alright, I can tell that you are bad news,¡± she concluded. Caius couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. A young girl almost half his height was demonstrating an ungodly feat of strength.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°He stole my bloody watch!¡± Adrian yelled. Several other students poked out from their rooms to see what the fuss was about.

    ¡°Ah! A pervert! A pervert broke into the dorms!¡± one of the girls cried.

    ¡°I am not a pervert!¡± Caius replied, trying in vain to wrench his cape free from the stubborn girl pulling back against him. Sensing that she was merely delaying his escape as a means of capturing him ¨C drastic action had to be taken. He snapped his fingers again and a bout of flame ignited the cloth that connected them. The silken fabric quickly caught alight and tore into two pieces. He staggered forward and made a break for it once again.

    ¡°You son of a...¡± Maria growled.

    Adrian nearly toppled over as Maria broke out into a sprint and started chasing the man down the hallway like a predator. She was not holding back. The rest of the students watched in awe. The gap closed rapidly and Caius was starting to sweat. What on Earth were they feeding these kids?

    Caius wasn¡¯t going to let himself get rattled by one random girl! He was the thief extraordinaire, the dirty secret that every noble family relied on to pilfer important items and collect valuable information. This was a job that he couldn¡¯t afford to mess up. The pay being offered for the watch was simply too much for him to refuse and spoke to the profound importance that it held in the process. He¡¯d carefully planned out every step of his entry and exit, learning the layout of the academy before even attempting to enter one of the dorms.

    The young man was onto something by stopping him from leaving via the balcony, but he also had several backup plans in place just in case. All he needed to do was reach his secondary exit and slip away over the fence, leaving the guards none-the-wiser as to the crime committed right beneath their noses. That was the intention anyway, but the girl who confronted him outside of the bedroom door was still following him, and she showed no signs of slowing down or getting tired.

    As they exited the dorm hallway and came into the first study, Caius smirked. There was no way that she knew what he was planning to do next. He tucked his head and hurried his pace to open a gap between him and his young pursuer. Nobody was able to stop him now. He was moving too quickly for any bystanders to step in and restrain him, and it seemed that even the mystery girl had given up and peeled away.

    Caius smiled to himself ¨C another job well done. All he needed to do now was reach his other exit and sneak back over the fence before the armed guards heard about what was going on. Caius impressed himself sometimes. There was a reason his name was spoken of with such hushed tones, and tales of his daring do featured in newspapers and pulp novels across the nation. He was a fantasy brought to life, a master thief who could evade any justice and steal any item he pleased.

    His smirk did not last for long.

    From the left she reappeared like a cannonball in flight, hooking her arms around his waist and forcing him up and down onto his back. The breath left his lungs in one great gasp as her head pressed against his gut. They both hit the ground with a worrying thud, though Caius was on the worst end of things, almost smashing the back of his head against the marble floor.

    ¡°Show¡¯s over,¡± she quipped, scrambling around his back and pulling his arm into a lock. Adrian and the others arrived on the scene to see Maria Walston-Carter wrestling a fully-grown man to the floor and holding him captive.

    ¡°How did you catch up with him?¡± Adrian asked.

    ¡°I knew he was going to come this way. It¡¯s the closest exit.¡±

    Caius froze up. She¡¯d read him like an open book the entire time! But what good would he be as a thief if he didn¡¯t have a backup plan for his backup plan? Surely a girl her age wouldn¡¯t be able to beat him in a test of strength. Caius had fought his fair share of police officers and detectives in his time. Getting out of holds like this was a cinch. He rocked back and forth and started to get up onto his feet. Maria kept a firm hold of his arm, refusing to let go even as he did so.

    ¡°Just give it up. You can¡¯t get out of this.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure, little lady. I¡¯ve been in bigger pinches than this!¡±

    Adrian was filled with scorn, ¡°Give my back the watch, you bastard! How do you live a life where you debase yourself with this idiotic circus act?¡±

    ¡°Circus act? I¡¯m afraid that you don¡¯t understand the art which I am so well versed in, young man. My crimes are each pieces worthy of a place in the most prestigious of galleries!¡±

    Manipulating his fingers into the correct position, he cast yet another spell. A blinding flash was projected into the air in front of the crowd. Maria recoiled as her vision was stolen in an instant. He used every second of the opportunity he created and wrested control from her, using a flair of his burnt cape to cover his movements. He waited no longer to espouse his qualities to his adoring fans ¨C instead choosing to run to the window and leap through onto the balcony.

    ¡°Farewell, and remember to tell your friends about me!¡± From his pocket, he retrieved a blue rose and tossed it onto the ground, before jumping from the first floor and disappearing from sight.

    When Maria¡¯s vision returned, there was no sign of him.

    ¡°What the bloody hell was that?¡± Adrian yelled, ¡°He stole my watch!¡±

    <hr>

    Once everybody had calmed down and the prefects were informed about the break-in, I tried to piece together what ¡®that¡¯ was exactly. He made no secret about his motivations ¨C but that only spurred forth another set of questions that were no less baffling.

    ¡°Of course, I want it back, it¡¯s a family heirloom!¡± Adrian argued. Claude made himself known if only to posit like the detective he thought he was. He immediately launched into a fierce debate with Adrian about how important the watch really was.

    ¡°You could easily buy another watch that looks exactly like that one. I don¡¯t care how much sentimental value it has ¨C you¡¯re acting weird!¡±

    Though on this occasion he was onto something. Adrian¡¯s reaction was unusual in the extreme. He was flustered and angry like always, but also defensive about the details as to why the watch held so much significance to him. The thief targeted it for a reason, why else would he risk breaking into such a heavily guarded campus just for one item? Nobody else reported anything of theirs being taken.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t you just accept that I want it back? He broke in here and stole something that belongs to me, you¡¯d be doing the same thing if it happened to you! Every head of the Roderro house carries that watch with them, and now it¡¯s in the hands of some damnable clown!¡±

    I shifted between joining in and keeping silent several times while the spat continued.

    ¡°He targeted you for a reason, Adrian. There¡¯s something about that watch that you aren¡¯t telling us, something that he knows that we don¡¯t.¡±

    Adrian rolled his eyes, ¡°And you want me to spill all of our family secrets? I don¡¯t see how that changes anything. It¡¯s not like you lot are going to be tracking him down.¡±

    ¡°It might give us an idea as to why they stole it,¡± Claude reasoned.

    ¡°I¡¯m not telling you anything, Claude.¡±

    Max walked into the study, ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯s name is all this noise? I¡¯m trying to sleep.¡±

    ¡°Someone broke into Adrian¡¯s room and stole his watch,¡± Samantha explained.

    ¡°What, another student?¡±

    ¡°No, he was too old to be a student.¡±

    Max sat at one of the tables, ¡°Can¡¯t we go a week without something happening at this school? How do they keep letting these people in?¡±

    With Adrian being unwilling to divulge any further details and everyone else left in a state of shock and worry about yet another crime being committed in the building, Claude stroked his chin and seemed to catch on to something important. He held up his finger, before dropping it again as he thought twice. After some hesitancy, he decided to air his theory.

    ¡°You know, this reminds me of something.¡±

    Max leaned back and swung on the chair, ¡°It does?¡±

    Claude followed his instincts and strolled over to the fiction section of the study¡¯s bookshelves. The tip of his finger travelled down the spines of each book, assisted by his legendary familiarity with the subject matter of his interest. He pulled one of the books out and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

    ¡°I have a vague recollection of a robbery just like this one, and it came from this book. In fact ¨C I think he¡¯s stealing his act from the criminal in this novel. That blue rose he threw onto the balcony was a Sankiss Cordon, they only grow those overseas so he¡¯d have to import them.¡±

    Max stopped swinging and caught on to what Claude was implying, ¡°The only organisation that does is the Abdah Trading Company.¡±

    ¡°Really? I suppose that makes sense, given the size of it. It isn¡¯t just the rose, but the costume, and the way he speaks and operates. They¡¯re lifted directly from the character in here, his name is Sabbath, a self-declared gentleman thief and former circus mage.¡±

    Adrian looked over his shoulder, ¡°He¡¯s a fan of this book, then.¡±

    ¡°He must be. The references are too specific to ignore. He¡¯s a very influential character in these detective novels.¡± For once, Claude was actually offering some decent insight through his real-world knowledge.

    Max offered some of his own titbits, ¡°But if I¡¯m remembering correctly ¨C those roses are very expensive. The reason our company imports them is because some nobles view them as a status symbol, especially if they have roots in Charcene where they¡¯re grown. To use them as some sort of calling card he must be confident in his financial security.¡±

    Adrian backed away, ¡°So what? It¡¯s not like we can go around every florist in the country and ask them if they saw some idiot in a mask and top hat. He might have stolen them too.¡±

    Claude chuckled, ¡°You underestimate the power of inference. Things like this can help build a criminal¡¯s profile, and from that, you can guess where they¡¯ll strike next. Whether he¡¯s capable of recognising it or not, he still has preferences and biases that shape the way he behaves.¡±

    Adrian was not convinced.

    Claude had that sparkle in his eyes again, the one that came about whenever he started acting like a detective. It looked as if the gunshot wasn¡¯t quite the humbling moment I believed it to be. At least he wasn¡¯t making wild accusations before parsing through the evidence first. But I concurred with Adrian. Knowing the type of flower he was leaving behind wasn¡¯t going to help us.

    ¡°Now that he¡¯s taken Adrian¡¯s watch, I doubt that he will return to the campus.¡±

    ¡°But I read that criminals always return to the scene of the crime.¡±

    ¡°Do you honestly think that he¡¯s going to come back to the academy after getting away? He already knew what he was looking for when he came here. Someone gave him that information and paid him for the robbery.¡±

    Adrian snapped back, ¡°There¡¯s no way that anyone but me knows about the real value of that watch.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for sure, you won¡¯t even tell us why you want it back so bad,¡± Claude sighed.

    I understood his frustration, but Adrian reserved the right to keep that kind of information private if he wanted to. We weren¡¯t the people being assigned to investigate this crime. The long and short of it was that the watch was now missing, potentially in the hands of a person who wanted it badly enough to hire an ostentatious thief to get it. There was a secret to the watch that he was not willing to extoll.

    I stepped between Adrian and Claude, ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry ourselves over it. We are students first and detectives last. You should leave it to the professionals. We hardly have the legal authority to start investigating for ourselves.¡±

    ¡°That didn¡¯t stop you from chasing him down like a bloodhound,¡± Claude laughed.

    Adrian nodded, ¡°That¡¯s true. I thought she was fast during the physical exam, but she was nothing more than a blur when she realised what he was trying to do. Why did you go to so much effort to stop him?¡±

    ¡°Thievery is uncouth,¡± I offered simply. In all honesty, I¡¯d gotten swept up in proceedings and broke character. Maria didn¡¯t have a reason to chase him down with such bloodlust. I reminded myself to keep things more believable in the future.

    ¡°She totally got swept up in it,¡± Samantha prodded.

    ¡°I¡¯m not complaining. I just found it odd,¡± Adrian concluded, ¡°There¡¯s no point in standing around here and complaining now. He¡¯s gotten away and the police have been informed by the teachers. We should go back to sleep. I don¡¯t imagine that they will suspend lessons again just because of this.¡±

    It was getting late, and Claude would not be able to operate on any less than seven hours of sleep. I pushed away from the wall and headed back into the main hallway without saying another word. This whole situation stunk of the dramatic convention. Adrian insisting that none of us were going to get involved was the loudest invitation to the contrary that I could imagine.

    Another important event was on the horizon, and none of us would be able to escape its gravity.

 Chapter 51

    There was one piece of leftover business that hadn¡¯t been settled after the events at the theatre, and that was what Felipe knew about me. He was the second person aside from Samantha to know that I was the one responsible for the killings at Beatrice¡¯s manor and the parliament session. There was no hiding it from either of them, and I¡¯d do it again if I was placed in the same situation. After all ¨C the entire point of putting myself in danger was to protect them.

    But since concluding that I was more of a tool than a prisoner, my motivations shifted somewhat. A lot of strange things were happening without my input and there would be reasons as to why I¡¯d be involved with them eventually. I needed to stop overcomplicating things and accept my spot in this grand play of theirs.

    Felipe was absent for some time as the trial of Cathdra Roderro came to a close. He made a witness statement during the trial, as did Claude, which cemented his fate and a decade-plus prison term. It was nothing more than a formality in truth. Cathdra had given up the ghost when his hitman, Erwin Tees, flipped on him and revealed all to the investigators. There¡¯s no honour among thieves and there never will be.

    He managed to negotiate a few years shaved off of the sentence after confessing, but it was a harsh penalty regardless. It was rare to see a man of his station prosecuted at all, and if they were they benefited from more lenient sentencing. The weight of the evidence was too much to ignore, as were the calls for accountability from the Escobarus and Booker families. Very few nobles came to defend Cathdra in the end ¨C not after he risked the lives of their children in his scheme as well.

    Even after the trial ended it was difficult to find Felipe. He was busy preparing for an exam period that would decide his final year at the academy, but I also suspected that he was trying to work through his thoughts about me. It must have come as a shock to discover that I was the one gunning down all of those assassins. I wouldn¡¯t know what to say to me either.

    It was too important to ignore, and his opportunity finally arrived two days after the robbery. I was hanging in my usual haunt in the garden. Samantha was busy doing something for one of the teachers, so I cracked open one of the books that Miss Jennings gave us and decided to spend my time constructively. I discovered that most of the books were more interested in the mythology attached to nihilist magic rather than the practice of it.

    ¡°Maria.¡±

    I poked my nose over the page and stared at the intruder. Felipe was hesitant to encroach on my space without express permission. I closed the heavy tome and placed it into my lap as an unspoken invitation to enter the seating area. He stepped beneath the wooden archway but chose to remain standing.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see that you are well, Felipe.¡±

    This was very awkward for him, I could tell by the tone of his reply.

    ¡°Thank you. I don¡¯t mean to come off as ungrateful. It¡¯s been extremely busy since the incident at the theatre. I¡¯ve had to study, and attend the trial, and my father demanded a security review with the teachers, they managed to cool him down by saying that the culprits were behind bars but...¡±

    I cut to the chase, ¡°I understand ¨C but that isn¡¯t what you¡¯re here to speak with me about, is it?¡±

    Felipe was disquieted by my leap into the realm of the absurd. He wanted to dance around it and let me down gently with some probing questions, but here I was kicking over his plans and taking control of the conversation.

    ¡°I keep wondering about you, about how you killed those men who were coming for me. I don¡¯t get it. Why would you go to such lengths just to help me? We¡¯re friends, but that¡¯s hardly enough to justify risking your life so flagrantly.¡±

    ¡°I was there, and it would hardly be right to leave you to your fate without doing something.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t satisfied with that answer, ¡°Stop acting like this isn¡¯t a serious issue, Maria. This wasn¡¯t a case of stopping by and giving me a helping hand. You killed those people, you bloodied your hands and don¡¯t seem to care one bit about it. I can only imagine two possibilities ¨C either you care not for their lives, or you¡¯re hiding how you really feel about it. It should traumatise you.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re a lady, a young lady, a girl who shouldn¡¯t be put into a position like that. How many girls your age do you think could handle that situation and brush it off like it was nothing? Didn¡¯t you feel anything at all when you got home?¡±

    This was bad. I couldn¡¯t hide how little I thought of the lives that I¡¯d taken during those battles. I wouldn¡¯t be a very good assassin if I got hung up on every man or woman I killed, but I¡¯d never once tried to justify that to someone else. The ¡®real¡¯ me that hid beneath the surface was poking out from the fa?ade. There was no delicate way of handling this aside from a blatant lie.

    ¡°It was stressful, but I don¡¯t regret what I did. If you find that discomforting then you can say it to my face. If you want to end this relationship of ours, I will not blame you for making that choice.¡±

    Felipe sat on the bench opposite me and cupped his face with his hands, ¡°I don¡¯t know what I want to hear from you, but I can¡¯t stop thinking about it. The way you callously gunned them down without even stopping to consider it. I never knew that there was a side of you that was that harsh. I even started thinking that you didn¡¯t care about the lives of other people...¡±

    ¡°But?¡±

    ¡°But then I remembered the way that you looked when they attacked the theatre, and how quickly you leapt into action to protect me. A callous person wouldn¡¯t do something like that ¨C they¡¯d do everything to protect themselves first and foremost.¡±

    If only he knew. The only damn reason I¡¯d gotten involved was because of exactly that. I believed that protecting the people around me was my purpose in this new world, a karmic exchange that I had to participate in or face serious consequences. I wasn¡¯t so selfless. Like every bone-picking businessman and self-interested noble, I only acted because I thought I was getting something in exchange.

    ¡°And if I had a selfish reason to protect you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that¡¯s the case.¡±

    He was incorrect, but it was the right kind of thinking for where he was. That benefit was so abstract and hard to grasp that explaining it to him would make me sound like a lunatic. Good karma was not something that a person could quantify, because from most perspectives it would still sound like doing good for good¡¯s sake.

    The philosophy debate was put on pause because Adrian showed up on the scene.

    ¡°Am I interrupting something?¡±

    Felipe was the one person at the top of his list who he hadn¡¯t managed to track down yet. He must have heard he was back at the academy and wandering the grounds. Felipe seemed a little wary of him, unsure of what his intentions were.

    ¡°No, can we help you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to apologise for what my Father did, even though it is not an appropriate compensation for what happened.¡±

    Felipe sighed, ¡°I don¡¯t need an apology from you, Adrian. The entire story played out in court, and your Father admitted that you had nothing to do with it. I believe him when he says that.¡±

    Adrian remained steadfast, ¡°You don¡¯t need to accept it, I will offer it regardless.¡±

    He turned his body towards the floor and bowed before Adrian could stop him.

    ¡°I sincerely apologise for the actions of my family.¡±

    Felipe was forced to reiterate, ¡°I understand that this was your Father¡¯s doing, Adrian. An apology is scarcely needed when the culprit is presently serving his sentence for the crime we speak of.¡±

    Wouldn¡¯t it have just been easier to accept the apology and move on? I supposed that Felipe did not like the idea of having people bow to him for the actions of others. Unfortunately, the reality of the academy was that your family¡¯s reputation was always applied to you whether it was fair or not. Adrian wasn¡¯t given the benefit of the doubt because of his abrasive and volatile attitude. He stood back up and offered another reason.

    ¡°I feel better having said it to you. You were the one who was most likely to be hurt, but you¡¯re the most gracious in listening to an apology.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s done is done. I think we should move on from this ordeal and focus on our studies again.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s face twitched as Felipe brushed a raw nerve. He didn¡¯t say anything, he bowed his head in respect and left us alone once again. Felipe was left confused about why he reacted in such a way.

    ¡°He is the head of the family now. He has a lot more to worry about than studying.¡±

    Felipe groaned and ran a hand through his hair, ¡°You¡¯re right. I forgot.¡±

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    I didn¡¯t have the full picture of what sorts of issues he was in charge of now, but at the least, he had to make big decisions about the direction of the family business. He¡¯d be hiring and firing, managing the books, and generally keeping a close eye on how each individual venture was doing. It was only eased by the fact that the Roderro family was very small and tightly knit, otherwise, he would also have to manage their affairs on top of everything else.

    ¡°I should know better. My Father has been teaching me all about heading up a business since my betrothal to Beatrice, I can¡¯t imagine being thrown into the sea and told to swim like he has.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to be in charge of things when you leave the academy?¡±

    He shook his head, ¡°Not until Sir Booker passes away. When I move in with her, he¡¯s going to let me run some of his business to get a feel for how things work. I¡¯ll assume full responsibility when he¡¯s happy, or Goddess forbid when he dies.¡±

    ¡°He must be pleased with that arrangement.¡±

    ¡°Beatrice told me that he was very worried about the future of the family because they couldn¡¯t sire a son, but he seems to view me as a stand-in for that experience. He revels in it. He¡¯s always happy to see me. She¡¯s starting to worry that he won¡¯t see me as her husband when the time comes.¡±

    The conversation wilted as he remembered why he came here to speak with me in the first place. A sobering realisation that the girl he was getting friendly with killed three dozen people for his sake marred his features.

    ¡°Are you worried about my capacity for violence, Felipe? I won¡¯t blame you if you decide to end our relationship here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s... a little nauseating ¨C but I have to acknowledge that there are many who would see violence as a necessary means to their goals. I start thinking that you did it for my sake alone, and I feel nought but guilt.¡±

    I stood from the bench and made my position clear; ¡°I didn¡¯t do this for you. Whether you wish to accept my motivations or not, I did not do this for you. If we were not friends, I would have done the same thing ¨C because I have a selfish reason to have done so.¡±

    He was taken aback by my bold and confrontational approach.

    ¡°I did not wish to inflict violence on anyone. I hoped that such a course of action would prove needless. I¡¯m afraid that I was incorrect. I¡¯d like you to think about what I¡¯ve said and come to your own conclusion, I cannot force you to abide by my behaviour.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried that I¡¯ll tell somebody?¡±

    I stared him dead in the eye and left him with my last words of wisdom, ¡°There is obscurity in the remarkable. Who is going to believe you if you say that I did it?¡±

    It came off as more threatening than I wanted it to be, but I did not care for the outcome. Felipe would have to make his own choices. I wouldn¡¯t shed a tear if our fledgling friendship was severed at this point. Outside of the occasions where he stopped by during my studies we rarely spent any time together. He was a loose end that I could ignore if that was the case.

    He didn¡¯t say another word as I packed up my books and left. He came to me hoping that he could wash his hands of the guilt he felt. I was sure that this issue would come about again in time. I grumbled to myself as I wandered back in the direction of the dorms. The interruption had caused my brain to expel what I¡¯d read like a flushed toilet. I¡¯d have to go back over what I¡¯d covered again later to remind myself.

    <hr>

    It was a chilly evening in the poor district of Walser¡¯s capital city. The underground heartbeat of the criminal element was alive and well. Police skulked the streets in search of criminals to capture, while those same criminals worked feverishly to get their share of the profits before they were discovered.

    Caius Willow was preening like a prize bird as he awaited the arrival of his latest client. His latest heist was a work of art, a dazzling display of ingenuity and daring that left the authorities shocked and confounded in equal measure. Everyone was so confident that the building was fully secured that he couldn¡¯t take it as anything less than a challenge.

    He held the golden watch aloft and studied the fine inlaid details, inscribed in silver. This was no ordinary watch indeed. It would have fetched a fine price on the black market, and part of him was tempted to blow his client off and sell it on to keep the money, but once the watch was secured that client upped his offer of payment by three times the initial amount.

    She was a sly dog. She knew exactly what Caius was thinking. She tricked him into believing that it was a normal job with a normal payout, only to tip him extra when the time came to hand it over. Caius was happy to go along with it since that offer was higher than what he¡¯d get from his fence, but it aroused his suspicions about the watch. He was in tune with the magical currents that flowed through the air ¨C and the watch was absorbing magic from the air around it to power some kind of mechanism.

    But it was too advanced for him to figure out on his own. Experimenting with an unknown magical item was also a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital with some missing fingers or worse, so he made the wise choice to leave the thing alone and hand it over as planned. A friend of his had already fallen afoul of his curiosity and misplaced a thumb in the aftermath.

    ¡°I do hope that you aren¡¯t planning on doing anything with that,¡± a cutting voice called. Out from the shadows marched an unusually tall woman with round spectacles perched atop a crooked nose.

    ¡°Miss Cordia, I would never dare to do something that breaks the trust between employee and contractor so flagrantly.¡±

    ¡°Aye, but I imagine that you have no qualms with doing so subtly.¡±

    Caius chuckled. She was a unique client for a variety of reasons. Not only for her love of privacy but her nature as a person. Caius rarely saw women stepping into the district for matters like these, and despite her lack of public recognition, he knew for a fact that she possessed the money and influence to pay him well. Was she a new vanguard of the burgeoning upper-middle classes, or a noble from an obscure branch family making a play for influence?

    ¡°I have the watch right here, taken from the premises without harming a single hair on the children¡¯s heads. That is what we agreed to.¡±

    Caius handed the watch to her for inspection. She was familiar with it, from the way that she avoided pressing the buttons, to the manner in which she opened the front and studied the small details to ensure that it was the genuine article. Once she was pleased that it was real and that Caius was not attempting to scam her, she pulled a large wad of bills from her pocket and handed them to the inquisitive thief.

    ¡°I do wonder what is so important about that device that you have need of a thief like me.¡±

    Cordia frowned, ¡°If you knew, you wouldn¡¯t have handed it to me just now.¡±

    Caius shied away and clutched his chest, ¡°Agh! you wound me with that scornful gaze, my lady! And what of the trusting connection we¡¯ve formed? I don¡¯t even know your real name.¡±

    Cordia shrugged, ¡°You¡¯ve hardly been forthcoming with your own identity, Caius ¨C did you not say that confidentiality was a key part of your service?¡±

    She was not going to take part in his games.

    ¡°Apologies. Sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve already surmised that this is no ordinary watch.¡±

    He nodded, ¡°The magical signature it emits is distinct, like the scent of a fine rose. Dare I say ¨C I¡¯ve never sensed a magical item like it.¡±

    ¡°It is one of a kind,¡± Cordia revealed, ¡°There isn¡¯t a man or woman on this continent who could recreate it. I hope you understand my need for discretion, as I would like to keep your services in mind in the future.¡±

    Caius tipped his hat, ¡°Of course. I will refrain from asking needless questions if they make you uncomfortable. I will find my own answers in time, you did not steal it merely to admire the craftsmanship.¡±

    ¡°An astute observation, but I¡¯m afraid that this particular item is insidious in its true function. The only person who knows it has been activated is the user themselves.¡±

    ¡°Interesting! But I would refrain from saying any more before I get too excited. You do want to walk away with the watch still in hand.¡±

    Caius unfurled the notes and started to count through them. It was an astonishing amount of physical cash to have in front of him, and he was a man who didn¡¯t accept cheques.

    ¡°I appreciate your discretion in this matter. There may be more payments like this in the future if you continue to assist us.¡±

    Happy that everything was in order, he slipped the cash into the front pocket of his suit. Another job well done. He resisted the urge to jump into the air and click his heels at the prospect of more jobs that paid this well. He cleared his throat and calmed himself. He always wanted to act his best in front of the ladies ¨C and her crooked nose did little to distract from her natural beauty. A woman like her wouldn¡¯t be involved in something as crude as bare-knuckle boxing, so it must have come from an accident.

    ¡°Part of that payment is for your silence. I don¡¯t want to hear a word of this leaked to anybody else. It¡¯s sensitive information.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were just a generous tipper!¡± Caius laughed boisterously. She did not find it quite as amusing as he did.

    ¡°I mean it. You may be a master of escape ¨C but there are people involved in this process who are much scarier than the likes of me. They will not hesitate to hunt you down like a dog if they discover your duplicity. It won¡¯t matter where you go or how you hide, they will find you.¡±

    Caius blew off her threat with a click of his tongue, ¡°I¡¯ve heard the same threats a million times before ¨C you have my word that I will remain silent, cross my heart and hope to die.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a friendly warning. I don¡¯t particularly agree with those methods, but my compatriots will take matters into their own hands if they see the need. This is a productive business relationship for both of us. I¡¯d hate to see it come to a premature end.¡±

    Caius was not convinced. Every two-bit plotter and criminal thought they could control the flow of information from one person to the next, unaware of the fact that they were often the source of any leaks. Caius boasted knowledge that could make some people very uncomfortable indeed. That was what provided him with the freedom to do as he wanted. There was no dagger sharper than the secrets that men held.

    Cordia was the rational sort, but from the sound of it, her allies were not. Those who believed they existed above common society, hidden in the shadows with the divine right to shape it as they pleased were destined to be humbled. It was impossible to truly fight against the tides of change. The underclasses possessed an increasing amount of sway over politics in Walser ¨C and that came about from their understanding of how they could organise themselves.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Be careful out there,¡± Caius smirked. He took a close look at her features for the last time before spinning around and taking his leave. He was committing the details to his memory for later. He had a distinct feeling that her face and name would be showing up in the papers after getting arrested.

    But before that came to be, Caius intended to gather more information on who he was dealing with. He had met Cordia once before ¨C she was the one who gave him the job, but even then, she made it clear that it was at the behest of someone else. She was a flunky. An errand girl who did the dirty work that nobody else was willing to handle.

    If she was moving back and forth, then it was certain that the information networks he was a part of knew about it. A bit of digging and some money would grease the wheels nicely. Nothing put fear into an employer¡¯s eyes like revealing their true identity at an opportune moment.

    Caius was a happy man when the relationship remained professional. They had a strange perception of what ¡®professional¡¯ meant. Nobody ever taught them that threatening to murder your business partner was in bad taste. He didn¡¯t want to burn his own clients, but some believed that they could take advantage of his lowly position on the criminal ladder, but the structures they built were only as strong as their foundation. The men and women doing the grunt work knew things that would put the untouchables away for a long time.

    If all else failed, Caius had his own dirty tricks that were more personal and pettier than ratting them out to the police. It was easy to plant evidence in a house, and Caius was a very good storyteller. Severing relationships with a piece of strategically placed lingerie was a personal favourite of his. They¡¯d have a hell of a time explaining to their spurned partners that a thief broke into their home and placed it there.

    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one with friends in high places, Madame...¡±

 Chapter 52

    The first week holiday from the academy was coming up, though the significance of it was dampened by the school¡¯s closure thanks to the attempts on Felipe Escobarus¡¯ life. The older students were furiously preparing for practice exams, while the younger students were simply happy to have some time away from studying.

    None more so than Claude.

    Maria¡¯s words of guidance at the start of the term had worked wonders to get him more interested in certain subjects, so long as he could mentally connect them with an aspect of working as a police detective. The robbery of Adrian¡¯s watch had spurred a sudden and deep obsession with botany and flower language. Claude avoided saying anything to Max because he knew he¡¯d be upset with him for focusing on a criminal act again. Max didn¡¯t need to hear it from him anyway.

    Finding a pile of books about a singular topic in Claude¡¯s dorm room was not an unusual sight. Genetics, crime scene investigation, criminal law, so long as he believed that it would help him in his future career as a detective, Claude was heavily invested in studying it. The methodology may have been ludicrous but Max was not going to stop him considering the improvement to his grades.

    Claude sighed theatrically, ¡°Still no news about catching that odd thief yet.¡±

    Max paused eating his lunch for a second with a dissecting eye, ¡°No. No news at all.¡±

    Claude thought he was being subtle, ¡°Man ¨C I sure would love to hear the full story behind that fellow. I went back and read the book again, and he really was copying every bit of his act from it. The outfit, the speeches, the flowers, even the magic he used.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that the police have taken all of that into consideration. They even collected the scraps of his cape to inspect later. They didn¡¯t leave a single piece of evidence behind.¡± Max was hoping that this fact was enough to deter Claude from continuing down this path.

    ¡°I guess. I wonder if there was anything that they missed, or don¡¯t know about.¡±

    His restlessness was evident to Max. He was dying to go and investigate the robbery, even after receiving a gunshot to the waist. It was inevitable that he could not restrain his lust for mystery for long.

    The dam burst seconds later, ¡°Ugh! I really want to track that guy down.¡±

    Max hesitated to slap him around the back of the head in response. ¡°Didn¡¯t you learn a single thing from what happened at the theatre? He¡¯s going to catch you and hurt you. Just sit tight and let the police take care of it.¡±

    ¡°But he was right there, and he even left a clue for us. Don¡¯t tell me that we couldn¡¯t make a start by tracking down where he got that rose from! And I¡¯m curious about that watch too. Adrian was really upset about losing it.¡±

    ¡°There you go accusing people of ill-doing again.¡±

    ¡°I never accused him of doing anything wrong. It was plain to see that the real culprit was the man who stole the watch in the first place.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t what I mean ¨C you¡¯re saying that Adrian is hiding something from us, which implied some kind of malicious intent on his part.¡±

    Claude shrugged, ¡°I think he is hiding something. Why would anyone decide to break into the academy, enter his room specifically, and only steal this supposedly normal gold watch without doing anything else? That watch is more important than he¡¯s letting on. It isn¡¯t an accusation, it¡¯s a deduction.¡±

    Max grabbed his shoulder and held him back before he could run away and start causing mayhem, ¡°And what do you expect us to do about it anyway? Isn¡¯t it better to leave this to the police?¡±

    ¡°We have the chance to really do a good thing here! I¡¯m not asking you to help me arrest the bloke, I want your help to figure out where he¡¯s getting the roses from. We do a little snooping, see if we find anything, then we can forward it to the police and call it a job well done.¡±

    It was true that the police weren¡¯t taking the rose seriously. It was bagged up and taken from the scene for the case file, but it demanded the eye of an experienced botanist to notice the difference between a domestically grown rose and the variety of rose that the thief was fond of. Not to insult their intelligence, but it was an extremely obscure fact, one that only someone like Max would know at a glance. They never got the chance to explain to the police why the rose was significant. The only thing they wanted to hear was a basic description of the theft from their perspective.

    Claude wasn¡¯t going to let it go, ¡°Can you believe that guy? Telling us to ¡®leave it to the professionals,¡¯ why would you discard key evidence like that?¡±

    ¡°People don¡¯t like it when amateurs show up and start telling them how to do their jobs. It doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re in the right, that¡¯s a natural reaction that everyone will have.¡±

    Claude pouted and swung on his chair¡¯s legs. Studying wasn¡¯t interesting to him at the moment, not with the smell of mystery in the air. He could hardly lull himself to sleep in the evenings, because his mind was always racing with new possibilities and theories. The corkboard in his room was quickly engulfed with dozens of pages of notes taken from the books he was reading. The organised chaos made sense to him and only him.

    ¡°Did you know that there was another thief who used the name Caius Willow? Well, it¡¯s more accurate to say that there are a dozen copycat criminals who tried to use his reputation to get an easy ride.¡±

    Max nodded, ¡°Is he a copycat?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know ¨C but it holds a lot of significance to people who care about that sort of thing. If he could get into the academy without being seen, and then escape again, he¡¯s a cut above the average robber you¡¯d find on the street.¡±

    ¡°The police will be aware of that.¡±

    ¡°I know. I just thought it was interesting, everything else about his persona is taken from that book. He was happy to let everybody know what his name was, he must be trying to build a reputation with other criminal elements.¡±

    Max put things into perspective for him, ¡°While that rose is a limited quantity item reserved for high-class boutiques, that still means it¡¯s sent to several different locations during the transportation process. There are no less than six different botanists and flower arrangement services in this city alone, not to mention the logistical process that gets the flowers to each customer.¡±

    ¡°Six isn¡¯t that many.¡±

    ¡°It is when you¡¯re the only person looking into it. Unless you grow six pairs of eyes and ears, it¡¯s unlikely that you¡¯ll run into him through dumb luck. And before you suggest looking into the ledgers to see if any of the flowers were misplaced in transit, most of the managers will strike one or two from the stock and neglect to record them. A few misplaced blue roses hurt the bottom line, but losing them is cheaper than trying to tighten security.¡±

    Claude pouted and slumped back in his seat ¨C the universal signal of having his parade thoroughly rained on. Max was concerned about his friend¡¯s safety and nothing more. Almost losing him in the theatre shooting put a lot of things into stark perspective. These were real threats that could cause real, permanent damage. He didn¡¯t want to imagine the alternative outcome where Samantha failed to stem the bleeding in time.

    He was worried that Claude was portraying this new threat as an oaf, a fool, a clown with whom he could safely spar and play mental games with. There was no such thing as a safe criminal in Max¡¯s eyes, a majority of them possessed an innate capability for violence that stood in opposition to their normal exterior. The man who robbed Adrian was willing to risk his health and freedom, and knew a plethora of spells that he could use to evade capture and do harm.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to do anything stupid. I can¡¯t ditch studying here before the holidays arrive anyway.¡±

    ¡°Are you visiting your Father?¡±

    ¡°Yeah ¨C I¡¯m not going to sit around in the dorms for my week away like a sad sack. I¡¯m feeling a little homesick as well. The time I spent recovering there was mostly sleeping and being confined to my room.¡±

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll swing by and say hello.¡±

    Max and Claude lived close to one another. The Abdah estate was fairly large, but it was also located near a suburban area where middle-class workers and their families lived to get away from the bustle of the city centre. Max¡¯s family preferred to be near the action, and it made commuting to their business interest at the harbour easier too. Max loved getting involved with the local boys and their mischief. He and Claude became inseparable at a young age.

    Even if their parents were none too pleased with the pranks they played.

    Cops and robbers was always Claude¡¯s favourite, even if it only served as a simple game of tag with some roleplaying layered on top. Those were the bits that Claude was the most interested in. He¡¯d even go to the effort of creating a mock jail for the captured crooks to be housed in. Once the game was over ¨C he¡¯d declare them guilty for a variety of misdeeds, both real and imagined, and sentence them to various punishments that were never followed through on.

    ¡°I¡¯m being serious when I tell you to stay out of trouble, Claude. You can¡¯t even run at full speed again yet.¡±

    ¡°I heard you the first time! Are you trying to be my Mum or something?¡±

    ¡°Me and Samantha were worried sick when we found you on the floor with that gunshot injury ¨C we don¡¯t want to see anything like that happening again.¡±

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    Claude paused before launching into an instinctual defence of his behaviour, as he found it so easy to do so at times. Max and Sam had aired genuine feelings of anxiety and shock about what happened to him, so much so that it was as if they were more traumatised than he was. But there was no arguing with the way that they felt. This wasn¡¯t based on reason, and it couldn¡¯t be tied up with a semantic argument that let him have the last word.

    ¡°Ugh. Alright, I¡¯m not going to do anything stupid, just stop giving me those sad puppy eyes for goodness sake. I can hardly handle seeing you act like this all the time.¡±

    Max leaned over to see what Claude was studying, ¡°You ready for the exams?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Me neither.¡±

    <hr>

    It was time for my early morning run around the campus. Even though I was taking a more at-ease approach to things, I still wanted to keep myself in top physical shape in case another incident happened. It was extremely easy for a young girl to lose her stamina and what little strength she had if she slacked off on her schedule. Running and exercising in the mornings was a habit I enjoyed in my old life too.

    The grounds looked amazing when the early morning fog rolled over the hills, and the sounds of wildlife were allowed to flourish without the other students awake to overpower them with chatter. I tightened my running shoes and opened the door to my room at the crack of dawn. Samantha was also an early riser thanks to her life on the farm. Before the theatre shootout, we never spoke with each other at this time of day.

    That changed quickly once she started endeavouring to be my ¡®friend.¡¯

    ¡°Good morning, Maria.¡±

    ¡°And to you as well, Samantha.¡±

    ¡°You can call me Sam ¨C everyone else does!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that my Father would blow a gasket if he heard me using a nickname with someone my age. It¡¯s a difficult habit to switch off.¡±

    Samantha smiled and straightened out her hair. She wasn¡¯t anticipating a trip to the outside of the gardens like me, still wearing her comfortable slippers and silken bedclothes.

    ¡°I was wondering, what is it that you do on these mornings?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s when I exercise.¡±

    Samantha recalled my display of athleticism at the physical exam and made a sound of affirmation, ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re so well-built!¡±

    ¡°Well-built?¡±

    By my standards, I was still a dainty little thing. It was one issue to go from being an adult man to a young girl, but even as young girls went I was on the smaller side. Samantha towered over me and had much broader shoulders. That wasn¡¯t an aspect that people valued in this time period, but I was jealous of how robust she looked.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re still short ¨C but I could tell how much hard work you put into keeping healthy. A lot of the other farm girls I know are the same. We have a look that¡¯s shared between us. It¡¯s the sort of style you only get through hard graft!¡± She lowered her voice and leaned in, ¡°Do you do it because of the... you know, violent stuff?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I responded simply. There was no elaboration needed from my perspective.

    Samantha dug further, ¡°You never told me why you know how to do this stuff.¡±

    ¡°No, that was on purpose.¡±

    Sensing that I wasn¡¯t going to give up the information that easily, Samantha came up with another devious plan. ¡°Would you mind if I tagged along with you during your run?¡±

    ¡°No, so long as you hurry up and get changed.¡±

    Samantha headed back into her room and quickly switched over to some sporty clothes that she usually used for physical education. She locked the door and followed me out into the back garden, copying my movements as I warmed up my arms and legs. She was going to regret trying to keep up with me.

    ¡°How far as you going to go?¡±

    ¡°Too far for you. Just stop when you can¡¯t move anymore.¡±

    ¡°Confident, are we?¡± Samantha smirked. I ignored her and set off running on my usual route. It took us around the greenhouse, down the nature path at the rear of the campus, and through the fountain plaza that rested near the river. From there it was a straight line back up to the building. I repeated the process several times until my legs were crying out for mercy, but I took things slowly so as to not overwhelm Samantha with my pace.

    It was bemusing seeing Samantha¡¯s confidence slowly degrade as we hit the third lap. She was all smiles at the start, but by the second she was panting and sweating, and by the third, I could tell that her legs were starting to move the wrong way without her asking. She furrowed her brow and continued on regardless. She wanted to prove a point by keeping up with me. I wasn¡¯t sure what the benefit of that was. I knew full well that she was unlikely to complete the full routine on her first try.

    She finally gave up the ghost as we passed the fountain, crumbling down onto her knees and sucking up as much air as possible to try and stop the bile building up in her palette. I jogged to a halt and doubled back to make sure that she was okay.

    ¡°I warned you not to push things too hard,¡± I chastised her.

    Samantha waved it off, ¡°Agh. Ha... what the heck, you don¡¯t even look winded.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not. I run ten laps on a good day.¡±

    ¡°T-Ten laps?¡± she squawked, breaking down into a violent coughing fit.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been doing this every other day for years. With enough time and effort, you could do the same thing. Those long legs of yours give more room for improvement than what I can manage.¡±

    I helped her up onto her feet and sat her down on one of the benches. She flopped back and stared at the overcast sky, her chest swelling in rhythm as she replenished her depleted oxygen.

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to scare me off again, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Guilty as charged. I didn¡¯t anticipate you trying to join in on my morning exercise though.¡±

    ¡°I guess I understand how you manage to do all of those incredible things a little better now. You put more effort into this stuff than anybody else.¡±

    It was true that there were a lot of expectations put on me, but it wasn¡¯t fair to assign all of the credit to me alone. I had the benefit of paid tutors, private educators, and the time and money to learn all of those things. Samantha, by contrast, was expected to help out on the family farm when she wasn¡¯t studying feverishly to get into the academy. The only truth to it was that the time you put in was what mattered. Getting that time was the real difference maker.

    It helped that I lived an entire past life on top of that. A girl my age shouldn¡¯t have known these things, not how to kill people and get away with it, not how to blend in with a crowd, and not how to manipulate other people to get their way. In an ideal world, that sort of knowledge wouldn¡¯t be needed at all.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m okay now.¡±

    I decided to call it early and bring Samantha back to the dorm. I could make up for the lost laps tomorrow if I really felt like it. She staggered all the way back, moaning and groaning about how much her legs were aching along the way. A quick trip to the showers and some fresh clothes shut her up, at least until we reached my dorm room again. There was still some time before our first period since we ended early, so I walked over to the magic books Jennings had lent us and picked up from where I left off.

    Samantha sat on the edge of my bed. I could feel her eyes boring into me.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°What we talked about a few days ago. I got to thinking that we could find you another hobby to spend time on!¡±

    My eyes rolled, ¡°If I had a hobby I¡¯d like to pursue, I¡¯d be doing so without your input. And for your information, I¡¯ve been trained in several classical arts like piano, painting, cooking and flower arrangement.¡±

    ¡°You can play the piano?¡± Samantha gasped, ignoring my point.

    ¡°I can. Don¡¯t ask me for a display of skill ¨C it¡¯s been quite a long time since I¡¯ve had the opportunity to practice.¡±

    Like most skills, there were certain fundamentals that you would never forget through sheer repetition and muscle memory. The piano was something that my Father was adamant that I needed to play. It was a traditional noble courtship technique for a young lady to demonstrate her intelligence and deftness through the play of an instrument. As you could imagine ¨C I had zero interest in using my piano playing to woo anyone, romance was the last thing on my mind.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be more than enough to impress a country-bumpkin like me.¡±

    ¡°But it will presumably not be to your taste. The sort of music played at a country harvest festival differs greatly from the classical pieces I was shown.¡±

    ¡°You never know until you try it!¡±

    ¡°I get the feeling that you won¡¯t like it.¡±

    Samantha shook her head, walking over and taking the third book from the pile. Once I was finished with the first, she started working through them in the same order to try and catch up. I was still being frustrated by what was a dogmatic approach to a perfectly inane field of magic. Those select few who used it extensively had certainly generated an odious reputation for nihilist spellcasting.

    The method was what scared people.

    Hitting someone with a ball of flame or a lightning bolt was horrible. It was a death that was painful and lengthy versus the alternatives, but nobody seemed to care so much about that. The prospect of destroying a thing or person on such a fundamental level terrified the writers of these tomes. It elicited images of an act that could not be taken back or repaired, even if the outcome was the same as those other spells. I concluded that a lower-grade mage with a penchant for mayhem could do a lot more damage a lot faster with fire or thunder than I could with nihilism.

    It did offer a distinct utility that no other magic could ¨C it simply came at a high price.

    ¡°With my lessons, studies and exercise, I do not possess much time for any other hobbies.¡± There were no computers in this world, so I could no longer waste away my precious time by binge-reading hundreds of visual novels. I expanded the amount of time dedicated to those other fields to compensate. ¡°And besides, you are not a member of any of the academy¡¯s societies. How can you make an earnest recommendation about one of them?¡±

    ¡°Ah, well ¨C they were a little intimidating at first, so I didn¡¯t have the nerve to join any of them.¡±

    The societies were all boring garbage as far as I was concerned. Shooting, debate, ballroom dance, classical music, flower arrangement, botany, performing arts, the academy offered a wide range of topics that students could choose to fill their free time with. The shooting society was the closest to my area of interest, but they also had strict rules about the age of the participants. I could not join until I was in my third year. Though my history of winning competitions may have given me a way in ¨C academies loved collecting trophies. There was a huge cabinet stuffed full of them in the dining hall.

    They were also concentrated areas of insufferable class privilege. Samantha was not going to say it to me directly, but the reason she was worried about joining one of them was the way that certain students treated her. She must have heard every insult and dismissive comment in the Walman language, laser-focused on her appearance, accent, intelligence and hardiness.

    In closed-off communities like the academy¡¯s societies, it would be even worse. They gathered together some of the most insufferable, entitled and ill-mannered children and injected them with an undeserved sense of accomplishment. The shooting society hadn¡¯t won a trophy for four years, a legendary dry spell in a sport with dozens of large and small tournaments every year. That was part of the reason they were desperate to recruit me, but the bigger issue was that most of them seemed to believe that it was a social club and not one dedicated to a competitive sport.

    ¡°I do hope that nobody is giving you grief for being around me,¡± I said.

    Samantha tensed up, ¡°Some of the girls are pretty darn upset, but it¡¯s nothing I can¡¯t deal with. I don¡¯t get it. It¡¯s not like you can only be friends with so many people.¡±

    ¡°That is not why they¡¯re angry. They see you achieving a goal that they share, but they also see you as an inferior. It enraged them to know that someone ¡®beneath¡¯ them on the social ladder is associated with the great Maria Walston-Carter,¡± I explained with sarcastic venom.

    Samantha giggled at my impression, ¡°I feel a bit of that reputation is rightly earned. You¡¯re everything they say you are ¨C but also a lot humbler than I was anticipating.¡±

    ¡°I can understand why they find me impressive. I¡¯m fully aware of my own accomplishments and talents, but is it so essential to them that they are associated with me? I believe they would find themselves sorely disappointed with the girl who stands behind the proverbial curtain.¡±

    ¡°But what about the-¡±

    ¡°I am speaking under the assumption that they don¡¯t discover my secret as you have,¡± I interjected.

    A bit of that country air returned to Sam¡¯s voice, ¡°That secret being that you¡¯re some kinda¡¯ super-spy sleeper agent who can win a shootout against two dozen folks without breaking a sweat?¡±

    ¡°I never said I didn¡¯t sweat, and I¡¯m not affiliated with any government agency ¨C it¡¯s all self-taught.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed with fresh scepticism but it was one of the few truths I could offer without compromising myself. I was a self-made killer - unless you took the roundabout view that my life¡¯s circumstances, driven in part by government decision-making, led to me being desperate enough to become an assassin. I disagreed with that view.

    I could have just gotten a job at a supermarket if I hated it that much.

    Samantha kicked her legs on top of the bed, ¡°Aw. That was my running theory this whole time.¡±

    ¡°Claude is already enough with his inane theories, please do not join him.¡±

 Chapter 53

    A singularly distinguished gentleman waltzed between the undulating crowds of the downtown jungle.

    Caius Willow was on cloud nine thanks to his most recent endeavour, a robbery most fiendish, under the most challenging circumstances. It came as a surprise that the stiffest resistance he faced came from a girl half his age! But the methodology did not matter in the end. He succeeded in taking what was demanded and delivering it safely to his client.

    Caius did not like getting physical with others. He was a thief ¨C not a brawler or a murderer. That was a line he remained unwilling to cross. He aimed to perform his robberies in pitch-perfect form. Done without witnesses, injury, or evidence left behind, aside from the blue roses he loved to leave behind as a calling card. He couldn¡¯t advertise his services openly, so having a trademark such as that was essential to cultivating new clients.

    The other side of that equation was an information broker named Gertrude. She was a cranky old crone who helped the young orphans on the street earn money through ill deeds. The rapidly expanding middle class of Walser meant that there were more targets than ever to pilfer and rob. Despite that increasing prosperity and wealth, none of it was felt on the bottom layers of society. If anything, their conditions grew worse with each passing year.

    Areas that were once considered safe havens for the poor were being cordoned off by a heavy police presence. Working-class neighbourhoods were being swallowed whole by office-bound professionals who wanted to be close to the heart of the city. Many of them were offered money for their homes, so much money that they couldn¡¯t possibly refuse, fracturing the communities to pieces and coercing those who remained to make the same bargain.

    Gertrude inhabited one of those brick townhouses, which had been converted into a storefront and two pairs of apartments. It was discrete. The butcher¡¯s shop on the bottom floor also served as a convenient excuse for her clients to come and go without arousing too much suspicion. The owner of the shop was one of her previous friends who decided to go straight. He repaid the favour he owed her for those early tips by opening the shop and keeping his mouth closed when the police came asking.

    Caius ducked beneath the low doorway and squeezed past a line of customers who were waiting at the counter. A flight of stairs allowed access to the houses above ¨C but exterior space was so limited that you could only enter them through the shop itself. Both other residents were given a key so they could let themselves in. Caius arrived on the upper floor and knocked thrice.

    ¡°Gertrude, it¡¯s Caius.¡±

    The slot on the door scraped open, revealing a pair of weary eyes. Once Gertrude was sure that it was only him ¨C she proceeded to go through the arduous process of releasing her chains and locks. Caius had told her time and again that they wouldn¡¯t stop the police from knocking it down with a battering ram, but she refused to listen.

    The apartment served as both her office and her home, though the latter interpretation was challenging given the state of the space. What was already a small area divided from a larger, three-story home was taken to the very extreme by her obsessive note-taking. Caius held his half-cape aloft in mockery of a vampire bat. Given that he never wore his full costume to these meetings, it had less of an effect than he would have liked.

    Gertrude was not amused, ¡°Save me the bloody theatrics, Caius.¡±

    Caius laughed and grabbed one of the chairs, squeezing between the towering pillars of paper that dominated every flat surface in the tiny apartment. Gertrude would have his head if he knocked any of them over. If there was one thing she couldn¡¯t stand, it was someone ruining her controlled chaos.

    ¡°How did your last job go? I didn¡¯t get the chance to ask last time you swung by.¡±

    He shrugged, ¡°She already wants me to do another hit.¡±

    Gertrude sighed, ¡°What kind of hit? I hope you didn¡¯t accept the down payment before coming here to speak with me.¡±

    Caius held up his hands, ¡°I can assure you that I have made no promises to the good lady as of yet. She wants me to break into a particular house and retrieve a document that lists collaborators to the Republican alliance.¡±

    ¡°That seems about right. I sent out my feelers for who she was, and what I got back was a little worrying. According to some trustworthy sources ¨C she¡¯s the personal fixer for Claris Rentree. She''s also a representative in the servant''s union, currently contracted to one Lady Franzheim for ''home services.''¡±

    ¡°Claris Rentree? I¡¯m not familiar.¡±

    ¡°Yeah ¨C that¡¯s just how she likes it. She¡¯s a baroness from the south counties, and a major figure in the underground monarchist movement. If her fixer is asking you for information like that it can only mean one thing.¡±

    ¡°Political plotting abounds.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really care how things pan out with the parliament, but I do care about what happens to you. These monarchists are bad bloody clients. They stiff the people who work for them and try to kill them if they know too much. I¡¯ve heard nothing but horror stories since I started looking into them. My advice? Get clear of them while you have the chance.¡±

    Caius crossed his arms. Was the watch theft just a test to see if he could manage? It was magical in nature but how advanced could the internal mechanism really be? A test wouldn¡¯t pay that much. She could have chosen an easier target that closely matched the conditions of her follow-up offer.

    ¡°Oh, and I asked them about the watch too ¨C didn¡¯t get anything back aside from the fact that each head of the Roderro family is given it on succession. Since the kid¡¯s dad ended up in prison, he¡¯s the one who ended up with it. It seems like a closely guarded family secret. So how did Claris find out about it? What was it that made her want the thing?¡±

    ¡°I was hoping that you¡¯d answer those questions for me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m an information broker, not a miracle worker. The Roderros like to run a tight ship and there are less and less of them to leak intel these days. All I¡¯m saying is that they¡¯re keeping you in the dark and at arm¡¯s length. If things go wrong ¨C you¡¯re going to be the one they burn first.¡±

    Gertrude turned down to the paper she was writing onto, dipping her quill into a fresh dosage of black ink. She was always ferrying away at something or other, always busy, never able or willing to keep her hands still for one moment. She was a woman who believed the adage ¡®time is money¡¯ as if it were religious dogma. If she issued a stern warning about how a job wasn¡¯t worth the money, he tended to listen.

    But this time was different.

    ¡°They offered me fifty thousand marks.¡±

    The quill stopped.

    ¡°Fifty thousand?¡± she repeated for clarification.

    ¡°Aye, offered to give me the first half upfront on acceptance.¡±

    ¡°Too good to be true. That¡¯s more money than most people make in a year.¡±

    ¡°I thought the first one was too good to be true, but they still paid out in the end.¡±

    ¡°And what do you want me to say? That I won¡¯t blame you for going through with it? Because I will. I¡¯ll think you¡¯re a right bloody idiot if you jump into that without knowing who you¡¯re dealing with.¡±

    ¡°Money is money.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t turn that canard around on me,¡± Gertrude groaned, ¡°This is sounding more sensitive with every detail you give me. So, it¡¯s a political job to get a party list from the Republicans, issued by a prominent monarchist and her fixer, and they¡¯re offering to pay your bills for a whole year? You may as well hang yourself now and save the police the effort.¡±

    Caius wasn¡¯t interested in her reason, ¡°They¡¯re not going to catch me. I¡¯m not those two-bit petty thieves who try to ride on the reputation of Caius Sr. I¡¯m the real deal. I¡¯ll be in and out so fast that they won¡¯t know who hit them.¡±

    Gertrude scoffed, ¡°Pah. Every criminal who ever got caught thought the exact same thing. I read an interesting journal about criminal psychology recently - it said that the punishment wasn¡¯t what deterred people from committing crimes. It¡¯s all about the odds of getting arrested.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no fool. He didn¡¯t teach me everything he knew just to watch me waste away the prime years of my career picking pockets.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing more valuable to a human being than their life! Everybody makes compromises between their health and their financial security ¨C but this is going too far. You can¡¯t enjoy a single penny of that money if you die in the process of earning it. How many hot-headed lads do you think come through those doors saying the exact same bloody thing? Their names and faces turn up in the obituaries a few days later.¡±

    Caius closed his eyes and exhaled. He knew she was going to react badly to hearing the news, but it was no less distressing for her to launch into a desperate tirade to try and stop him. His reasons were deeper than just financial security. It was a literal matter of life and death.

    ¡°I have to take the money. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Gertrude leapt out of her chair and pursued him through the room, ¡°Wait a damn second Caius! I¡¯m seriously warning you about this! Why are you choosing now of all times to be a stubborn pig about it?¡±

    ¡°There are some things that even you don¡¯t know, Gertrude.¡±

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    ¡°I don¡¯t care what your reasoning is. This is way too deep for you, you¡¯re going to drown down there. Is that money really worth taking a gamble on your life?¡±

    Caius wouldn¡¯t heed a word she said. He continued to ignore her cries of protest even as they descended the steps and moved through the butcher¡¯s shop. The staff and customers were befuddled by the argument that was simmering between the pair. She hovered by the front door of the shop, not wanting to leave her door open and unattended.

    ¡°Because if the monarchists don¡¯t kill you, the Republicans will! You¡¯re the little guy on the bottom! Those gears are going to keep turning, and you¡¯re going to be the one caught between the cogs!¡± Gertrude roared, her voice cracking and fraying.

    Caius didn¡¯t need to hear it. He understood perfectly well that he was taking an immense risk. What Gertrude revealed was not enough to deter him from this course of action. Those who refused to gamble would continue to wallow in their squalor. One did not ascend to the heights of upper society without putting everything on the line. To him, there was no difference between staying away and failure. They would both mean the same undesirable outcome.

    Jobs that paid this much only came around once in a blue moon, and they always went to other people instead of him. Caius was not going to pass up the opportunity when it finally arrived.

    Gertrude slammed her hand against the doorframe and clenched her teeth, ¡°Bloody idiot!¡± She turned to the bewildered customers and stormed back through the shop to her apartment. Had everyone lost their minds? Nobody was willing to listen to her advice anymore! She turned on her kettle and stewed in the kitchen, looking out of the window and onto the alleyway behind the building.

    ¡°Idiot. Idiot. Idiot,¡± she chanted. She paced back and forth but found no comfort in doing so. She briefly considered breaking one of her golden rules and stepping in, but that would bring greater consequences than she could predict. Confidentiality was the creed by which she earned trust and spread her roots into boardrooms and manors across the nation.

    Caius would regret his hastiness.

    <hr>

    The week break was finally upon us. Samantha and I were both heading home for that period, with Sam being more than a little homesick after spending so long at the academy. I didn¡¯t care so much ¨C but it was an opportunity to clear my head and catch up with what was happening at the estate. Sam left me with a declarative statement that she¡¯d find something ¡®fun¡¯ for both of us to do.

    Doubtful.

    My Father wasn¡¯t home for the first day, having been held back on a business trip, but he returned early the following morning. The carriage rode into the driveway and he eagerly entered the main reception with a tired groan and a crack of his spine. The servants soon followed with his luggage in hand, shuffling past us and taking them upstairs to be unpacked.

    ¡°Goddess above. I thought those meetings would never end.¡±

    ¡°Welcome home, Father.¡±

    Damian smiled, ¡°It¡¯s lovely to see you again, dear. Just the thing I need after such a frustrating experience.¡±

    ¡°Was it that bad?¡± I inquired.

    He chuckled, ¡°You don¡¯t have the faintest idea. At this point, I feel as if they are doing it to spite me. I hoped that my new managers would be able to handle it, but it seems that my faith was misplaced. Hopefully they get up to speed, and soon.¡±

    The very first thing he decided to do, aside from getting his fill of seeing his beloved daughter, was to check the pile of mail that had grown on the table by the door. He took the bundle of letters into his arms and followed me into the sitting room. I observed him cracking each one open and quickly scanning their contents in turn.

    ¡°Hm. Nothing interesting.¡±

    That was until he reached the bottom of the pile. His brow raised as he read out the name on the letter, ¡°Clemens...¡±

    ¡°Uncle Clemens?¡±

    My Father nodded and read some of the text, ¡°He¡¯s been promoted to a senior position in the party, and he¡¯s invited us over to join a celebration at his house.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen Uncle Clemens in some time.¡±

    ¡°Ah, he¡¯s very eager to catch up with his favourite niece.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m his only niece,¡± I responded dryly.

    ¡°If there was competition, I¡¯m sure you¡¯d still hold the position.¡±

    Clemens was the younger brother, and at thirty-four he¡¯d yet to settle on a partner or have any children. It was a rare sight for a man of distinction to be single for so long. There was no doubt that he received plenty of offers for marriage from other families - and he was under no pressure to land a significant tie with them. It was only for his benefit, as I was the heir to the main branch. Perhaps he was awaiting the arrival of a woman who loved wooden furniture with the same zeal that he did.

    ¡°It would be rude to reject his invitation now.¡±

    This sounded like another ¡®flag.¡¯

    Clemens was not a character from the visual novels, he was exclusive to this reality I was living. I couldn¡¯t expect every single person to appear in a game primarily focused on romance ¨C but these circumstances made my hair stand on end. The robbery at the academy and this event were coming one after the other. Was karma teeing up another crisis for me to solve?

    He was heavily involved in the Walser Liberal-Democratic Party, one of the key lynchpins that held the ruling Republican coalition together. Versus some of their partners, they were considered to be a conservative force, though it was hard to appear far-left when you were standing with the Worker¡¯s Party.

    Politics in Walser was strange. Some of the Monarchist factions were more liberal than the Republicans. With Republicanism the defining issue of the era, many unlikely alliances were being formed to cement what political institution would win control for the foreseeable future. The specifics didn¡¯t matter. What did matter was that this question of monarchism versus democracy was one with a lot of bad blood behind it. The country nearly collapsed into total civil war a few years before my ¡®birth.¡¯

    It was the perfect environment for an unfortunate incident. On the upside, I personally knew the layout of his home, so I didn¡¯t need to submit myself to any special preparations on that front.

    ¡°What position was he promoted to?¡±

    ¡°It says here that he¡¯s now the vice-chair of the party¡¯s leadership council. Why do I get the feeling that they¡¯re making these positions up just to keep the members happy?¡±

    Damian was only interested in politics insofar as he could complain about them during breakfast and ignore them for the rest of the day. He never went any further than reading the headlines and reaching fast conclusions on whether he hated them or not.

    ¡°It will be nice to see Uncle Clemens again.¡±

    He looked uncertain about that. The parties for adult occasions had a poor tendency to get rowdy as the alcohol started to flow. Clemens loved drinking almost as much as he loved a good antique chair. One of my most vivid memories of him was a previous engagement where he drank so much that Damian had to drag him upstairs into the bathroom so that he could empty his stomach.

    ¡°Well, as I said ¨C it would be rude to refuse to visit on such an important occasion. I¡¯ll send a reply and tell him that we will attend. It¡¯s happening soon. Luckily I wasn¡¯t held back for any longer than one day!¡± Damian wandered off to find a blank piece of paper and a quill with which to pen his reply. I heard his voice calling out for his personal attendant to assist him.

    The head maid stepped in to speak with me, ¡°The Master has been worried sick about you since he heard the news. It was the only thing he wanted to talk about for days after it happened.¡±

    ¡°There is no need to tell me, Margaret ¨C I am well aware of the ways in which he conceals his real feelings from me. He must project an ever-vigilant image of strength for the sake of the family.¡±

    She smiled, ¡°I was worried that you¡¯d think of him as a cold Father since he did not possess the time to personally visit the academy and see if the arrangements were to his liking. There were vigorous letters of complaint exchanged between him and the headmaster.¡±

    It was easy to know the true nature of a person after spending years living with them. Damian Walston-Carter was the archetypal noble family man, steering the great ship he called home with a fixation on tradition and attainment. There were a lot of things that were expected of him, but being caring was not one of them. Noble men showing any signs of weakness was considered poor form, partly due to a history of those weaknesses being exploited and partly because many of them were extremely conservative.

    Adrian¡¯s Father was what most people expected. A conniving, insecure man who projected his failed ambitions onto his child without asking for his opinion. Most never went to the extremes that he did, but in the decades before the formation of the republic, it was more common to see that kind of behaviour.

    In the grand scheme of Father figures among the noble class ¨C Damian was one of the best, though perhaps he gave me too much room to do as I pleased. If I were a normal girl my age I¡¯d question the wisdom of him caving to my every demand. He simply could not refuse a request when it came from me. How else would I have gotten permission to participate in those shooting competitions?

    Damian returned to the sitting room with his quill and parchment. I did not understand the need to send a reply given how soon the party was supposed to be occurring, but etiquette was always on his mind. He sat down by the table and started to compose the letter.

    ¡°Is there anything you wish to speak to me about, Maria?¡± he asked, ¡°You were involved in both incidents with the Roderro family.¡±

    I decided to toe a fine line between expressing fear and assuring him that he did not have to worry about me. ¡®Maria¡¯ was composed and mature, but even mature people would be placed under significant stress in those scenarios. I was a teenage girl and sometimes I had to remind myself of that fact.

    ¡°It was rather terrifying ¨C luckily I managed to escape to a safe room on both occasions. The sound of the fighting was calamitous.¡±

    That was good enough for him, ¡°If you ever want to speak with me, I¡¯m always here for you, and don¡¯t be afraid to send me a letter if I¡¯m not available in person either.¡±

    ¡°I will keep that in mind in future.¡±

    It only took him a few minutes to finish his writing. The letter was folded, placed into an envelope and stamped with a wax seal that bore the family crest. Margaret was already waiting by the desk to accept it from him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll mail this for you, sir.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Margaret.¡±

    She tottered off to find another servant to delegate the task to. My Father, now happy that the important business was taken care of, turned his full attention to me. There was a moment of silence as he studied the way I was standing in front of him. I double-checked my posture to make sure that I wasn¡¯t missing something important. Relief flooded my system when he smiled.

    ¡°You are looking like a fine adult lady already, Maria. Have your lessons been going well?¡±

    ¡°They have. I¡¯ve been dedicating myself to my studies.¡±

    ¡°I heard that you were assessed as a grade five mage during the opening exam. I always knew that you had a knack for magic! You¡¯ll do the family proud, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, our lessons were disrupted by the incidents at the party and theatre, Felipe Escobarus was our senior tutor.¡±

    ¡°Is that so? I was not aware that his son was a firm hand with the field.¡±

    ¡°He is. He¡¯s a very talented teacher as well.¡±

    The pleasantries went on for the next hour and he drilled down into the events at both the assassination attempts and the individual classes that I was taking. I got the distinct sense that he was feeling out how things were going at the academy and how I¡¯d adjusted to them. It came to a surprising conclusion, stated out of the blue.

    ¡°This Samantha girl sounds like a good friend. I was wondering why you gave off such a different air to what you usually do, but now I know.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    He chuckled, ¡°You¡¯ve never been interested in having friends. It was always the aspect of your personality that worried me the most. The nobles can be a heartless lot, and a good friend only comes around so often.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that we¡¯re friends, not yet.¡±

    ¡°To me, it sounds as if you¡¯re friends in everything but name. Choose them well. There are many who see a relationship with a noble as nothing more than a transactional one.¡±

    He had a strange idea in his head now about me and Samantha. There was no hope in trying to deny his allegations now. His mind was firmly set on her and me being best friends. It made sense. He wanted what was best for his darling little girl, and becoming more social was a sign that I was ¡®growing up¡¯ and breaking out of my shell.

    ¡°And you say she comes from a farming family further north? Interesting. I did not realise that the academy was admitting people from rural backgrounds.¡±

    ¡°She receives no end of backhanded comments for it, but the way she ignores their pointed words tends to frustrate them greatly. That anger grows fiercer when she outscores them in our mock tests.¡±

    Damian laughed boisterously, ¡°They would do well to learn a lesson in humility then. The Academy may have a reputation for housing the spoiled children of careless nobles, but it is one of the few places where your ability is measured against your peers in a forthright manner.¡±

    With that said ¨C it was entirely possible to butter up or bribe one of the teachers, I just hadn¡¯t seen anyone try it yet.

    ¡°Whatever you say, Father.¡±

 Chapter 54

    Two days later and I was wearing my Sunday best for a visit to Uncle Clemens¡¯s home. He lived fairly close to our own manor ¨C so it was a short trip in the carriage down the road and across the creek. It was a comparatively modest home versus ours, but still so large that he needed to hire helping hands to maintain the gardens.

    I thought his house was nicer than ours, given that it was only my Father and me living inside of it full-time, the extra space felt wasteful. Comfort wasn¡¯t what mattered to most nobles, it was all about how valuable the property was. It was the best way to show one¡¯s affluence and business acumen in a world yet to develop overly expensive cars.

    Clemens liked his privacy. The exterior of the estate was surrounded by a dense wall of foliage designed to keep prying eyes from looking inside. It was easy to do when your house wasn¡¯t perched atop the tallest hill in the area for the sole purpose of showing off in the noble dick-measuring contest.

    The sounds of the garden party could already be heard as we stepped out onto the driveway and found ourselves escorted through the building. Clemens had gone to a significant effort to make sure that everything was picture perfect for his guests, including opening the doors into the house so that people could get out of the heat if they so desired.

    The gardens were teeming with dozens of luminaries from the Republican alliance, members of his own party and others, who had come together to both celebrate Clemens¡¯ new position as vice chairman and to strategize for the upcoming elections. There was a lot riding on this, the future direction of Walser would be decided in a few months.

    Tables filled with expensive food and drink surrounded the back-patio area, while more seating was placed on the grass. A lively game of croquet was taking place between several partygoers. Clemens was introducing himself to a group of people near the food. His attention was snatched away when he spotted me observing from a distance. He excused himself and turned to face us.

    ¡°It¡¯s so lovely to see you, Maria! And what a wonderful young woman you¡¯re turning into as well!¡± Clemens cheered from behind the serving table.

    He navigated around the side and approached me and my Father with a bright grin on his features. He¡¯d already swallowed a few drinks judging from the colour of his cheeks. He studied my appearance. It had been almost a year since we had the opportunity to meet in person.

    ¡°Hah. She¡¯s growing up so fast now, isn¡¯t she? She¡¯ll be the spitting image of Gwyneth soon.¡±

    Damian laughed, ¡°That she is. Sometimes I wonder if there¡¯s any of me in there.¡±

    There was no awkwardness to his mention of my absent Mother. Damian and Clemens had a very close relationship. Noble brothers were always at each other¡¯s throats ¨C fighting over inheritance and fuelled by envy, but Clemens was more accepting of his place in the family hierarchy. He was the younger brother, and thus he sought to distinguish himself in another field.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad that you could both make it. I heard that your trip was extended by a day.¡±

    Damian tipped his brimmed hat, ¡°We could hardly afford to miss a celebration for an important moment like this. You were there for my wedding, even when circumstances attempted to keep you away.¡±

    ¡°Well, I received the promotion a few weeks ago ¨C but I wanted to make sure that everyone had the chance to clear the date so they could drop by and visit. I¡¯ve been working my fingers to the bone making sure that we¡¯re ready for the parliamentary election.¡±

    Perhaps not the ideal time to throw a complicated party, then.

    Clemens escorted us to a shaded gazebo, where we all sat down to have a chat about recent events. I should have known that the first thing to come up would be the attack on the theatre.

    ¡°I heard that Cathdra launched his scheme during your trip to the parliament building. Did everything turn out okay?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Thankfully, none of the students were hurt. Though it was extremely alarming to be there while it was happening,¡± I lied.

    ¡°I was never a big believer in the fellow ¨C but to do something as dastardly as that is beyond the pale. Dare I say that his career in politics is well and truly over? There isn¡¯t a party mad enough to plant their banner by his side now, but some of the MPs are worried about him launching an independent bid once he leaves prison.¡±

    Damian shook his head, ¡°Surely not.¡±

    ¡°I agree. The criminal element is too much of a weight for the voters, he¡¯d have no chance of victory, but stranger things have happened before.¡±

    I tuned out of the conversation and observed the party from our elevated position. Clemens couldn¡¯t pass up such a perfect opportunity to utilise his large collection of antique chairs. The less valuable pieces of his collection were positioned around the tables in the garden.

    Those bloody chairs.

    Clemens was obsessed with them. An entire storehouse on the property was dedicated to the presentation and assembly of as many chairs as humanly possible. They came in all shapes, sizes and colours, constructed from every type of wood and metal that you could think of. There was no person on this planet that loved chairs quite like he did. The man could easily talk for an hour about each one while going down to the most minute details.

    I did not care for the stitching of the pillows, the welding of the beams, or the curvature of the structures. Chairs were the most dreadfully boring topic to dedicate oneself to, yet here Clemens was, extolling the virtues of what was an extremely mundane subject. It didn¡¯t matter how old you were, an eleven-year-old Maria was a target for his knowledge regardless of her interest.

    When my ears returned to the discussion he and Damian were having, I was not pleased to discover that he was talking about antique hunting again.

    ¡°I found this lovely bed frame from Chatmar last week, but the owner of the shop was asking for an extortionate price. That kind of timber doesn¡¯t go for that kind of money. I told him that ¨C but he insisted that he had lots of other customers waiting who were willing to buy it. I called his bluff and left it, and what do you know, a few days later is was being discounted due to a lack of interest.¡±

    Just kill me now.

    Damian gave me a sideways glance that was a combination of permission to wander off somewhere else and a desperate plea for help. In my endless experience of two different lives I¡¯d never found a method to stop Clemens from talking once he got fired up. A bomb could detonate a few feet away and he wouldn¡¯t stop speaking unless he was the one caught in the blast.

    I slipped away from Clemens and Damian. There was no reason to stick around when he was already launching into a discussion about antique hunting. I was planning on finding a quiet spot to sit and enjoy the weather, but my reputation precedes me. Several of the girls who were around my age descended upon my location like a pack of vultures.

    ¡°Are you Lady Maria?¡± the head girl asked with a hopeful look.

    ¡°I am.¡±

    The other girls gasped in awe at the sight of me, even though I was shorter than every single one of them. It was amazing how much mileage one could get out of having a pretty face in this world.

    ¡°I knew it. I told you that it was really her!¡±

    A heavyset lass with ginger pigtails stewed at her, ¡°I never said it couldn¡¯t be Lady Maria! Of course it might have been her. This is a party hosted by her uncle.¡±

    ¡°Whatever ¨C you were the one who kept saying that it wasn¡¯t her.¡±

    ¡°I did not!¡±

    The third member of the troupe smiled nervously and attempted to steer the conversation back on track, ¡°There¡¯s no need to argue in front of her. I¡¯m sure that she finds it extremely distasteful.¡±

    She would be right. It was annoying to be stopped by a group of people so that they could argue in front of me. I gave them a second chance, wherein all three girls reassembled and started to follow through with their original plan.

    The leader of the gang fluffed out her golden locks of hair and declared her name for my memorisation, ¡°I am Pricilla Wells. Surely you¡¯ve heard of my family?¡±

    ¡°I have,¡± I responded. Their business was waste management. Not glamorous work by any means, but it did pay very well in the urban areas of the country where capacity was always being expanded. Two members of the family were sitting MPs. Pricilla was a total stranger. Noble families liked to pump out as many potential heirs as possible to prevent a disaster from occurring. She was just another drop in the ocean.

    The larger girl was next, but she kept it short and simple, ¡°Betty Jones.¡±

    And the shy girl, ¡°I¡¯m... Penelope Van Seaham.¡±

    Pricilla was clearly trying to pick a fight with me for ojou-sama dominance. She had the look ¨C with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. The only issue for her was that it was a game that demanded the participation of two players, and I couldn¡¯t care less about what she thought.

    ¡°Hmph. I have to admit that your beauty is no exaggeration, but your dress selection leaves much to be desired. I suggest firing your tailor with immediate effect.¡±

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°I do not have a tailor.¡±

    The goalposts shifted, ¡°We can tell! Didn¡¯t you hear that yellow is in season? Who do you think you are wearing a white lace dress in this weather?¡±

    I stared at her.

    Penelope frowned, ¡°I don¡¯t think she cares very much...¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Pricilla snapped back, ¡°There isn¡¯t a noble lady in the world who doesn¡¯t care about the way that she looks. I¡¯m starting to think that you allow your Father to choose your outfits for you. Only an out-of-touch man could create an ensemble this odious to the senses.¡±

    I stared at her, silently.

    ¡°She¡¯s ignoring you,¡± Betty offered unhelpfully.

    ¡°I can see that! You¡¯re not fooling me with this stupid little game, are you going to stand there and make that stupefied face this whole time? Say something!¡±

    Well, if she didn¡¯t want me to stand here, what else was there to do but make my exit?

    With my first idea of heading into the garden to find a quiet spot scuppered, I turned around and headed back towards the house. Pricilla didn¡¯t get the memo and continued to yell vague insults at me even as I was leaving the range of her voice. Any louder and an adult will have told her to zip it.

    The house wasn¡¯t my first choice because it made me look like an even bigger loner than I was already. There would be no shortage of tutting tongues or pointed questions about how a young socialite could get by without socialising. I ducked away from the noise and stepped into the foyer. The shade was nice. I could wave them away and say that I was looking to cool down a little.

    Parties really weren¡¯t my thing.

    Caius couldn¡¯t believe his luck, it had taken days of hard work, observing the preparations being made at the property and sneaking around the edge of the gardens for an entryway, but he¡¯d done it. He¡¯d snuck into the house without anyone seeing and pilfered a spare uniform from the staff quarters. To make things even better ¨C it seemed as if none of the temporary servants were fully aware of the others. He could blend in and explore as he pleased.

    It was an appropriately risky job for the money that he was being offered. Caius was never under the illusion that this was going to be an easy task, Gertrude¡¯s warnings were not completely wasted on him. This was a densely populated area with a lot of important people. A single wrong step could end in his arrest.

    What kept him going was something that none of the guards could account for. Unlike them, he had a strong reason to keep going. His strength of will would win the day.

    Most of the guests were occupied in the back garden, enjoying the party that Clemens Walston-Carter was hosting due to his recent promotion within the Liberal Democratic party. That promotion was the same reason that he found himself infiltrating the grounds. Word had leaked that he possessed several sensitive party documents in his study. The client was tight-lipped on how they obtained that information, but it was likely that a monarchist who worked for Clemens was the one responsible.

    It didn¡¯t make a lick of difference to Caius who won the spat. Despite all of the big promises made by the Republicans, things were still the same as they were before the fighting started. The compromise wasn¡¯t much of a compromise when it existed to cement the existing power blocs that ruled the country, people like Clemens and his glad-handing politician partners. They were Republicans because it was convenient for them and nothing more.

    Caius restrained his feelings. There was no good reason for him to let his blood simmer with rage because they were having a good time. He couldn¡¯t blame them for enjoying the high life. If he had the same kind of money that they did, he¡¯d be in their place ¨C standing with a glass of wine in one hand and a bland sandwich in the other.

    All he wanted to do was to scout out the party and see how many people were around. Most of the guests were from the party, but there were also wives and children in a large number. His eyes drifted across the sea of heads until they landed on the gazebo at the back of the garden.

    ¡°Bloody hell.¡±

    Caius dived behind the nearest pillar, his breath hitching. Why, of all people, was that girl here? He peered around the edge of his hiding place and observed the trio of people standing under the gazebo. That was Clemens Walston-Carter and his brother. With all of them together like this, it was easy for him to conclude that the three were related.

    Caius was not overly familiar with the Walston-Carter family. All he knew was that the larger man was the owner of the house and the vice chairman of the Liberal Democratic party. That new job of his was why Caius was sent to the party. There was an important document that his employers wanted to be taken from his office.

    There was no need to get any closer to them. Caius walked away from the main party and slipped into the house to begin his search for the target. The client didn¡¯t give him much information to go on, so it was a manual search through every room in the house until he found what he was looking for.

    Or it would have been, had he not been intercepted on the way to the private area by a meddling manager. She appeared out of the blue and forced a silver tray covered with wine glasses into his hand.

    ¡°Can you please take these out to the garden?¡±

    The woman was in such a hurry to attend to her duties that she didn¡¯t stop to take a second glance. All she needed to see was that Caius was wearing one of the staff uniforms, her mind was on autopilot from there.

    ¡°Uh, sure.¡±

    Caius remained still as she disappeared down the corridor. To his frustration, it was the path that he wanted to follow. He couldn¡¯t chase after her without arousing unneeded suspicion. Blending in was his first priority. He swallowed his pride and turned back to the garden party, intending to offload the tray at his earliest convenience and return to the search.

    Caius put on his most confident fa?ade and waltzed out onto the patio. There were empty glasses galore, the perfect cover to make himself look busy. He dashed from group to group, swapping dry drinks for fresh ones and receiving plenty of thanks in return. Caius wondered why he was even worried about it. The platter was emptying faster than expected.

    Once the wine was doled out to the boozing revellers he returned to the drawing room and placed the tray down on one of the tables. That would keep the manager from asking too many questions for a while. Caius smirked and headed back to the hallway where he was planning on starting his search.

    The problem was that another servant was already waiting to ambush him with a platter of sandwiches. There was no time to dodge out of the way before it was forced into his hands.

    ¡°Perfect timing. I need someone to take these out to the catering table.¡±

    Caius had to stop himself from screaming in frustration. He nodded and moved as quickly as he could without spilling them all over the floor. All he had to do was leave them on one of the tables and go back to what he was doing. There was just one problem, between entering the house and heading back to the sitting room at the rear, the red-eyed girl had moved locations and was now sitting on one of the couches.

    A bead of cold sweat ran down the back of his neck. Her head locked onto him, and those damnable eyes scrutinised every detail of his form and appearance. He ignored the girl for the time being and powered on in the hopes that looking busy would prevent her from becoming suspicious.

    The sandwiches landed on the table with a clatter. He carefully timed his emergence from the house to avoid the majority of the party-goers, who would undoubtedly ask him to perform more menial tasks like bringing more booze, wiping their arse or clipping their overgrown toenails. There was no bottom with these nobles, if they could pay someone else to do something, they would.

    Caius returned to the sitting room and felt every muscle in his body pull taut. The girl was staring right at him with an impassive expression. Her indifference lulled him into a sense of security. Surely there was no way that she would recognise him now that he wasn¡¯t wearing his mask and costume.

    It wasn¡¯t the girl who was the problem. She was fast and unusually strong, but his evasive strategies were more than enough to cover that eventuality. The real issue was that she could scream at the top of her lungs about a thief being in the house. His showy magic wouldn¡¯t help if he was dogpiled by a dozen plus people and pinned to the floor.

    She made no motion to alert the other guests. Caius breathed a sigh of relief and turned his back to her, intent on reaching the promised land beyond the hallway of meddling middle managers. Nobody else was there, so he ploughed on with confidence. Hopefully, it wouldn¡¯t take too long to find the owner¡¯s office and abscond with the documents.

    What he didn¡¯t see was that young lady trailing him from behind.

    Caius, in blissful ignorance, danced from door to door and peered through the keyholes in search of the office. His due diligence was not enough to keep Maria off of his tail, who unbeknownst to him had identified him as the thief upon first glance, and remained at her place in the lounge so that she could intercept him.

    ¡°Jackpot,¡± Caius whispered. He pulled out a pair of small metal tools and fiddled with the lock until it clicked open.

    ¡°Argh!¡±

    He then squealed like a girl when he felt a firm hand push his back from behind, forcing him through the door and onto his hands and knees. The door slammed shut, and a firm grip was placed on the back of his neck, along with a sharp knee into his spine.

    ¡°Do you take me for some kind of fool? That mask of yours barely hid the bottom of your face. I knew it was you from the moment our eyes met back there.¡±

    ¡°Rubbish. I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about!¡±

    ¡°Is that so? It would take me very little effort to retrieve those illegal entry devices of yours and turn you over to the nearest security guard. Who do you think they¡¯re going to believe?¡± Caius was pulled back to his feet and pushed towards the wooden desk. He finally came face-to-face with his nemesis ¡ª a girl who was half his age and half his size.

    He put on his smarmiest smile and tried to bluff his way out of it, ¡°I think you¡¯ve got the wrong lad, my good lady. I¡¯m just an honest servant, checking on the Master¡¯s private quarters to make sure nothing untoward is going on.¡±

    ¡°Who are you trying to convince with this? I know it¡¯s you, Caius.¡±

    His body slumped down, ¡°Shit.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re here at the party, and trying to break into Clemens¡¯ office, that can only mean that you¡¯re here for one thing. You¡¯re after the documentation for the Liberal Democrats¡¯ election campaign.¡±

    ¡°A very lucid observation,¡± Caius admitted, ¡°You must have a keen mind to know that at your age.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t allow you to do that.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know kids were into politics these days.¡±

    ¡°Only when they have a chance of causing a lot of trouble. Do you really think that the apolitical will be spared the consequences of what you¡¯re about to do? Letting anyone get their hands on that list is bad news, for you, for my family, for the Republic as a whole.¡±

    Caius shrugged, ¡°Says who?¡±

    ¡°Says me. They¡¯re not going to use those names and addresses to put together a calling list, I hope you¡¯re aware of that.¡±

    Caius was shocked at the depths of her knowledge. She didn¡¯t speak like a coddled little girl, she was fully aware of the intricacies of what was happening. She was trying to protect her personal interests in a roundabout way.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what happens to that lot. It doesn''t make a lick of difference to people like me.¡±

    ¡°Does it not? If they achieve that goal and plunge this country into anarchy, who do you think will be the first ones given a gun and told to fight on the front lines? It certainly won¡¯t be the nobles. ¡®People like you¡¯ are expendable resources ¨C you know that already. You¡¯ll be killed en masse to protect the class interests of the rich and powerful.¡±

    Caius was torn. There was some truth to what she was saying. Caius¡¯ Grandfather was killed in the fighting before the Compromise was signed. It was an event that greatly impacted his family for three generations running. But he couldn¡¯t accept it coming from the mouth of one of the people responsible. This girl was a noble ¨C the very class of parasites that were responsible for using them as pawns. Why was she the one making such a reflexive argument?

    His gut told him to ignore what she was saying.

    ¡°What difference does it make? These lot are probably going to fumble it anyway ¨C and I¡¯ll get paid for something that doesn¡¯t affect anyone.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t guarantee that.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t guarantee anything in this life. You can only do what seems right to you in the moment. I have a good reason to follow through with this plan. I¡¯ll get my money, just like you do, and move on with my life. I¡¯ll never hear from them again.¡±

    The girl laughed right in his face, it was an obnoxious cackle that rose and fell in an undulating crescendo.

    ¡°Oh dear. If that¡¯s the way you think, perhaps it would be better to expedite the outcome by killing yourself first. You¡¯re nothing more than a loose end. This is just as dangerous for you as it is for them.¡±

    ¡°Just stay out of my way, lass. I won¡¯t touch a hair on your head if you do.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that isn¡¯t going to happen.¡±

    Caius grimaced. She was getting ready for a fight. He didn¡¯t want to do anything to a young girl, but if she was insistent on getting in his way, there wasn¡¯t a choice to be made. There was too much on the line to give up now.

    ¡°Fine, but don¡¯t cry when you lose. I hate to see a pretty face covered in tears.¡±

 Chapter 55

    The balls on this man to try this again.

    I had to admit the gumption was almost admirable. He¡¯d just finished sneaking into one of the most heavily guarded locations in the country and slipped away with a valuable item, in comparison Clemens¡¯ party was a walk in the park. But he saw me immediately upon entering the sitting room, and not for one second did he elect to turn back and make a run for it.

    I kicked off my shoes and squared up. He was hesitant to get into a fight with a teenage girl ¨C which was fine by me. It would give me the chance to land the first blow and tip this fight irreparably in my direction.

    The Monarchists were not popular revolutionaries, they were nobles who preferred to crystallise the power they wielded through the old system rather than the new one. There would be no public hangings or beheadings if they got their way. They were rich people who weaponised the common folk¡¯s desire for something familiar and comforting.

    Caius had another reason to do this.

    Money makes the world go around. It was no exception here in Walser. Healthcare, housing, and food ¨C they were all things that every living person needed eventually. It was easy to make someone betray their ¡®class interest¡¯ by offering them a big payout. Most people didn¡¯t read political theory, they didn¡¯t understand the long-term consequences of their actions. Caius only understood that people in his situation were his friends to some extent. The need for cash was always more pressing than making some political point.

    It wasn¡¯t selfish unless he intended to spend his payment on fast cars and a fancy house. The problem was that he was dealing with a group of untrustworthy plotters, who would not be eager to leave an obvious loose end dangling like Caius. He was risking a lot more than his freedom by being here. He was not taking my warnings seriously ¨C nor did he take my stance seriously. He rolled his eyes and scoffed at the idea of me boxing him.

    He was about to learn a painful lesson about underestimating me.

    Raw strength was never going to be an advantage I held in this body. After my fights with Prier, I realised that a new approach would be needed for hand-to-hand combat. To compensate for my lack of strength, I had to replace it with precision. The human body was both tough and weak depending on where and how you hit it. You could fall from a great height and survive with serious injuries, or someone could knock you down with a punch and kill you instantly.

    He wasn¡¯t on guard until I stepped in and jabbed him in the throat with a well-targeted blow. Caius staggered back against the desk and clutched his neck as the wind was taken from his pipes. I followed it up with another punch to his midsection, designed to expel the rest of the air from his body.

    ¡°Shit!¡± he cried in a horse voice. He swung wildly in my direction to make some space and regain his bearings. I erred on the side of caution and stayed out of range. I could run down the clock all I liked because he was the one who needed to escape the building without being captured.

    ¡°Nothing irritates me more than people making light of me,¡± I quipped. It was a sharp reminder to Caius that I chased him down in the academy because I believed I could apprehend him.

    ¡°What kind of teenage girl knows how to fistfight?¡± he replied.

    ¡°The likes of Maria Walston-Carter.¡±

    Caius pulled the chair aside and pushed it between us to try and stop the fight cold, but I wasn¡¯t going to let him control the pace of his confrontation. He seriously pissed me off the last time we met with his magical tricks. I was going to dole out some payback for his misdeeds, and maybe get some answers about the watch he stole.

    ¡°You¡¯re a young girl ¨C there¡¯s no need to do anything violent ¨C agh!¡±

    I silenced his pleas by hopping up onto the desk and pummelling him around the head with a kick. Caius finally got the message that I was not going to be persuaded by words, so he put his hands up in defence and tried to block the follow-up that I delivered with a near bone-cracking impact afterwards. He grasped his forearm and hissed at the pain.

    His reluctance was not going to dissuade me from neutralising the threat he posed, and he sensed the same thing. He put up his dukes and squared out his feet. I would quickly learn that the man was not a particularly talented fighter, but the size difference between us would help even things out.

    He tried to sweep me off of my feet while I was standing on the desk, but I hopped back and down onto the floor before he could reach me. He slid over the polished surface and sent papers flying everywhere in the process. His first punch went astray. I redirected it into the wall and caused his knuckles to brush against the plaster.

    ¡°Where did you learn to fight?¡± he bellowed.

    ¡°My Father was very concerned about self-defence.¡±

    ¡°That didn¡¯t answer my question!¡±

    He charged at me with his arms wide open, but constricting me was not going to achieve the desired outcome. I reached out with a kick aimed squarely at his stomach, forcing him back and opening another gap.

    ¡°Is now really the time to talk? You already rejected my offer to avoid this!¡±

    ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be good at brawling!¡±

    It was too late to be ruing his own decision-making now. I was not bluffing, all he had to do was talk things out and I would have avoided fighting him. This guy was nothing more than a petty thief. He was no murderer, and he hadn¡¯t yet posed a direct threat to me or anyone else. I could get information out of him. I did have to laugh at the contrast between his suit-clad persona and how he acted while trying to be discrete. Even his accent was broader than before.

    He came at me again with a trio of jabs, one of which was dangerously close to hitting me in the nose. It would be hard to come up with an excuse for getting my face busted up, so I was acting with more caution than usual. It would be even worse if the guards showed up and captured him because they would make a connection between him and the injury.

    I responded in kind, aiming below the neck due to the difference in reach between us. He was getting irritated by my single-minded focus on trying to tire him out with gut punches, so he took the blow and leapt into close range to grab my shoulders. I continued to pummel him until I was no longer getting any benefit from the strikes. He pushed me back into the wall and held me there.

    ¡°Are you some kind of crazy sleeper agent?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Do you honestly believe that the government trained me to do any of this? I¡¯m the real deal. I¡¯m Maria Walston-Carter.¡±

    His grip was tight and it was impossible for me to gain any leverage from this position. I reached up and grabbed him by the tie, before swinging up at his crotch with my left leg. He was one step ahead of me this time. He closed his legs and took the hit to prevent me from moving. With my shoulders pinned back and one of my legs trapped, there was little I could do.

    ¡°Aiming below the belt isn¡¯t very noble!¡±

    ¡°Neither is getting into a fistfight,¡± I observed.

    I refused to let go of this clothing. He couldn¡¯t remove his hands from my shoulders without running the risk of having me attack him again. We were locked into a stalemate ¨C which was fine by him. He took the opportunity to get a closer look at me with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

    ¡°You really do look every bit the rabid animal you fight like. It¡¯s strange how such a picturesque appearance can change into something so menacing.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t scare me.¡±

    ¡°I never said I did. If I really scared you, you would have never pursued me back at the academy or tried to fight me in this office. You should know that there¡¯s a very thin line between bravery and stupidity.¡±

    I rolled my eyes, ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear that coming from you. You¡¯re the one who seems so dead-set on ignoring my warnings about this. I hope you enjoy the money while it lasts because they¡¯ll be looking to be rid of you at the first opportunity.¡±

    He gave a surprising response, ¡°That¡¯s fine as long as I get the chance to spend it beforehand. I don¡¯t think you realise just how much this money means. I¡¯d happily give my life for it because I won¡¯t need to be around once I hand it off.¡±

    ¡°What a sad excuse for a life you live,¡± I scowled, ¡°The person you¡¯re leaving it to won¡¯t be happy with that, not lest you believe them to be a callous soul. Don¡¯t you feel ashamed, or sorry for your parents?¡±

    ¡°I get to choose how to spend my life, little lady,¡± he said with venom. I¡¯d struck a nerve by questioning his motives. ¡°My parents never once cared about me. Why should I feel thankful to them for thrusting me into this mess?¡±

    I hopped up with my other free leg and kicked him in the ribs. His grip on my other limb loosened for just long enough so that I could wrench it free and push him away, pulling the tie from around his neck while I was at it. He clutched the area I¡¯d hit with a frown. He was starting to hesitate again.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to do something? I¡¯m not holding back, so neither should you.¡±

    ¡°What variety of gentleman injures a young girl?¡±

    ¡°You would be surprised.¡±

    We came to blows again, though I could sense that his heart wasn¡¯t in it. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to fight earnestly against me, relying on less harmful methods like trying to restrain me. It was going to be impossible for him to do that. I was using every trick in my repertoire, he was fighting with one arm behind his back and a lingering anxiety about someone finding us in the office.

    Now was the time to put this affair to rest.

    I charged in and ducked under his outstretched arms, popping back up behind him and wrapping the stolen tie around his neck. My fingers danced and quickly formed an intersection from which I could tighten it. I heaved him over my back with all of my strength and slammed him into the floor with a judo-style throw. Before he could get his bearings, I stood and pulled it taut, stepping back until we reached the wall again.

    He tapped my arm as a sign of surrender.

    ¡°I give, I give!¡± he wheezed. With a tie wrapped around his neck and his airway constricted, Caius ceased resisting I slackened the noose in response to show him that compliance would be rewarded.

    ¡°The watch you stole, did the Monarchists who hired you want it too?¡±

    He laughed, ¡°What the hell, are you trying to play detective now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the one asking the questions. Unless you want me to knock you out and hand you over to the nearest guard you¡¯ll tell me what I want to know.¡±

    ¡°You drive a hard bargain, little lady.¡±

    ¡°The watch,¡± I repeated with emphasis, ¡°Do you know what it¡¯s for?¡±

    He shook his head, ¡°No. I was curious, so I asked a friend of mine to look into it for me. All she could find out was that it¡¯s handed down to each head of the Roderro house, but they wouldn¡¯t send a thief like me to go steal it just because it¡¯s worth a bit of spare change. I¡¯m sure a smart girl like you already figured out that much.¡±

    ¡°You would be correct. A simple deduction to make, really.¡±

    ¡°So why are you asking me? You were right, I¡¯m just the guy at the bottom ¨C they don¡¯t tell me anything more than what I need to know to do the job.¡±

    ¡°That would be a rational thing to assume, but humans are not quite rational, are they? I am being thorough and covering every angle.¡±

    ¡°I guess not.¡±

    I slackened the tie a little more to show him that he was heading in the right direction. He gasped down a big gulp of fresh air before I could pull it taut and suffocate him again. If he kept talking, he wouldn¡¯t need to worry about it.

    ¡°The watch and the party list have to be related,¡± I asserted, ¡°They¡¯re pushing these tasks onto you so that it¡¯ll be easy to control what information gets out. You¡¯re a mage, you must have sensed something coming from the timepiece.¡±

    Caius hesitated between telling the truth or concealing it from me to give himself leverage. He could extract concessions from me in return for that key information. I wasn¡¯t going to give him room to negotiate. I already had another plan in mind for what to do with him.

    ¡°I can buy you out if that¡¯s what it takes.¡±

    He laughed, ¡°Pft, you¡¯re not going to do that.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised at how much pull I have. My allowance is probably more than those Monarchists are willing to pay you. All you have to do is give me a hand finding out who¡¯s responsible for this. It won¡¯t be any more dangerous than completing the job for them.¡±

    ¡°What a load of rubbish. You don¡¯t have any skin in this game, why would you want to stop them?¡±

    ¡°Clemens is my uncle. It would be inconvenient if he died because of that list getting out.¡±

    ¡°Uncle or not ¨C a normal girl would be quivering in her boots right now. That, and all the stuff you just did, tells me that there¡¯s more to this than you¡¯re willing to tell me.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re the same on that front.¡±

    Caius tilted his head to one side, ¡°Fine. I did get a magic signature from the watch. I haven¡¯t got the foggiest idea of what it¡¯s being used for though. They didn¡¯t tell me anything.¡±

    Magic signatures were an easy way of detecting when an item was magically enhanced, but they do not convey what the device is used for. It would take someone in the know or an expert on the subject to unveil that mystery. Adrian did know what it could do, but he was not willing to share the truth with me at that moment. A part of me was hoping that Caius knew instead because getting answers out of him sounded easier and less thorny than the alternative. I unwrapped the tie and allowed Caius to rub the red mark around his neck, the hierarchy of who was in charge now firmly established.

    ¡°I believe you. But your part in this isn¡¯t done yet. I want you to help me find out who¡¯s responsible for this. If you do I¡¯ll keep this encounter a secret and pay off whatever debts you¡¯ve incurred. That sounds reasonable to me.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say that they¡¯ll kill me if I step out of line?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°They¡¯ll kill you regardless of what you choose to do. You have a higher chance of surviving if you side with me.¡±

    Caius¡¯s eyes were wide in disbelief, ¡°A few minutes ago I would have called you crazy for saying that, now I¡¯m not so sure.¡±

    If snuffing out this plot demanded killing people in high places that was what had to be done. If anything, that was my comfort zone, and the lack of modern policing in this world made life easier.

    Caius was not going to follow along with whatever I said. He trusted me no more than he did the folks who originally contracted him to steal the list. They had paid him once for the work already completed. Money meeting mouth was the next step to flipping him onto my side. I didn¡¯t carry a bundle of cash with me at all times though, my powers of persuasion would have to be enough.

    I stepped around his prone form and approached the desk where the documents had been knocked loose during our fight. Most of them were personal drafts of letters and plans for the party in the next election, not the sensitive stuff that Caius¡¯ employers were looking for. I took a thin strip of jagged metal from my sleeve and raked the lock on one of the drawers.

    ¡°Here it is.¡±

    Caius perked up and hung onto the edge of the desk to see what I was talking about. It was the candidate list for the upcoming election. It contained the names, ages, and addresses of every person who was planning to stand on the Liberal Democratic ticket. I¡¯d need to nudge Clemens into placing this sort of document in a more secure location.

    ¡°No wonder they want to get their hands on this. They could track down and kill every member of the party. We can¡¯t let them get this document.¡±

    ¡°We?¡± Caius repeated.

    ¡°We. Because if you don¡¯t give me a hand you aren¡¯t getting paid, and I¡¯ll turn you over to the guards that my Uncle hired instead.¡±

    Caius sighed, ¡°I guess that sounds better than being arrested.¡±

    I took in the typesetting and formatting of the document and stored it away in my mind for later. I also grabbed a piece of parchment and started to fill in the details of their names and hometowns. The obvious solution was to forge a copy of it with the information modified.

    Once I could remember it in good detail I slipped the original back into the drawer and locked it again. It was too risky to use this in my plan. A single badly timed move could lead to it falling into the wrong hands. Caius could hand the fake version to his contact and avoid arousing any immediate suspicion. The list of names was easy to get and cross-reference, but their addresses and the seats they were running for were kept secret. By the time they discovered our ruse Caius would be in the clear and I could use what I¡¯d learned to launch a counter-attack on them.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to create a fake candidate list, and you¡¯re going to hand it to your contact. Then I¡¯ll follow them and see where it leads. Once that is done, your part in the play is over. I will pay you and our business will be done.¡±

    ¡°Wait a second, are you suggesting that you¡¯re going to bust this plot wide open alone? You¡¯re good in a fight, but I doubt that a girl your size is going to be able to handle that many people.¡±

    ¡°Why do you care?¡±

    Caius didn¡¯t answer me directly, ¡°It just seems a little odd, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°It all depends. I could turn their names and locations over to the police and wash my hands of the ordeal. I agree with your assessment that dismantling their operation will be no simple matter. They are exercising a level of discretion that will make it difficult. Your contact is likely kept in the dark as well.¡±

    Caius ran a hand through his sweat-covered hair, ¡°Why are you talking like you¡¯ve done this before?¡± I smiled and pulled him back to his feet. He reached up and clutched his aching ribs with a grimace, ¡°And did you have to hit me so damn hard?¡±

    So much for all that talk about me being a ¡®little lady.¡¯

    Caius was still hesitant to agree to the bargain I was offering him. He¡¯d need proof that I was being serious about it before deciding. In my eyes, not screaming like a banshee and having him hauled away was proof enough, he did not seem to agree.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to let you walk away from this. It¡¯s up to you what path you wish to walk from there.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get you one bit. You¡¯re not going to be able to stop this. You¡¯re throwing yourself beneath the wheels for no good reason.¡±

    ¡°I would rather not see the country plunged into another civil war. It could potentially impact millions of people. I¡¯m offering you a second option. Avoid the conflict, and I¡¯ll pay you whatever they used to hire you.¡±

    ¡°You said that they¡¯ll kill me. If they¡¯re so dangerous, why would I go against them?¡±

    I stared at him, ¡°Because I¡¯m much worse.¡±

    The killing intent was clear. Caius couldn¡¯t believe that he was being intimidated by this, but after that fight, he knew that I was more than I first appeared. He slumped over and tried to appear non-threatening.

    ¡°If you show me the money, I¡¯ll consider it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d need some time or organise that.¡±

    ¡°The drop-off date isn¡¯t for two days yet. That¡¯s more than enough time for you to get the cash and arrange a forgery to hand over.¡±

    ¡°Come by our residence tomorrow. I¡¯ll have one of the servants bring you through the front gate.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have the money by then? The payment is two hundred thousand marks.¡± He wasn¡¯t kidding when he said they paid him well for the work. That was four times the average yearly wage of a working-class citizen.

    ¡°Is that embellished?¡± I asked sceptically.

    ¡°Cross my heart ¨C it is not. That¡¯s the unfiltered truth.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s no matter to me if you¡¯re exaggerating. Two-hundred-thousand it is. Look on the bright side, you might live long enough to spend it this way.¡±

    We cleaned up the mess caused by our brawl and snuck back into the sitting room at the back of the house. I expanded on some of the details that he needed to know before we continued. He held no personal loyalty to the plotters who hired him. He was going to do what was best for him and his interests. To some that sounded like he was an unreliable conspirator, but it was actually for the best. I could predict the way he was going to behave when it was disconnected from a personal ideology.

    The core of the plan was simple. Caius would hand over the forged document to the contact, and I would follow them to wherever they were hiding. With that information in hand ¨C it would be a simple matter of tipping off the authorities or causing a commotion that would attract them to the building. If the contact was being cautious it could take a long time. Patience would be a virtue.

    ¡°The contact¡¯s name is Cordia, but I presume she is using an alias like me. She¡¯s a willowy sort that wears a pair of glasses.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there, you need not describe her appearance to me.¡±

    Caius looked at me like I¡¯d grown a second head.

    ¡°Are you seriously going to tail her in person?¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t hurt anybody if they don¡¯t find out.¡±

    He groaned, ¡°You¡¯re twisted in the head, I swear. I¡¯m starting to think that you don¡¯t know how dangerous this is.¡±

    I waved him away with a final warning, ¡°I am well aware of the risks, and I am perfectly capable of handling myself. Remember to visit the house tomorrow and get your payment, and don¡¯t stay here at the party when we break. Someone is going to notice that you aren¡¯t a member of the staff.¡±

    ¡°If you say so...¡±

    Caius was keeping the meeting point close to his chest. I crossed my fingers and hoped that he would pick the most rational option by defecting to my side. I returned to the gazebo and caught the tail end of Clemens¡¯ discussion with Damian.

    ¡°...And that¡¯s how I ended up with that Hansen Sitting Chair. I was over the moon at the deal we struck!¡±

    I decided to put Father dearest out of his misery and distract Clemens for an hour or two, ¡°Uncle, would you like to hear some of my stories from the academy?¡±

    His face lit up like the fourth of July, ¡°That sounds wonderful! Please excuse us, Damian.¡±

    It was the most genuine smile of gratitude the man had ever worn on those cragged features of his.

 Chapter 56

    Sometimes I wondered why my Father afforded me such an insane amount of money as a monthly allowance. The manor we lived in was not exactly surrounded by prime real estate for commercial premises. The countryside was sparsely populated and almost impossible to operate that kind of consumer-goods business in. The folks in these parts of the Republic had enough money to have their food and clothes delivered, if not grown and created on their property with dedicated staff members.

    It was an hour''s ride down to the coast where most of the shops could be found. As a direct consequence of this ¨C I seldom spent a single penny of the Walmarks that he threw at me. There were few items of interest to buy, and getting there was too inconvenient for me to bother doing so regularly.

    Even though I never spent any of it, my Father continued to keep track of what he owed me, tallying up the total and leaving it on the financial books as a separate account for me to access at my leisure. He was not anticipating me taking out a large portion of that cash to pay a thief-for-hire, but what he didn¡¯t know couldn¡¯t hurt him. It was only gathering dust otherwise.

    And so, with more money than most people would see in their lifetimes shoved into a discarded suitcase ¨C I wandered down the path into the front garden. Caius was already waiting at the front gate for me, trying his best to not look suspicious. I opened the gate with my key and waved him through.

    He immediately took issue with the size of the garden, ¡°Goddess above. Do you really need this much space?¡±

    ¡°No. We don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting you to agree with me.¡±

    ¡°Call me a cynic. The only thing these gardens are good for is employing local people to take care of them.¡±

    Caius chuckled. I led him through the trees and towards a private sitting area that rested beside one of the property¡¯s many ponds. It was a picturesque landscape for a dirty deal. It was also the most secretive spot on the whole estate, unmarked, unpathed, and rarely visited by anyone else. Nobody would see us making our handshake agreement out here. I took a seat at the table and placed the suitcase down in front of him. Caius joined me and crossed his arms impatiently.

    ¡°Did you bring me here just to show off?¡± he quipped.

    I frowned, ¡°Show off? I wasn¡¯t the one who built this place, I just live here. What do I have to be proud of?¡±

    ¡°Seeing how the other side lives is something I thought I¡¯d gotten used to. I break into places like this all the time ¨C but this manor is a cut above. I guess that¡¯s what all the money in the Republic can buy, as expected of the Walston-Carter family.¡±

    ¡°I am more than aware of the great inequalities that divided Walser ¨C so allow me to do my part in redistributing some of our ill-gotten gains.¡±

    I flipped the latches on the case and pulled it open, revealing the frankly absurd number of notes that I¡¯d withdrawn for this specific purpose. The look on Caius¡¯ face told me everything. He was expecting me to stiff him on the payment and push it back until he did what I asked. I was not going to do that. I needed to show him that the offer was genuine.

    ¡°Bloody hell.¡±

    I held out my palms, ¡°This is the down payment. The other half will be yours if you follow through with the plan. All you need to do is hand this fake over to your contact.¡±

    I pushed a stack of papers across to him. They contained an almost perfect replica of the real party registry, with falsified addresses attached to protect the candidates¡¯ confidentiality. The cash was right there for him to take and do with as he pleased, while his other employers only offered promises upon successful delivery. Now that he knew I was being deathly serious - he¡¯d be stupid not to take it.

    ¡°Where on Earth did you get all of this cash? Is your Father involved in this?¡±

    ¡°No. This is what I¡¯ve saved from my allowance over the past three years.¡±

    Caius twitched as I casually revealed that this money, which would be enough for a working-class man to live on for well over a decade, was the spare change that my Father found down the back of the couch and gave to me.

    ¡°You¡¯re screwing with me.¡±

    ¡°I do not make jokes, Mister Willow. The money is right there.¡±

    ¡°But if you doubled this, it¡¯s more than what they¡¯re paying me.¡±

    ¡°Then they clearly aren¡¯t paying you enough for the job at hand. I¡¯m a firm believer in the power of the free market. You¡¯re a talented man with information that I want. It¡¯s only natural that I use the power I hold to gain an advantage over them.¡±

    I¡¯d been in his shoes before. There were a lot of employers who weren¡¯t willing to pay the market rate for what was an expensive process. If you wanted someone dead, you would have to demonstrate just how badly you wanted it to happen through your contract price. Haggling was one-half of my job as an assassin.

    ¡°You... I¡¯m starting to think that there¡¯s something wrong with all of this. Nobody offers this much cash without an ulterior motive, and you¡¯re too young to be playing these sorts of games.¡±

    ¡°I grew up fast.¡±

    A leaf fell from the canopy above and landed on the water, sending ripples through the still surface.

    ¡°But there¡¯s a limit. Who are you working for?¡±

    ¡°Nobody. This isn¡¯t a threat, Mister Willow. You are free to make your own decision, but the fact that you neglected to steal the real thing during our last encounter shows me that you are leaning towards accepting my deal. If you choose to walk away here and now, that will be the end of it. I will seek alternative ways to prevent their plot from coming to fruition.¡±

    Caius understood that I meant keeping the list away from him, or anyone else they sent to try and steal it. I did not foresee them hiring another flunky to do that. Caius was being contracted multiple times to keep information locked down. They could kill him later and cease worrying about any outsiders leaking intel to the police.

    There was one problem ¨C Caius could just as easily think that I was lying to him.

    ¡°You already understand that I need this money, correct?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re willing to hand over this much cash to a thief like me?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°And you trust me enough to lead you to the contact?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s rather simple. If you do that, the second half of this payment will be given to you. There¡¯s nothing in this world that can be truly relied on aside from a man¡¯s capability to act in his own interest. They are offering you a theoretical reward in exchange for the documents you do not have. I am offering you a physical reward in exchange for nothing but your cooperation¡±

    Caius reached up and swept back his hair, ¡°Goodness. You¡¯re a little devil. I feel like I¡¯m selling my soul to you.¡±

    ¡°Apologies for my cold demeanour.¡±

    The tension snapped. He reached out and grabbed the case, double-checking that the bills were real before closing the top. It was the most cash Caius had seen in one place. Even the sorts of folk who stashed their money beneath their mattresses didn¡¯t keep this much on hand.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll play your game. I just hope it doesn¡¯t come back to bite me in the arse.¡±

    Caius studied the fake listing. It was an eerily accurate recreation of the original, complete with the same font and spacing between the letters. Clemens and my Father utilised the same typewriters ¨C so it was an elementary problem to solve. The addresses were real and located within the respective constituencies, but they were not residential buildings. When the plotters launched their attack they¡¯d quickly discover that the people on the list were not living there. I was hoping that everything would be wrapped up neatly by that time.

    ¡°All of the names on that list are real, but the addresses are fake. Hopefully, they won¡¯t notice the deception.¡±

    ¡°And if they figure it out?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for you to decide. They don¡¯t have any leverage over you, do they?¡±

    ¡°No. Thankfully not.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a master of escape ¨C I¡¯m sure you can get away from one person if things turn south.¡±

    ¡°I guess I¡¯d better do some preparations of my own just to make sure. We¡¯re meeting tomorrow at seven sharp, so I¡¯ll swing by here at six and ride with you into the city.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Once you hand the fake over to the contact, I¡¯ll tail them and decide what to do next. As far as your part in this goes, that¡¯s all I want. A simple tip to the police about Monarchist dissidents should put the freeze on whatever they¡¯re trying to do.¡±

    He laughed, ¡°Jeez. You¡¯re ruthless. Is this what all noble ladies are like at your age?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I stated simply. I leaned across the table and extended my hand, ¡°Do we have a deal?¡± Caius took a moment to confirm his decision, before standing and joining me in a firm handshake to secure our contract.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll switch sides and give you a helping hand.¡±

    ¡°Pleasure doing business with you, Mister Willow. That money is yours. Do with it as you please.¡±

    Caius stared blankly as if he was anticipating a catch or additional condition. When I said nothing more, he hesitantly took the briefcase into his arms and tipped his hat.

    ¡°I¡¯d save the pleasantries until this is done with.¡±

    ¡°Oh, of course. I never assume anything until all of my matters are settled.¡±

    I walked him back to the front entrance.

    ¡°You remind me of my sister,¡± he said.

    ¡°I do?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a little devil. Always causing me trouble, you do your hair in the same way as well.¡±

    He was sharing something very personal with me, though I wasn¡¯t certain of why he elected to do so. Was my young age so disarming that he was willing to offer details about his personal life? I held up my hand and stopped him from speaking.

    ¡°Stop right there. You shouldn¡¯t tell me anything about yourself. This is a strictly professional arrangement, and I doubt that you do the same with your other clients.¡±

    He looked sheepish, ¡°Ah. You¡¯re right.¡±

    I checked the time. My Father would be back at the manor soon.

    ¡°Tomorrow. Six. We¡¯re riding into the city and finding your contact.¡±

    He nodded, ¡°It will be done.¡±

    Caius stepped through the gate and out of sight. I locked it behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. Things turned out better than I expected. He was just short-sighted enough to take my offer of physical cash. The money was irrelevant to me, so even if he decided to stiff me I wouldn¡¯t be left in a tough spot. The family made so much that they didn¡¯t know what to do with it, besides reinvesting it into expanding the business. That in turn made the problem even worse, the wealth accumulated snowballing more and more until there was nothing left to do but horde it.

    A charity or two would appreciate some of that splendour, though donating to charity was never a matter of how much money you collected. It was about the personality of the person who held the cash. I doubted that Damian would change his ways and become a donor any time soon.

    There were preparations to be made. Franklin would be my chaperone for this trip, and he was going to have questions. I was opening myself up to exposure by doing this, but needs must. There were no good excuses I could conjure to assuage his concerns about leaving the manor so late, and my Father was only agreeable by his absence from the house on that day. On the other hand ¨C Franklin was my personal attendant, he would never contravene a direct order given by me.

    ¡°Gun,¡± I muttered to myself, ¡°Definitely bring the gun...¡±

    <hr>

    Samantha was shocked by how similar everything was to when she left her hometown and farm for the academy. It was unrealistic to expect drastic changes in just a few months, but it felt like much longer from her perspective. It took her some time to readjust to how friendly everyone was. This was a quiet, rural community where everybody knew each other by name. Nobody would go to that effort in the city.

    She descended the stairs of her farmhouse home into the kitchen and living area, where her Mother and two older brothers were already preparing for the first meal of the day.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re awake already, Samantha?¡± her Mother, Meriden, chirped in a broad accent.

    ¡°We only wake up an hour later at the academy,¡± Sam griped.

    Her entire family started acting as if she¡¯d forgotten how to live on the farm. She didn¡¯t need them to pamper her after a few months away from the house. She took her usual seat at the table and grabbed three pieces of bread from the basket.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t make you change your accent then?¡± Ben asked.

    ¡°They hardly have time to teach us everything we need to know; do you honestly believe that they¡¯re finding time to give me language lessons?¡±

    Ben and Tobias were the spitting image of one another. Before they started to grow into their own personalities and tastes, the only real way to tell them apart was by which side the beauty mark on their cheek was located. In recent years ¨C Ben had taken a liking to letting his hair grow long, down to his shoulders. Tobias preferred to keep it trimmed and out of the way for when he was working.

    The real oddity was that both young men were considered the most eligible bachelors in the town, girls were always approaching Samantha and asking her to make introductions. They clearly weren¡¯t as familiar with them as she was. Good looks can only get you so far.

    Tobias leaned over, ¡°Can you show off some of that fancy magic you learned for us?¡±

    ¡°Sure. An open space is all it takes.¡±

    The family settled in for their meal. Samantha mused that Maria was likely enjoying a long morning in bed, instead of waking up at the crack of dawn and heading out into the fields to work. It was no slight against Maria. Sam knew first-hand just how strong her work ethic really was. Even so, farm life was an acquired taste. The effort required was immense and the nitty-gritty of caring for animals made most feel queasy.

    Meriden addressed her three children, ¡°Eugene is already mucking out the stables. Remember to go give him a hand before pestering Samantha to show you her magic.¡±

    The siblings wolfed down what food was available and headed into the front yard. The farm was surrounded on all sides by picturesque rolling hills, though the dense morning fog made it impossible to appreciate them. Fields stretched out in every direction, surrounded by low stone walls to keep some semblance of order. To the right of the farmhouse was the main stable, where the larger animals were kept when they weren¡¯t in the fields grazing.

    Eugene was already half done dispensing of the faecal matter when his children arrived on the scene. Tobias grabbed a bag of feed and got a head start on filling the troughs with fresh food. Ben tapped his Father on the shoulder after he threw another shovel full of dung onto the pile by the entrance.

    ¡°You¡¯re almost done already!¡±

    Eugene laughed, ¡°Only because you lads have been spending too long eating your bloody breakfast. I didn¡¯t know you were so excited about shovelling the dung.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not. I could have spent a few more minutes in the warm before coming out here.¡±

    Samantha approached one of the cows and stroked her cheeks. They were receptive to physical affection. Samantha loved spending time with the animals on the farm, even when some of them were destined to be sold off and slaughtered for meat. The cows were a regular fixture though, kept until the day when they could no longer produce milk for the family. Bell was the oldest animal on the farm by some margin.

    ¡°Bell is holding up well, isn¡¯t she?¡± Samantha said.

    Eugene grunted between shovelling loads of waste, ¡°Aye. She¡¯s a hardy old girl ¨C a bit like your mother.¡±

    Samantha left Bell alone and set about giving her brothers a helping hand with the morning chore. There were stables to clear, vegetables to fertilise, livestock to feed and weeds to clear. Running a farm like this was a big job for a small family, but Eugene¡¯s new pride and joy expedited some of the most tedious work.

    It was a harvesting machine. Similar to the horse-drawn cutters that were used before, but more efficient and less prone to jamming. What once took several days now only demanded two or three. Meriden worried about how they¡¯d be able to recoup the high cost of purchasing the device, but now she was a dyed-in-the-wool believer too. Time is money, and the harvester was very good at saving time.

    The amount of crops the farm generated increased with the new efficiency savings while allowing some overhead which Eugene and his sons could use to rest after working hard. Those scant hours felt like weeks from their perspective. There was a time when they¡¯d work from dawn to dusk every day regardless of the condition of their bodies.

    Another benefit was for the horses. The new machine generated less resistance by digging into the ground. They could work for longer, or simply work less. One of their stallions was already rehomed to another farm ¨C they couldn¡¯t justify keeping him around without anything to do! The last two were more than capable of handling the load.

    ¡°I hope those nobles haven¡¯t been too awful to you,¡± Tobias said while hefting up another sack of food.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you been reading my letters? I¡¯ve made some good friends, and the mean ones are too scared to say anything to my face.¡±

    He laughed, ¡°That isn¡¯t a surprise. I¡¯m scared of saying things to you too.¡±

    Tobias and Ben weren¡¯t interested in the details of her letters. They were too busy working the farm. Eugene gave them the cliff notes when they reconvened for dinner later in the day, but he was an unreliable source and neglected the small parts like what kind of friends she was making.

    Eugene placed his shovel down and leaned against the wooden post, ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you met Maxwell Abdah?¡±

    ¡°Do you know his family?¡±

    ¡°Course I do! The Abdah family has one of the biggest import-export companies in Walser. You don¡¯t run your own business or farm in this country without dealing with them. Try and become his girlfriend or something, he¡¯s well off.¡±

    Samantha sighed, ¡°I¡¯m not his girlfriend, and I¡¯m not interested, even if he does have his admirers.¡±

    ¡°Shame.¡±

    Samantha was getting annoyed at how flippant her Father was being about his daughter¡¯s romantic endeavours. The other girls at the academy may have been happy to settle with a boy based on their wealth and influence, but Samantha wasn¡¯t. What was the point of spending the rest of your life with someone you hated?

    Maria was the same. She already had all of the money she could ever want, and she was first in line to inherit the family¡¯s leadership position. She was going to be a tough woman to crack. She was very particular, and she knew exactly what she liked and what she hated. Samantha couldn¡¯t fathom what sort of person would become romantically involved with her.

    Samantha put herself into a suitor¡¯s shoes and tried to come up with a plan of attack, combining what she had learned about Maria and their previous experience together. For one thing, attempting to be pushy with her was a no-go; Maria valued her privacy and didn¡¯t like it when strangers tried to get friendly. She wasn¡¯t materialistic ¨C so a gift wasn¡¯t going to do any good. She was very serious, meaning she gelled well with others who were responsible and restrained, but Samantha was a naturally sunny and outgoing personality.

    This was starting to make her head hurt. Being Maria¡¯s lover was more complex than some of what they taught at the academy. Samantha knew things were going too far when she inserted herself into the process and internally practised confessing to her. She shook the cobwebs clear and returned to what she was doing.

    Ben was dismissive, ¡°At least they didn¡¯t train the ¡®country girl¡¯ out of you. I was worried that you¡¯d show up in a dress and speak with a new accent.¡±

    ¡°Do you honestly believe that they could do that much in a few months?¡±

    He shrugged, ¡°I dunno¡¯ ¨C those city folks are a crazy bunch. They might have strapped you into a machine and brainwashed you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being silly.¡±

    Eugene agreed, ¡°Ben, stop being an ass and help me haul this stuff to the field.¡±

    Tobias chuckled as his brother was dragged away by his collar.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to have you back on the farm for a little while, Sam. I think Mum and Dad have been lonely without you around to cause trouble.¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°I have to grow up and find my own place eventually. That¡¯s what Dad wanted when he sent me to the academy, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Sure, but he might not have realised how big of a change it really was to not have a young ¡®un on the property. I bet that Mum is going to be pushing to have another baby eventually.¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t so sure, ¡°Raising a baby is a lot of work. I don¡¯t know if Dad wants to do that and run the farm at his age.¡±

    ¡°Have you settled on what kind of path you want to take?¡±

    ¡°No. We still have the rest of this year before we have to choose a specialist subject.¡±

    ¡°Any thoughts?¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t giving it any consideration at the moment. She¡¯d gotten so involved in trying to be Maria¡¯s friend that it totally slipped her mind. There were subjects that she enjoyed more than others, though she¡¯d developed an odd fondness for the political theory classes that they were given in citizenship. She also found herself looking forward to her science lessons, but all three branches of the subject were equally enthralling.

    ¡°There are too many choices for me to be certain at the moment. It¡¯s like a whole new world has opened up in front of me. I¡¯m learning so much about things I didn¡¯t even know existed before now.¡±

    Tobias reached out and ruffled her hair, ¡°Well ¨C I¡¯m sure that Mum and Dad will be happy with whatever you choose. You¡¯ve always been much brighter than me and Ben, so go out there and do the family proud ¨C yeah?¡±

    Samantha slapped his meddling hands away from her two-tone locks, ¡°I told you to stop doing that!¡± It was too late. Her hair was already turned into a tangled mess, with pieces sticking in every direction with no rhyme or reason. Tobias laughed and ran away before she could punish him with a punch to the arm.

    Samantha stopped by the doors and looked out across the farm. For so long this was the only place she knew. It was her home and the source of her family¡¯s well-being. It felt strange to consider a future where she was no longer a part of the picture.

    She matted down some of her hair, ¡°What I want to do in the future, huh?¡±

 Chapter 57

    It was a lovely summer¡¯s day, the perfect kind of weather for a noble boy to relax in the back garden of his family¡¯s manor. But for Max, it was a shame that relaxation was the last thing on Claude¡¯s mind. The two friends were sitting by the lake at the rear of the property with a platter of drinks to share between them.

    ¡°Now, for the real reason I came to your house today!¡±

    ¡°I invited you.¡±

    ¡°That may be the case, but I¡¯m also here to advance my investigation into this Caius Willow fellow. Where better than to start by finding out where he¡¯s been stealing those blue roses from?¡±

    Max pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, ¡°Claude ¨C my Father doesn¡¯t keep a pile of business records in his office, especially not ones that are related to the operation of specific locations and how much stock they receive. In fact, there isn¡¯t a single stock list in this entire house.¡±

    It was a hyperbolic statement. Some of the servants used lists like those to purchase supplies for meals and the like. The point was still the same. Max¡¯s Father kept his business away from the house, and that business was so large and wide-reaching that there was no way for him to micromanage them to such an extent.

    Claude laughed, ¡°I thought as much, but can you blame me for trying?¡±

    ¡°Yes, very easily. You said you were going to stay away from the investigation.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t help it! Not when the bloke throws a huge clue right at our feet, doesn¡¯t it make your imagination race?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m imagining all the different ways that you¡¯re going to get hurt or maimed trying to track him down.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re always so pessimistic.¡±

    Max slammed the table, ¡°When have you ever given me a reason to be optimistic? You wandered off once and managed to get shot in the gut! I¡¯d say that¡¯s a terrible rate of return for all of the effort.¡±

    ¡°It was my pelvis, actually.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter where it was. The fact of the matter is that us two aren¡¯t in any position to go snooping around. Noble brats like me can get away with a lot ¨C but getting in the way of the police is a step too far.¡±

    Claude grumbled into his teacup, ¡°I doubt they¡¯ll take the theft that seriously. To them, it was just another watch. The teachers are more concerned about how he managed to break onto the campus.¡±

    ¡°They do right. Not that I¡¯m saying this out of spite for Adrian, but there are more pressing concerns for the police to handle than the theft of personal possessions. It may be some time before they make any progress on the case.¡±

    ¡°I still think that Adrian is hiding something about that watch. He had a weird look about him when I asked what it was for.¡±

    ¡°Everybody reacts differently. You shouldn¡¯t assume so much based on his expressions.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯d be so torn up about it if it was nothing more than an old watch. Adrian isn¡¯t the sort of guy to care about tradition. The only thing he thinks about is what value a person or thing has.¡±

    ¡°Again, I don¡¯t see what the point of getting so hung up on this is! We can¡¯t do anything.¡±

    Claude shrugged, ¡°I do it because it¡¯s fun.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? What happened to becoming a police detective?¡±

    ¡°I still want to do that,¡± Claude asserted, ¡°But you were right ¨C I¡¯m just a dumb kid who doesn¡¯t know the first thing about how to actually catch a criminal. None of the theories I come up with are going to go anywhere. If and when the police do catch them, I want to see if I was accurate or mistaken.¡±

    ¡°And it only took a nearly fatal brush with one of those criminals for you to realise that?¡±

    ¡°Maria always says that failure is the best teacher.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine her taking many hard knocks.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s true. I sobered up after spending so much time cooped up in the hospital.¡±

    Samantha said that there were no thanks necessary, but Claude felt differently. She saved his life by taking a chance on her healing magic. He would have bled out and died if not for her and Max swooping in and closing up his wound. Once he reached the hospital a surgeon removed the shrapnel in his body and pieced his bones back together.

    The tough part was finding a way to show his appreciation. There was nothing more selfless that a person could do than saving a life. Saying ¡®thank you¡¯ in a hundred different ways didn¡¯t have the intended effect, and there was nothing he possessed that he could give her.

    Max turned his nose back down to the book he was reading, ¡°The teachers are starting to stress me out by talking about our selections next year. We haven¡¯t even finished the second semester yet.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you already have a free ride lined up?¡±

    ¡°Sure, if I don¡¯t find something that I like ¨C but I¡¯d rather make my own choice instead of falling back on the family business. Muwah and Odeh are stuck to my Father by the hip at the moment.¡±

    Claude couldn¡¯t hold back his intrusive thought, ¡°Why are your brothers named in that old style, when you¡¯re called Max?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple really. It¡¯s a family tradition for the first sons to be called Muwah and Odeh, the third son is a free-for-all. My Father always liked the name Maxwell, he worked with someone with that name for a few years, so he ended up giving it to me.¡±

    Claude nodded, ¡°That¡¯s interesting. So, who were Muwah and Odeh the first?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re the two founders of the branches of the Abdah family. Muwah stayed behind in Shataran, while Odeh emigrated here to Walser.¡±

    ¡°But your Dad isn¡¯t called Muwah or Odeh.¡±

    ¡°I said it was a tradition, not a rule. There are a lot of folks in our family who were never given those names for whatever reason. A few changed them once they reached adulthood. I think Odeh is the tenth, and Muwah is the ninth.¡±

    ¡°Right. I wish my family had an interesting story like that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that interesting,¡± Max argued, ¡°A lot of my relatives are boring. There¡¯s a lot more to life than a name.¡±

    ¡°I should write that one down for later. It¡¯s poetic.¡±

    Max turned the page, ¡°I never liked poetry.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s close-minded of you, and you¡¯re usually the one berating me for not paying attention to the arts.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a problem with poetry, I can appreciate the artistry. It¡¯s just not for me.¡±

    Max snapped his fingers right in front of Claude¡¯s face.

    ¡°You came here to study, didn¡¯t you? Stop distracting yourself.¡±

    ¡°Sorry for not getting excited about algebra,¡± Claude muttered.

    <hr>

    Caius was sceptical about the deal that Lady Maria offered him, right up until he was allowed through the front gate of her manor. She was waiting for him at an outside table, with her legs crossed and a suitcase made from brown leather. There was no messing around. She unlatched it and revealed that it was stuffed from edge to edge with Walmark bills.

    Part of him was outraged at the display of affluence, but he soon learned that there was more to Lady Maria than there first seemed. She was extremely intelligent, capable of discerning his motivations at a glance. The money was everything, and she knew that - which was why she made such an ambitious gambit right from the word ¡®go.¡¯ There was no reality in which Caius turned down the money. Maria read him like an open book, she could smell his desperation in the air, but she didn¡¯t use it to unfairly leverage against him ¨C she merely made an attractive counter-offer.

    Cash that he could use right away was more valuable than whatever hypothetical reward the Monarchists were dangling above his head. It was urgent that he collected as much cash as possible, as quickly as possible. He was working to a tight deadline.

    With an agreement in place, it finally came time to meet with Maria in the city and launch the sting operation. He arrived at the manor the following evening and stood outside of the gates. A carriage trundled through and stopped to allow him inside. Maria and another man were waiting in the cabin.

    ¡°This is Franklin,¡± Maria said, ¡°He¡¯s my escort for the evening.¡±

    Caius tipped his hat to the gentleman across from him, though he was not happy about seeing a stranger dallying with his ward. What manner of excuse or cover story had she provided to earn his consent for this operation?

    Maria was dressed for the occasion. A long, black coat covered her upper body and legs. A pair of shaded, round spectacles covered her eyes from view, and her hair was tied into a simple ponytail, rather than the elaborate braids that he¡¯d seen the day previous. It was almost impossible to recognise her at a glance.

    ¡°Are you sure that you¡¯ve gotten everything cleared up?¡±

    Maria smirked and crossed her legs, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be here if I did not have permission, no?¡±

    Franklin bristled in his seat but remained silent. The truth was that he was the only one who knew what was going on. Maria was insistent that she be allowed to leave the manor and visit Bleufarl on short notice. Maria rarely asked for anything at all, but now she was demanding both her allowance and the carriage to ferry a stranger into the city.

    ¡°I do hope that this isn¡¯t your way of eloping, my lady,¡± Franklin griped.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    She grimaced at the unpleasant thought, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dream of it. No offence to my new friend here.¡±

    Caius shuffled awkwardly in his seat as both of their stares turned to him.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be keeping a close eye on you. I don¡¯t want to see anything funny from you!¡±

    Caius held up his palms, ¡°There is no need to worry about me. I¡¯m a consummate gentleman. I wouldn¡¯t dream of doing harm to anyone, especially not a young lady like Maria.¡±

    ¡°Franklin ¨C I told you to remain calm. Do you not trust my ability to verify his claims?¡±

    With a single question, Maria silenced Franklin¡¯s complaints.

    Caius bristled with anxiety as her personal carriage ferried them down the avenue. What kind of Father would agree to let his daughter out of the house at this hour? Everything was about to be plunged into darkness. The city was no place for a young girl at this time of evening. If Maria was afraid of it ¨C she didn¡¯t show any signs on her face. She remained calm and composed for the whole journey.

    What she was getting out of this was still a mystery. Protecting a family member was understandable, but was it enough to outweigh the other factors involved? Maria was tangling with some tricky business. She correctly identified that the plotters were extraordinarily dangerous, yet persisted in her efforts in the full knowledge that she would be in the firing line. It would be simpler for her to go back to the manor and live the rest of her life on the money made by her family.

    Caius was a firm believer that there was no such thing as a good Samaritan.

    He was a man whose perspective was shaped by a life on the bottom rung. There were a few good people who would go out of their way for others, but a majority preferred to avoid such rank inconvenience. That which demanded their effort or their wealth was a hurdle too high to mount, even when the life of another was on the line. This way of living was capable of turning the strictest moralist into a cynical sort. Caius tried to toe the line. He targeted those who could afford to lose something and avoided violence while doing so.

    Maria identified that upon their first meeting. She discerned his motivations from his actions and used her pull to manipulate him to her liking. She was the definition of a silver-spoon noble, yet she seemed to bear a similar recognition of the facts as Caius understood them. Maria offered him the payment because she knew that no moral argument would sway him, only the force of capital.

    Caius¡¯ hold on the armrest tightened as the meeting place approached through the small window on his left. He was trying to distract himself with these idle musings, but the job came first. He¡¯d need to keep his wits about him. There was no guarantee that the handoff would end safely. This might be the point where they decided to cut him loose, and it was so very easy to do with a gun these days. The police wouldn¡¯t even investigate it.

    Maria pierced the silence as the carriage rolled to a stop; ¡°I¡¯ll be watching.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t parse whether it was an attempt at reassurance or a threat. He ensured that the papers were secure in his pocket and dismounted the carriage, slipping down the alleyway with Maria peeling away to find a good finding place. Franklin remained with the carriage in case they needed to make a quick escape.

    Cordia was already waiting.

    She never looked happy to see him, even more so with a half-used cigar held between her bony fingers. Caius bemoaned his current state of affairs ¨C always surrounded on all sides by women with such cold glares. Though between Cordia and Maria, the latter was more personable.

    She adjusted her glasses and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the air, ¡°You kept me waiting, Caius. I almost believed that you fled the city.¡±

    ¡°Flee? For what purpose would I flee? I promised to see this task through to the end. A few minutes delay is hardly cause for concern.¡±

    There was a flash of black hair around the corner behind them, Maria was in position and ready to follow her wherever she went. Caius pulled the package from his coat and handed it to Cordia.

    ¡°I hope this is everything you need. Infiltrating the estate was a tedious affair.¡±

    Cordia said nothing. She unlatched the binder and flipped through the pages with an impassive expression. Each second that passed felt like its own small eternity. Was Maria¡¯s gambit going to pay off?

    ¡°Impressive work.¡±

    Caius exhaled.

    ¡°Everything appears to be in order. But I do have one question...¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Did you honestly think that we¡¯d fall for a cheap forgery like this?¡±

    His heart leapt into his mouth.

    ¡°A forgery? I went into his office and grabbed those from his desk!¡± Caius exclaimed in a desperate bid to keep the charade going, ¡°Are you telling me that they were fake the whole time?¡±

    Cordia dropped the cigar to the ground and crushed it beneath her heel.

    ¡°Let me make this clear, I don¡¯t care one bit as to whether you were aware of this or not. The only thing we want to see is results. If you are incapable of providing those results, we can replace you with someone who is more suitable for the task. You can¡¯t trick us. One of our people has been infiltrating the party for years, and they¡¯ve already revealed their address and constituency to us. The list here is incorrect.¡±

    She waved the papers in the air, before summarily dumping them into the nearest rubbish bin. Caius¡¯ pulse quickened. They¡¯d planned for this from the start. A mole was present in the party list, for the precise purpose of differentiating between the real thing and a fake.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll go back and do it again. I¡¯ll take every damn document in that office if I have to,¡± he croaked.

    Cordia¡¯s words were sharp like knives, ¡°See to it that you do. My employers do not reward failure. And it would be a terrible shame if something were to happen to your sister. Such a cute face doesn¡¯t deserve to be involved in messy business like this.¡±

    His sister?

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± Caius barked, desperately trying to give the impression that she was off-mark.

    She approached with footsteps that cracked like gunfire, ¡°It¡¯s a funny thing, actually. I don¡¯t know how they do it ¨C but the people upstairs noticed that there was a particular girl on the sanatorium¡¯s registry, and she was regularly receiving visits from you.¡±

    Caius gripped his knuckles tight until his nails cut into the skin.

    ¡°It must be very expensive to keep a girl in a place like that, and there¡¯s no guarantee that she¡¯ll survive her battle with the illness she suffers. It must be worrying to work your hands to the bone for her sake, unsure of what fate lies in store.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t keep it quiet. Caius stepped up to her and lowered his voice, ¡°If you so much as touch a single damn hair on her head ¨C I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to bring all of you down with me.¡±

    Cordia was not impressed, ¡°And what do you suppose that one man can do? There¡¯s no purpose in threatening me. I am merely one rung above you on the ladder. I¡¯m a messenger. I handle the dirty work that my superiors are unable to.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that crock of shit. It¡¯s so easy for you to wash your hands of responsibility, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Is that not the same thing that you do? You invade people¡¯s homes, steal their treasured possessions, and assure yourself that there is no harm done. You never once imagine the paranoia or anguish your victims suffer as a result.¡±

    ¡°You made this personal!¡± he roared, ¡°There¡¯s one rule that I always stick to in this business, and it¡¯s to never get friends and family involved. You¡¯ll get your bloody documents. I¡¯ll go back and get them.¡±

    Cordia allowed his response to hang for a painfully long time before relenting, ¡°Fine. It¡¯ll be faster if you succeed anyway. The deadline is coming up. Make sure that this is not the last time that we speak on such friendly terms.¡±

    Caius desperately wanted to have the last word ¨C but she was already moving away towards Maria¡¯s position through the other exit. He gritted his teeth and stepped back before his emotions got the better of him. As she slipped around the corner and out of his sight, Maria peeled away and started her pursuit.

    <hr>

    It was too quiet for me to hear the exact context of the meeting, but it was evident from Caius¡¯ tone of voice that it hadn¡¯t gone well. She¡¯d dumped my fake documents into the nearest bin and put pressure on him to do it again. There was uncertainty in the air. Would she return to a safehouse, or move close to the employers that I was seeking?

    There was no good in backing off now and missing my window of opportunity. Caius might have burned a very large bridge for this. I tucked my hands into my pockets and made myself look inconspicuous as I started tailing the woman from a safe distance. She was the unaware type ¨C not considering for one moment that Caius was working with someone else.

    Still, she tried to slip away from any pursuers by taking a roundabout path through the city. The problem for her was that I could easily guess where she would come out again after disappearing into the alleyways. I parked myself at the nearest junction and waited for her to emerge again, this process repeated three times. It wasn¡¯t so late that we were the only people out and about. It was easy to blend into the crowds and keep myself out of sight.

    It didn¡¯t take long for me to guess where she was headed. There was a dense residential area closer to the dockyards where many of the working men and women liked to live. It was a good place to hide. I studied the layout of the city a few years ago in case I ever needed to make an escape. There were a lot of apartments and homes available, and the owners never asked questions about their tenants. It was easy to bluff and claim you were one of the thousands who came to work at the shipyards. Attrition was high, so it wasn¡¯t unusual for someone to come and go within weeks.

    True to form ¨C she forced her way between two men who were arguing on the front porch and disappeared behind one of the side doors. It was a tall building, consisting of four stories. Judging from the number of doors, each floor was its own apartment. I snuck over and peered through to check if there was a flight of stairs once she was gone.

    It was time to make a hard choice. I could chase after her into the complex and try to squeeze her for information, but if the Monarchists had any good sense, she wouldn¡¯t know anything of importance. But good sense was always in short supply. There was a chance that she was savvy to more than they wanted her to be. I could follow her back to her employers, but that rested on the assumption that she was even in physical contact with them.

    I loosened the edge of my skirt and ascended the steps. There was only one door with a number emblazoned on it. She wasn¡¯t going to open it if I knocked politely. It was a good thing that I boasted a world-beating plethora of lockpicking experience. I pulled out my makeshift tools and started to fiddle with the locking mechanism. The landlord was being cheap, it only took me a minute to figure it out.

    The door clicked and I paused. There was no sound coming from inside.

    The main room was up front. It was a relatively small space, in which a kitchen, washroom and seating area were all squeezed. My attention was drawn to the back window, which was open. She was sitting there with a drink in one hand and a cigar in the other. The noise coming from outside was such that she never heard me tinkering with the door.

    I drew my pistol and approached with steady steps. Video games convinced people that getting down onto your knees was the best way to sneak, but that only served to knock you off balance and make a sound. The true way to sneak up on someone was to keep your back straight, your legs limber, and your nerves calm.

    She tensed up as the cold metal of the gun barrel pressed up against her bare neck.

    ¡°Talk,¡± I demanded, ¡°Who¡¯s paying you?¡±

    She placed her drink on the small table to her right before answering.

    ¡°That¡¯s a rather vague question. There are a lot of people who play a part in paying my wage.¡±

    ¡°I already know that the Monarchists are digging for information. Who put you up to this?¡± She tried to move, so I pushed the gun harder. ¡°And if you turn around to face me ¨C I¡¯ll leave a brand-new hole in that face for you to breathe through.¡±

    She chuckled, ¡°Terrifying. Do you use that one of all of the people you hold at gunpoint?¡±

    ¡°Stop wasting my time. It makes no difference to me whether you live or die. Tell me what you know.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re hoping for a detailed list of every person involved, I¡¯m afraid that you¡¯re sticking that gun in the wrong place. They don¡¯t talk to me face-to-face; all of my marching orders are sent via letter.¡±

    She nodded in the direction of one such envelope on the counter next to me. I reached out and scanned through the text. It was nothing explosive. It was a request to find and hire a thief, and to steal two things of importance. One of them was Adrian¡¯s watch, and the other was the Social Democrat¡¯s party membership list.

    ¡°Do you know what the watch is for?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what they want to do with the membership list?¡±

    She sneered, ¡°Kill them most likely. What other reason would they need something like that?¡±

    ¡°And where did they want you to drop it off?¡±

    ¡°The old mailbox on the fifth avenue. They have the key to open it.¡±

    I pulled away to show her that she was on the right track.

    ¡°And when is the pickup time?¡±

    She hesitated before relenting to save her own skin, ¡°In a week. I was hoping that Caius was going to get what we needed before then.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s Caius?¡± I asked. Obviously, he was already working for me, but she didn¡¯t know that.

    ¡°The thief I hired, but he knows even less than I do.¡±

    ¡°Thank you very much.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t done yet, ¡°You sound like a young girl. What the hell are you doing holding a gun up to my head?¡±

    ¡°A voice can be deceiving.¡±

    She remained completely still while I ransacked her cupboard for the rest of the letters that she was sent by the conspirators. I tucked them into my coat pocket and started to back away towards the door. Killing her would maintain the status quo, and that was a bad idea when trying to find out the facts.

    ¡°We never met, and this never happened.¡±

    She returned to her drink and remained silent as I stepped back through the door and slammed it shut. I speeded down the stairs and out into the street, keeping myself out of sight from the window which she was watching from. This was a productive operation. I¡¯d need to study the letters in brighter conditions and plan for my next move. But first ¨C it was time for a debrief with Caius, and to hand him his payment for the information.

 Chapter 58

    I collected as much information as I realistically could from Cordia, so from my perspective, it was a job well done. My plan fell flat but the outcome was the same regardless. When I returned to the carriage a few minutes later, I could tell that something was off with Caius. His eyes kept squirrelling away, and there was a sense of urgency in his voice when he spoke with me about what happened.

    ¡°Did you get what you want?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°She told me about the drop-off point. It looks like she was the one responsible for sourcing a thief and delivering the goods to a post-box on Fifth Avenue.¡±

    ¡°How did you get that kind of information out of her?¡±

    ¡°I can be very persuasive.¡±

    He opened his mouth as if to elaborate ¨C but closed it again a moment later. Whatever was on his mind was serious enough that he was debating telling me about it. From the way that his interaction with Cordia ended, he must have been given a serious threat about what would happen if he were to fail a second time. If it was personal, he had a good reason to keep it secret from me.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t fall for the trick.¡±

    ¡°No, she didn¡¯t. It looks like they have someone on the inside of the party who¡¯s standing for one of the seats. She cross-referenced their name and address against the papers we gave her.¡±

    I shrugged it off, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I was covering all of our bases when I came up with that plan, I got what I wanted. She doesn¡¯t know where they meet, or even the full picture of the people involved. They keep her at arm¡¯s length. I think your ¡®failure¡¯ is just as troubling for her as it is for you. She must have twisted your arm to protect herself.¡±

    Caius sighed and nodded. He didn¡¯t seem half as foolish as the men from Erwin Tee¡¯s gang ¨C so I hoped that he¡¯d do the right thing when the time came. I reached into the undercarriage and retrieved the second case of cash for him.

    ¡°I hope this money goes far enough, then.¡±

    He looked at the case and then back to me.

    ¡°Really? You¡¯re paying me in full?¡±

    ¡°Did you expect me to scam you? You did exactly as I asked, therefore you must be paid for the services rendered.¡±

    He hesitantly took it from me and held it close to his chest, ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Now that our business is concluded, I¡¯d like to give you a piece of advice. You should get as far away from these people as possible before it¡¯s too late. I¡¯ve seen this sort of organisation before. She and you are being used because they can silence you later. Even Cordia isn¡¯t safe.¡±

    Caius bristled at my pointers, ¡°I don¡¯t need someone half my age to tell me that. I¡¯ve been doing this underworld business for a long time. I get how the game is played.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a stubborn look in your eyes,¡± I replied, ¡°I get the feeling that you aren¡¯t going to leave things as they are.¡±

    ¡°And what if I have a reason to stick around, or there''s something that¡¯s stopping me from leaving?¡±

    ¡°For your sake, you should weigh the risks properly first. If you have the ability to move, you should. You don¡¯t want to be placed into a situation where you waited too long to act.¡±

    He grimaced, ¡°I¡¯ll consider it.¡±

    I left him on that note and stepped back into the cabin. Franklin closed the door and knocked on the driver¡¯s side to set us off down the road. He had no idea what any of this was about.

    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand, why did you need to come here and meet with him?¡±

    I crossed my arms and kicked back, ¡°I don¡¯t trust those teachers and their ability to handle this situation. I decided to take matters into my own hands for once. Consider a favour to Adrian Roderro.¡±

    ¡°I hope that you aren¡¯t putting yourself in danger here.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no harm done,¡± I insisted, ¡°This isn¡¯t exactly a criminal affair.¡±

    It was an obvious lie, but Franklin was not in a position to squeeze answers out of me. I could stay my tongue whenever I liked. I stared out of the window and tried to walk through my next steps. I was in a tough spot. The Academy¡¯s next term was about to begin. I couldn¡¯t dedicate my time to solving this problem and keep up with my studies at the same time. I was going to have to be a weekend warrior.

    I was hoping to tip off the police and bust the ringleaders ¨C but Cordia didn¡¯t know anything. They could throw her in a cell and threaten to throw away the key, but it wouldn¡¯t get me any closer to my goal.

    ¡°Cordia, huh?¡± I grumbled.

    Franklin spoke up, ¡°Did you just say Cordia?¡±

    ¡°What about Cordia?¡±

    He held his hand up in the air to demonstrate, ¡°Tall woman, glasses, face like thunder.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s just that she¡¯s a member of the servant¡¯s union. Bran Cordia Jones. She works for Carides Franzheim. We¡¯ve spoken at length before about the business.¡±

    Franklin had accidentally revealed something that eluded me. Cordia wasn¡¯t a fake name to protect her identity, she¡¯d just used her real one and assumed that nobody would find out who she was.

    Franklin snapped his fingers, ¡°One of your school friends must have spoken about her. Doesn¡¯t Lance Franzheim attend the royal academy at the moment?¡±

    ¡°Yes ¨C it was a passing mention.¡±

    Franklin was doing all of the hard work for me! Not only did he know who Cordia was, but he also came up with his own excuses for what I was doing. It never occurred to him that I hadn¡¯t once spoken with Lance Franzheim, and that if I did he wasn¡¯t going to bring up one of his house servants in a random discussion. Once again, my age and looks proved more effective camouflage than anything else.

    The rest of the ride back to the estate was done in silence. The holiday was nearly over, but it wasn¡¯t exactly doing much to relax me after a stressful period of being shot at by assassins.

    Things were going to get harder when I returned to the academy.

    <hr>

    Stepping back through the gates made me feel as if I never left for the break at all. It was a feeling that most of the other students felt as well. Time sped by when you were enjoying yourself and taking things easy, but slowed to a crawl when you were expected to work hard. The energy had been drained out of the kids, who shambled towards the front doors with their luggage like a horde of zombies.

    There was no time for me to get caught up in that wave too. It was clear that something bad was brewing behind the scenes. The pieces were starting to come together. The Monarchists were planning something big for the next election, and they were targeting their rival parties for retribution. Given the broad coalition that ruled the country ¨C it was possible that the other Republican parties were being prepped in a similar manner.

    What I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around was the importance of that damn watch.

    It was never mentioned in the game. Adrian Roderro was also never put into the position of leading his house. All of the crazy stuff that happened to me and Felipe was new, and so were the consequences that stemmed from it. It was clearly important to the plan. If they just wanted a watch, they could buy one from the nearest clockmaker.

    That left one answer. It wasn¡¯t just a watch.

    Magical items were rare, but not unheard of. It was a specialised school of magic that demanded a lot of intelligence and study to explore fully. Magical items came with advantages and disadvantages versus the humans that created them. They could do basic spell functions. They could be ¡®programmed¡¯ to perform more advanced magic too.

    One of the most important distinctions was the way that magical items could store energy. You could pack a magical item with a dense battery of magic-absorbing crystals, allowing them to trigger spells more powerful than anything a human could achieve. The mortal body simply couldn¡¯t contain that much potential energy at once. The only issue was that those powerful spells demanded so much energy that charging the batteries could take years.

    Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t know enough about magical items and mechanisms to guess what its function was. The Monarchists did know ¨C they must have landed a source who was close to Adrian, or at least knew the origin of the watch and what it could do. This was a tightly held secret, a family heirloom that was only passed down to each leader of the family.

    Adrian was the one who could break this quandary, but he wasn¡¯t going to unless I could give him a good reason, that didn¡¯t compromise my true nature at the same time. It was a frustrating state of affairs, but he wasn¡¯t the only person I could press for information.

    Carides Franzheim was my next lead. I wasn¡¯t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Progress often came as a result of coincidence, if I hadn¡¯t said her name with Franklin in earshot, he would have never elaborated on who she was and where she worked.

    The Franzheim family were a middling noble house from the east of the country. Lance Franzheim was presently the only member of the clan at the school, and he was also one of the love interests from the original game. Lance himself was an innocent fellow who wouldn¡¯t hurt a fly, never mind getting involved with a violent overthrow of the Walser Republic.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    It lined up with the information I could dig up. Carides was an extremely dedicated member of the Tradition Party ¨C a Monarchist party that was on the far right even compared to their contemporaries. Rumours abounded about their ties to terrorist factions and acceptance of their tactics. They were the ¡®respectable¡¯ face of the violent movement.

    Cordia worked for Carides and was deeply embedded in the servant¡¯s union. That made her a valuable asset for them. The workers were mainly aligned with the Republicans, and they had their own parties running in the next election. She could get her hands on their nominee lists without having to hire a flamboyant thief.

    I wasn¡¯t going to run into the boy by accident. He was in his second year. I¡¯d need to go seek him if I wanted to try and get close to Carides. If I recalled correctly from my time with the game, Lance was a proud member of the school¡¯s tennis society. Tennis was a sport that was growing in popularity amongst the upper classes lately ¨C though some of that movement only came about because the ¡®poor folk¡¯ were getting involved in the others.

    Indeed, the price of entry into tennis was what made it attractive. Your average labourer or clerk didn¡¯t have the disposable income to buy a racquet or put together their own court.

    And it just so happened that Samantha was interested in joining.

    ¡°Maria, I¡¯ve been thinking about joining one of the societies. The tennis society caught my eye.¡±

    ¡°Is that really the first thing you say after not seeing me for a week?¡±

    Samantha smiled, ¡°Would you prefer to hear about all of the exciting developments on the farmstead?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t even sound convinced when you say that,¡± I groaned.

    She leaned over, ¡°I thought it would be fun if we both applied and tried it out. They¡¯re looking for first-year members to join up all year round.¡±

    ¡°I suppose it does sound like a decent way to spend our spare time,¡± I concluded.

    Samantha¡¯s eyes narrowed with fresh suspicion.

    ¡°Wait a second. You never agree to do anything unless you have a different reason that you won¡¯t tell me. Are you planning on doing something at the tennis society?¡±

    Was I really that transparent, or had Samantha gotten worryingly familiar with the way that I operated? Whatever I told her couldn¡¯t be worse than knowing I killed all of those people, so I elected to spare her some honesty.

    ¡°I wanted to speak with Lance Franzheim about something. It has to do with Adrian¡¯s missing watch.¡±

    ¡°Did he steal it?¡±

    ¡°No. I never accused him of stealing it. I think he knows someone who was related to the plot. I wanted to ask him a few questions to try and learn more.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Samantha nodded, ¡°That¡¯s a relief. I thought you were going to threaten him.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m capable of more than coercing with threats of violence. If anything, I only find myself plunged into those violent situations by other people. I was going to familiarise myself with him and push him towards giving me an answer.¡±

    ¡°Why do you think that he has something to do with it?¡± Samantha inquired.

    ¡°My butler recognized one of the family¡¯s servants coordinating with our thief. It¡¯s likely that she was the one who hired him, which means that the person employing her is pulling the strings.¡±

    Samantha brushed her fringe aside, ¡°I don¡¯t understand why I¡¯m still so surprised when you appear after a week with a plethora of information about whatever trouble is happening on campus...¡±

    ¡°I would have been willing to ignore it, but I can¡¯t help but shake the feeling that something bad will happen if I don¡¯t address it.¡±

    We stopped by one of the outside courtyards and took a seat.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say I get it. I mean ¨C is it really that important for you to be in control all the time? Is that why you started trying to protect Felipe? You didn¡¯t have anything to do with what happened, so why go to the trouble?¡±

    Samantha would not believe the real explanation as to why I felt this way. It was all based on the meta-textual knowledge I held about this world and the situation I was in. My presence directly and indirectly changed the course of events, or rather, I was brought here to be the lynchpin in stopping those things from occurring. This was no coincidence. Something or someone wanted my abilities as an assassin.

    It was hard to describe this second life as a punishment, but it was no walk in the park either. I was constantly on the lookout for knives bore in the dark. It wasn¡¯t just my life that was on the line here; people around me were under constant threat. This was a real, violent version of the world from the game. In a sense ¨C ¡®Love Revolution¡¯ was an application form for taking Maria¡¯s place. Why this not-so-benevolent force chose me above a genuine fan of the series was a mystery. They could navigate this crap without having to rely on extreme violence.

    ¡°Is it not the function of a proper lady to protect her friends and acquaintances from harm?¡±

    Samantha¡¯s stare was withering, ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°No?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that for one second. You always hide how you¡¯re really feeling, or your real motivations for doing any of this. I¡¯m not buying that you do all of this crazy stuff, putting your life at risk, out of the kindness of your heart.¡±

    Samantha was smarter than I gave her credit for. I¡¯d done this song and dance a few too many times for her to fall for it again.

    ¡°Like I said, I think the theft of Adrian¡¯s watch is part of something bigger ¨C and I¡¯d like to continue enjoying my time at the academy. I believe that their plot is disruptive enough to cause serious harm to a large number of people.¡±

    Cutting this off at the pass would prevent things from devolving into an all-out war within Walser. It didn¡¯t matter what your station in life was, a civil war like that would reach from coast to coast without discrimination between ideologies or classes. I was capable of doing ¡®good¡¯ deeds every once in a while, even if my previous job was one in which I committed one of the gravest sins imaginable.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t something that girls our age should be worrying about,¡± Samantha observed.

    ¡°I¡¯d love it if the police were capable of handling these types of situations, but they aren¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re almost like one of those policemen yourself. Did you ever hear that rumour about the government training child soldiers to make their enemies disappear?¡±

    I blinked. Where the hell did that come from?

    ¡°What? Child soldiers?¡±

    ¡°I never put much stock into it, obviously. It¡¯s a fringe political theory that I read about while doing research for my citizenship project. They say that they¡¯re taken from orphanages around the country and trained to be effective killers, targeting anti-government forces and criminals. You reminded me of it just now.¡±

    ¡°I mean this genuinely, I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about. I¡¯m self-taught.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s less believable than you being a secret government agent.¡±

    I stated my case firmly, ¡°I lie a lot. I¡¯m not lying now.¡±

    Samantha relented, ¡°Okay, okay. I haven¡¯t heard a denial that strong from you before. But how did you teach yourself to do all of these things? It isn¡¯t a field where you can get anywhere from trial and error, and your skills are a lot more than being a good shot with a gun.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s self-defence.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling porkies again!¡± she chided me.

    I turned my nose up in response, ¡°Self-defence can be offensive too. And what good is the answer I can provide you if you won¡¯t accept it?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡±

    ¡°I do. I know exactly how stupid it sounds when stated out loud. You¡¯ll think that I¡¯ve lost my mind.¡± I tried to rein it back in again and avoid breaking character in front of her. My accent was starting to slip into something more common.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the foggiest idea what could be even crazier than being a child soldier trained by the government.¡±

    ¡°And that is precisely why I am keeping it a secret. Curry enough trust with me and I will consider offering you a more detailed explanation.¡±

    It was time for the tennis club to assemble for morning practice in the back garden, so we decided to walk over and see what was going on. There were several different sports fields clustered together in close proximity, along with changing rooms and stands for spectators. There were three tennis courts available for the students to use, surrounded on all sides by plant-covered fences designed to keep the ball from getting away from the players. The sounds of tennis balls whipping through the air were audible from a long distance away.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never played tennis seriously,¡± I said, ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll find some enjoyment in it.¡±

    We stood by the gate that led onto the main court and observed the club in action. Lance Franzheim was playing a friendly match against one of the girls to demonstrate to the new members.

    He spoke in a gentle tone of voice, ¡°Learning how to position your feet is essential to playing well. Tennis is a sport concerned with your reactions, your hand-eye coordination, and your ability to move around the court without tripping yourself up.¡±

    He launched the ball into the air and served it to his partner, who returned it with a firm swing. Lance emphasized the movement and limberness of his legs and ankles while sending it back to the other side. The girl caught the ball in one hand so that he could continue his explanation.

    The racquets they were using were obviously less sophisticated than what I was familiar with. Early models were made from wood and catgut, but the prevalence of aluminium and steel meant that they were rapidly evolving into a form more like the ones from my old world. The academy could afford these modern designs, but the new students were still given the traditional wooden ones while they got their footing with the game.

    ¡°If your feet and ankles aren¡¯t orientated correctly, you will struggle to respond to the opponent¡¯s return. Please ensure that you stretch your muscles before playing, as it¡¯s very easy to strain them if you do not prepare.¡±

    The lecture continued for a few minutes before he clapped his hands together and broke up the group so that they could practice. Lance followed the duos and spoke with them, in turn, to make sure that they were taking in what he was teaching. The members of the club were so engrossed that my presence did not elicit the usual wave of fawning adoration. Lance¡¯s eyes eventually fell on us loitering by the gate. He smiled and approached us with a racquet still in hand.

    ¡°Apologies, I didn¡¯t notice you both standing here.¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°It¡¯s fine. We just came over to see what the tennis society was up to.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re always happy to welcome spectators and prospective members. I¡¯m afraid that I¡¯m not familiar with you, Miss...¡±

    ¡°Samantha, Samantha Easton.¡±

    He reached out and shook her hand before turning to me.

    ¡°But I¡¯ve certainly become familiar with you, Maria. You have a great many fans from the first year.¡±

    ¡°For better or worse,¡± I replied. Some of the girls were already spying on us and whispering about how lovely my hair looked, or whatever they liked to waste time regurgitating to each other in a desperate attempt to fit in. This was about to become the most popular student society in the school at the merest hint that I was going to join in.

    ¡°I¡¯d be happy to have the both of you take a trial. We¡¯re inducting some new members today, which means we should have the time to show you some of the basics.¡±

    Time to take the plunge.

    ¡°Okay. Shall we, Samantha?¡±

    He assured us that there was no need to change into our gym clothes for a short demo like this, so we followed him onto one of the currently vacant courts and grabbed a pair of leftover racquets.

    ¡°There¡¯s no better demonstration of the sport than to enjoy it for yourselves. I¡¯d like both of you to try playing a match, and I¡¯ll go easy on enforcing the rules this time.¡±

    Tennis was never something I needed to learn. I didn¡¯t need it for my old job, and my Father was more interested in other skills that would make me more attractive to prospective suitors. It wasn¡¯t utilitarian enough for my taste. I preferred to exercise my body in simple, effective ways that I knew worked. To enjoy tennis, I¡¯d need to let go of that kind of thinking and focus on the joy of it instead.

    Samantha had a competitive spark in her eye as we lined up on opposite ends of the finely trimmed court. A small net divided us, sure to trip up any inexperienced tennis enthusiast during their first game. Samantha did the honours and took the ball in hand, throwing it up into the air and swinging with her whole body.

    It shot through the air and towards my side, but was wildly off target and landed several inches away from the white line on the left. Lance was ignoring minor breaches of the rules, but there was no realistic way of me catching that one and returning it.

    ¡°Close, but too far over the line!¡± he offered.

    It was my turn to give it a try. My hand-eye coordination was great, but applying that to the fine art of tennis was tricky. I kept the ball low during my throw and swatted it with a slower, more controllable swing than what Sam used. Her long legs allowed her to cross the court and defend her square, but the next one was fully in my control. I slammed it down into the grass and sent it between her feet.

    ¡°Darn it!¡±

    Samantha was already getting into it.

    ¡°Nice shot,¡± Lance grinned, ¡°That was some good court positioning.¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t going to let me get away with that one. She retrieved the ball and squared her shoulders.

    So much for this being a friendly match between the two of us, she was out for blood.

 Chapter 59

    Caius hated visiting the sanatorium.

    There was nothing enjoyable about seeing so many people in such a terrible state. Their bodies were pale, and thin, robbed of their lustre and energy; many of them were so ill that their rib could be seen sticking through their skin. This particular sanatorium was dedicated to some of the foulest diseases known to mankind. It was a small comfort to know that they were not infectious. Because of that ¨C Caius could visit his one family connection without worrying about quarantine.

    He kept his head low out of respect as he passed by several of the wards during his journey through the main building. The sounds of people in pain, and the sobbing of their loved ones were a consistent auditory challenge that he faced when coming here. He hoped above all else that he would not be joining that chorus.

    There was a pleasant breeze rolling through the ward where his young sister was hospitalised. The white curtains flowed ethereally in the wind. The nurses rarely opened the windows, as many of their patients felt an unnatural cold. The heat on this particular day was such that it was necessary to keep them comfortable.

    ¡°Brother!¡±

    Caius removed his hat and approached the bed which had become his sister¡¯s involuntary home for the past year. She was always happy to see him ¨C as he rarely could find the time to visit the remote countryside location without making compromises. To keep a family member at the sanatorium was stressful enough, but there was also a great financial burden that had to be managed along with it. Most families could not handle juggling both responsibilities.

    In Caius¡¯ view, it was no good spending all of his waking hours attending to his sister. He was doing everything he could to make sure that she¡¯d live long into the future, a future where he could make up for that lost time by living as a family again. He sat down on the chair next to her bed and reached over to take her frail hands into his own.

    ¡°Have you been well, Alice?¡±

    She nodded eagerly, ¡°I¡¯ve been feeling so much better in the last week. The nurses say that I almost look good enough to leave!¡±

    Caius wished that they wouldn¡¯t say things like that. Until she received the treatment she needed, it was too dangerous to leave the sanatorium. If her condition were to worsen without the medics around to stabilise her, it would almost certainly result in her death.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got some good news for you, Alice. I¡¯ve been working very hard to get the money together for your treatment ¨C and I finally have it! I¡¯m going to forward it to the Doctors once we¡¯re done for the day, and they should come back to you and arrange the operation.¡±

    Alice¡¯s eyes lit up, ¡°Really? Do you mean it?¡±

    Caius chuckled, ¡°Would I ever lie to you?¡±

    He did, constantly. Alice didn¡¯t know anything about what his real job was or the crimes he committed to keep her safe. She was too young to understand how baffling the world could be, nor how callous and careless it treated the people who lived in it.

    Caius was enraged about what Cordia said to him in the days prior. Making his job personal was not the want of a good employer. They were attempting to manipulate him, instead of engaging with him as a freelancer. Caius did not know who was leaking information to them, it must have been somebody within the hospital.

    Moving Alice was not an option. Places in sanatoriums were rare, and there was an upfront cost associated with claiming a bed. This particular one was located in the perfect spot for the operation that Alice needed. It would be faster and safer for her to have it done as soon as possible, and then move her once the recovery period was over.

    He couldn¡¯t help the feeling of paranoia that submerged his senses. Every nurse who walked past the door elicited the same response. He found himself wondering if they were the ones responsible for finding out about Alice.

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± she asked innocently.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m very happy, truthfully. The only thing that I want to do is get you out of here.¡±

    The sooner he could arrange the operation the better. Alice was a long-term sufferer of a rare condition that robbed her of her strength, spoiled her appetite, and left her bedridden for much of her life. It was called Coilin¡¯s Syndrome. The exact causes of the condition weren¡¯t known, but there were effective treatments available to combat it. It was one of the few things that the pair could be thankful for.

    It was nerve-wracking to carry so much money in a pair of briefcases. Caius spent the past four days sleeping with them in his bed to make sure they weren¡¯t stolen. They never left his sight for one moment. They went everywhere with him. He still found it difficult to believe his luck.

    Maria Walston-Carter was a no-nonsense sort of girl. She promised to pay him, and she did. He¡¯d never tell her this ¨C but she reminded him of Alice. They were polar opposites in terms of personality, but they looked very much alike. It would be easy to confuse them for sisters if not for the radically different shades of hair they possessed. Alice was always praised for her pale blonde locks. They brought forth images of rolling fields filled with wheat.

    Alice was not convinced of his sincerity, ¡°You¡¯re getting into trouble again, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Caius chuckled, ¡°It¡¯s the elder brother¡¯s job to get in trouble, so innocent girls like you can focus on the important things. There¡¯s no need to worry yourself about me, you should focus on recovering once your operation is done.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m worried about the operation,¡± Alice admitted hesitantly, ¡°Because you won¡¯t be here to watch over me.¡±

    ¡°The doctors and nurses are better suited for that. They¡¯ve been training for a long time to look after sick people. There¡¯s nobody better suited to trust you with.¡±

    Alice nodded, ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll be brave.¡±

    Caius ruffled her hair with a smile, ¡°You¡¯re always brave ¨C Alice. Dealing with all of this, your illness, the money problems, it¡¯s not something that a kid your age should worry about.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a kid anymore!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re only eleven. There¡¯s a long, long way to go before you get to be called an adult. Enjoy it while it lasts. You¡¯ve got the time to do anything you like, even more so when we get out of here.¡±

    A nurse dipped her head into the room, ¡°Mister Willow? The Doctor is available now.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll be back in a moment, Alice. I need to have a chat with the good doctor about your operation.¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡±

    Caius grabbed his cases and headed through the door towards the head office. He knocked thrice on the door to be polite, before stepping through and bowing his head to the senior surgeon. Doctor Kern was Walser¡¯s foremost expert in combatting Coilin¡¯s Syndrome. He¡¯d performed hundreds of live-saving operations using a combination of science and magic - with a success rate that was the envy of the field.

    ¡°Mister Willow, it¡¯s nice to see you again. I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯re here for pleasantries.¡±

    Caius shook his head, ¡°I said I¡¯d be back when I got the money together, so here I am as promised. It took me an awful lot of work to get this.¡± He placed the cases down on the table and opened them, revealing the astonishing amount of cash that rested inside. The Doctor was expecting something more sophisticated than two briefcases stuffed to bursting with physical bills...

    ¡°Well I never,¡± The Doctor murmured, ¡°This will be more than enough to cover the expenses involved. You¡¯ll be glad to learn that we already possess the reagents and equipment needed to move forward. I can schedule her for an operation at your earliest convenience.¡±

    Caius tipped his hat, ¡°Please do. I¡¯d like Alice to begin her recovery as soon as possible.¡±

    Indeed, there was more urgency to this matter than ever. The Monarchists knew who he was and about his sister. They were going to threaten her as leverage. His only recourse was to see the task through and flee the area before any harm could come to her. There was enough money left over for that. A new life in a new city sounded like just the ticket to ease their woes.

    ¡°Very well. The theatre will be available in two days. Alice will have to refrain from eating or drinking for twelve hours before the operation begins, and afterwards, she¡¯ll remain unconscious for some time. Do you have any concerns that you¡¯d like me to clarify before we proceed?¡±

    Caius had heard it all before. It was an agonizing decision to make, so he researched the operation in question before giving the okay. There were always risks associated with invasive surgeries like this. Alice couldn¡¯t survive long enough to hit her teens without it. This was Caius¡¯ last chance to secure her future and see her grow into a young woman.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m very familiar with the process. I leave her in your capable hands.¡±

    Kern rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder, ¡°We will do our utmost to cure Miss Alice of her condition. A bright girl like her shouldn¡¯t have to spend so much time bedridden, the nurses have become smitten with her charms ¨C dare I say!¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Then I suppose we have some common ground,¡± Caius replied. Alice could worm her way into the coldest, most callous hearts with no effort on her part. She was charming and kind in equal measure, so the thought of anyone choosing to hurt her to get at him was almost too much to believe.

    Confident that Alice was going to receive the best possible care, Caius left the Doctor to his preparations. There was only one thing left for him to do. He couldn¡¯t risk having Alice sit beneath their thumb. It was time to go back to Clemens¡¯ home and steal the documents for real.

    ¡°Sorry Maria,¡± he murmured, but first ¨C there was still an hour left to his visitation.

    <hr>

    Samantha and I did everything we could to wear each other down. My strength and stamina were greater, but she wanted to win through persistence alone. It was a messy brawl of a tennis match, with both of us trying to impress our audience by landing our shots inside of the lines. The only thing we succeeded in doing was drenching ourselves from head to toe in sweat. Nobody was keeping a serious run of the scores.

    Lance clapped his hands and brought us back in, ¡°Okay! That¡¯s enough. I don¡¯t want you to ruin your uniforms. I didn¡¯t expect the both of you to be so competitive...¡±

    We collapsed down onto one of the stands and tried to catch our breath. Samantha was almost delirious with laughter about the whole ordeal.

    ¡°You bring out the worst in me, Maria.¡±

    ¡°This was meant to be a friendly match ¨C you were the one who started taking it seriously.¡±

    Lance brought us a drink so we could cool off, before splitting away to deliver the second half of his lesson to the new students. Samantha watched him commanding their attention with envy. She wished she could earn half the respect that he did.

    ¡°Claude and Max spent their entire break fretting about what subjects they¡¯ll pick when selections arrive.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that at the end of the year?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah ¨C but they expect you to start considering your options a long time before the final deadline. They got nowhere. Claude wants to do something that will help him become a detective, but Max is completely lost.¡±

    ¡°Then he should pick something that he enjoys. He has the luxury of doing that.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a first choice in mind.¡±

    Samantha gawped at me, ¡°I can¡¯t believe that you don¡¯t already have a clear idea of what you want to do when you graduate.¡±

    I chuckled morosely, ¡°The only thing I know how to do is, well, you¡¯ve already seen that.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s brow furrowed, ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear that from the girl who tops every quiz and exam we do. It¡¯s almost like these lessons are totally wasted on you.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a difference between being capable of something and being passionate about it. I have no prospects for the future at this time. I¡¯m likely to end up in my Father¡¯s position ¨C pointing fingers and barking orders for the sake of building even more wealth.¡±

    ¡°You could change a lot from there, do some good.¡±

    ¡°That is an optimistic way of viewing things. There are shareholders to account for. They won¡¯t like it if the Boss starts giving away what could be dispensed to them as dividends.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I see...¡±

    ¡°And it simply isn¡¯t true that they need me in charge. These businesses could easily run without our intervention for years to come. I would like to say that there is an area that captures my interest, but that isn¡¯t the case.¡±

    Samantha smiled, ¡°Which is why we should try out all kinds of different things! You looked like you were having fun while we were playing. I haven¡¯t seen you smile like that since we started here.¡±

    Surely that wasn¡¯t true. I laughed in her face at least once before that.

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    Samantha clarified, ¡°I¡¯ve seen your laugh, and your ¡®polite¡¯ smile when someone is annoying you, but never a smile like that. Apologies if this seems rude ¨C but it was more real than those other times.¡±

    I¡¯d let a genuine smile slip. Samantha distracted me from my problems such that there was a brief moment out there where I forgot what was going on. I said nothing in response, but Samantha was not intent on letting me wriggle away from acknowledging it.

    ¡°You already have looks that make all of the other girls jealous, but you look even better with a real smile on your face,¡± she mused.

    ¡°Okay. I get it.¡±

    I was straight back to being a grumpy bastard again. It was very annoying when another person started picking apart your behaviour like this. She had the good sense to back away from questioning it further, seemingly for fear of having some of her fingers bitten off in a violent outburst.

    ¡°I did have fun,¡± I admitted, ¡°Yet I remain uncertain about your proposal of joining one of these societies.¡±

    ¡°They only want a few hours of our time every week. You could easily cut some of the studying you do to come down here every now and then.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t the part I was concerned with. The only reason I spent so long studying was because I was trying to stay away from everyone. With that idea out of the window now, I was left to sit and consider what I could spend my spare time doing. Did I enjoy tennis enough to turn that into my big thing? I wasn¡¯t certain.

    ¡°What other societies were you interested in?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Music, art, theatre, athletics, and politics were the main ones.¡±

    ¡°Politics?¡± I echoed.

    ¡°Sure. They talk about current events, hold mock debates-¡±

    I cut her off, ¡°I know what they do. It was surprising to hear that you¡¯re interested in something so dry.¡±

    Samantha shrugged, ¡°I can¡¯t explain it, but our citizenship lessons with Mister Camry really captured my imagination. I¡¯ve been reading up on everything there is to know about parliament and the monarchy.¡±

    ¡°A lot of the students here plan of finding themselves a comfortable position, soaking up the taxpayer¡¯s money by standing for parliament. Most of them will win. It¡¯s easy to find a spot when your parents help run one of the major parties. I¡¯m afraid to say that it will be much harder for you to become involved.¡±

    She grimaced, ¡°I¡¯m well aware. Even the man who stands in our constituency as the farmer¡¯s favourite is well off in comparison to us. I won¡¯t say that I¡¯m planning on becoming an MP. I just find it interesting.¡±

    Lance returned a few minutes later with a pair of white towels. We dried down our faces and arms while he considered our qualifications to join the society. Any postulating on the society I did want to join could wait. Getting close to Lance and finding out whether his family ordered Cordia to organise the theft came first. There would be no time for tennis if they plunged the nation into an ugly civil war again.

    ¡°You two must have had fun,¡± he cracked.

    ¡°I suppose we did. I am interested in exploring the sport further if you¡¯d accept me as a member.¡±

    ¡°Of course! As I said, we¡¯re always looking to introduce new members to the society. It doesn¡¯t matter what year they¡¯re in, or if they have previous experience. First and foremost, our society values athleticism, good sportsmanship, and sharing a love of the game.¡±

    Samantha took a different stance, ¡°I was going to visit a lot of the other societies before deciding on one to join. Would you mind if I deferred my answer for a few days?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s perfectly reasonable. There¡¯s no deadline to join. Swing by any time you like and say hello, you don¡¯t have to be a member to use the courts or racquets. All of the equipment belongs to the academy.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Lance scratched the back of his head sheepishly, ¡°I have to say, having Maria here will result in a flood of applications to join. It¡¯s going to be a lot of work to find out who¡¯s taking the society seriously or not.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said this was for fun?¡± I said.

    ¡°It is. But we also join inter-school competitions, and some of our seniors have even travelled to national junior tournaments before. At the least ¨C we expect club members to attend some of our sessions and put forth an earnest effort. The teachers will be quite upset if our roster list consists of students trying to catch a peek at Maria.¡±

    The other club members were already doing that. I recognised a couple of them as my groupies. I turned to face the gap in the fence and three pairs of eyes scarpered away like startled mice. Maria was decisive in all things, so I turned to him and reached out for a handshake.

    ¡°Consider me interested.¡±

    He took my hand and shook on it, ¡°Glad to have you with us.¡±

    Lance was a curious character. He boasted a voice like a soft breeze, always breathless and airy no matter the circumstance. He loved animals and he really loved tennis. Of course, he held a dark secret or two. I was spoiling things for myself having played the game, but it was hard to forget the truth about him.

    Though ¡®dark secret¡¯ may be overselling it a little. Lance is the singular love interest who was implied to be bisexual. The fans loved that. There was more art of him with the other guys than there was of him with Samantha. This ex-boyfriend wasn¡¯t a named character in the game ¨C but judging from past precedent I was probably about to walk right into him.

    As for his family, the Franzheim lot was old money. They had their fingers in every pie you could find from the East Coast to the West. Business, politics, and the media. They were the first family to take advantage of vertical integration ¨C using every part of their empire to enhance the others. Lance¡¯s hand in marriage was the hot ticket for a lot of the girls.

    Since Adrian¡¯s life had changed versus the timeline from the game, I could no longer assume that the characters would remain static. Given his gentle nature, it was not likely that he was personally involved with the scheme. What kind of school kid would help organize a civil war?

    The girl who was hissing like a snake through the fence, perhaps.

    I tried to ignore her, but it was impossible. That was a purer display of envy than I¡¯d ever seen. She was clenching her knuckles so tight that they were turning white from the pressure. All this because I shook Lance¡¯s hand. Was she the sort who thought that babies were delivered by storks?

    ¡°The next session is in two days, before the first period. I hope you¡¯re an early riser.¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°You have no idea.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Lance chuckled, ¡°I¡¯ve seen her running laps around the campus. That¡¯s the sort of work ethic that we¡¯re looking for.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still visiting the other societies with me, right?¡± Samantha asked with puppy-dog eyes.

    I shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t see why not.¡±

    ¡°Slip into some comfortable exercise clothes and come down in the morning,¡± Lance explained, ¡°I have to go and relieve the rest of the club. Have a nice day!¡± Lance jogged away, passing where the girl was spying on us through the metal fence that separated this court from the one next door. She was nowhere to be seen now.

    ¡°I can¡¯t even shake someone¡¯s hand without something finding it grossly offensive,¡± I griped. Lance would never hear the end of it.

    Samantha cast a suspicious glance at where she was hiding, ¡°Seeing this makes me happy that I¡¯m not a celebrity like you.¡±

    ¡°Do you honestly believe that? You¡¯re so tall that the other girls use you like a landmark.¡±

    That was clearly news to her. She gasped and covered her mouth, ¡°R-Really?¡±

    ¡°And besides that ¨C you are a unique existence within these walls. The daughter of a farmer, tall, strong, and Goddess forbid, with blemishes on your skin. It¡¯s enough to give a sheltered lady the vapours.¡±

    She finally picked up on my dry sarcasm. There was an element of truth to it. Samantha had a particular reputation as being fiercely opinionated and headstrong. None of the bullying attempts seemed to faze her. Those who couldn¡¯t get their kicks from her lack of reaction moved on to easier targets. Now there were only a handful of extremely dedicated hecklers, who¡¯d invested too much time to back down without seeing her reaction.

    She titled her head, ¡°Are blemishes that rare?¡±

    I led her off of the court and towards the main building, ¡°Not particularly, but you will seldom see them buried beneath a thick layer of foundation.¡±

    Pubescent teenagers got spots, that was a fact of life. In my past existence, I was one of those unlucky kids with a face like pizza. Mercifully they cleared up by the time I hit twenty. It would have been very easy to recognise me as a hitman if not. Maria did not suffer so. She was perfect in every way, untethered from the harsh realities of growing up.

    ¡°What¡¯s the next club on your list?¡±

    Samantha snapped out of staring a hole through my head and stopped in place to check where we¡¯d wandered.

    ¡°Music. The music society should be meeting in a few minutes, and they keep the doors open so that people can observe their practice. We have to go to the theatre.¡±

    ¡°Lead the way, then.¡±

 Chapter 60

    Tennis was tough. I didn¡¯t join the club under any illusions about my prowess in other things coming to my rescue, but even with that in mind, I was getting completely dismantled by the more experienced members. My hand-eye coordination and fitness were both excellent ¨C but sending the ball where you wanted it was not something one could intuit. The points that my opponents scored came almost entirely via my returns landing outside of the lines.

    Not that my lack of tennis skill mattered to the girls surrounding the court. Maria Walston-Carter could make an amateur tennis match a must-see event. Every time I sent the ball astray, the girls cried out in protest, or gasped at the sight of a bead of sweat leaving my body. Lance, who was acting as our umpire, was not going to be swayed by their protests.

    The match came to an anti-climatic end as my opponent won on another misplaced swing. The girls continued to act as if I was the victor, even when I crossed over the net and shook their hand. Lance shooed away the audience in his usual soft tone of voice.

    ¡°Everyone, please don¡¯t spend the whole period watching Maria. We have to practice for the regionals!¡± There were some groans of discontent, but they complied and scattered to the four ends of the courts so that they could start their own matches.

    I walked over to the bleachers and grabbed a towel to dry the sweat from my face. Lance was in hot pursuit to speak with me about my first day as a member of the society. While he would never say to my face that he was happy about all the attention I brought, the expression he was making told me all I needed to know. The tennis society was the hottest ticket around now that my membership was well-known.

    ¡°You¡¯re a fast learner, Maria.¡±

    ¡°I pride myself on listening closely. Thank you for your assistance. It is very gracious of you.¡±

    ¡°I do the same for every new member of the society. During my first year, the society¡¯s president took me under his wing and showed me everything there was to know. I try to lead by example and extend the same experience to all of our members.¡±

    Lance was notable as the youngest president in the academy. Usually that position was handed down to the second-most senior member upon the president¡¯s graduation, though there were no specific rules holding them to that standard. All you needed was a nomination from the president and enough votes of confidence from the others. Lance must have ingratiated himself to the rest of the club during his first year. The direction he was taking the society was popular, and the idea of having a continuation of the previous leadership regime was appealing.

    There was a small pang of guilt inside me about misleading Lance to get close to Carides Franzheim. Lance was a good kid, as far as I knew. But how many people came and went from the society on a regular basis? He¡¯d probably forget all about me if I chose to leave in a few weeks. Ultimately ¨C it was better for everyone if this issue was nipped in the bud. The benefits outweighed stringing Lance along for a while.

    As for how joining the society would allow me to find Carides, that was a matter that required flexibility. A normal person would imagine that simply knowing someone or being in the same social circle as them wasn¡¯t good enough to get close to their family. The reality was that the world could be a small place if you tried hard enough. An invite to a party hosted by the family was what I had in mind.

    Nobles loved throwing parties for everything and anything; Marriage, quarterly profit reports, the birth of a child, them coming of age, new windows being installed into their manor. These were just a small handful of the motivations I¡¯d heard over the years. Spend enough time in the proximity of a noble and the invitation would come in due course. What else would they use their gigantic homes for if not for hosting parties every two minutes?

    With that said, the Escobarus affair meant that the proliferation of pesky parties had been slowed significantly. A lot of the students were worried about being targeted in a similar plot, a stunning display of false empathy for Felipe. They wished they were important enough to have their lives threatened. Calling off an engagement made them feel big.

    I sighed dramatically, ¡°I must improve my control. I can hardly hope to compete while sending the ball outside of the line in every rally.¡±

    ¡°That is always the area where the new members struggle the most. It¡¯s also the point where we see whether they have the patience to continue. I¡¯ve seen no less than ten applicants quit after becoming frustrated with it, and my senior claimed to have had a hundred come and go for the same reason.¡±

    He was aiming to end his tenure as president with less quitters on his record, but if he stuck with the job, he was going to be in charge for four or five years. The odds were stacked against him. I returned my racquet to the bag and left it on the cart they used to move equipment to and from the courts.

    ¡°Are you interested in coming with us for the regional tournament? We still have a few free spaces for people who are interested. I think it will be a good experience, even for someone new to the sport.¡±

    ¡°The regionals? That¡¯s very impressive.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s still a huge gap between the best student players and the professionals, but the academy has been a consistent presence in these tournaments for years. We have four members who¡¯ve successfully qualified.¡±

    ¡°Including you?¡±

    He chuckled, ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. I¡¯m rather ashamed to say ¨C but I was falling behind in my studies, so I focused my efforts on catching up. Tennis is fun, but I can¡¯t neglect the more tedious parts of attending the academy. I¡¯ll leave it to the others this time.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be ashamed of. There is only so much time in the day. I would have thought that an outing to the tournament would be booked out already.¡±

    ¡°We have a large number of seats available. There are no other events booked for that weekend, so all of the academy¡¯s carriages are open to transport us there and back.¡±

    Lance escorted me back to the centre court. A fierce practice match was underway between two of those male tournament contenders. I was unfamiliar with their names and faces, as they were from the fourth year.

    ¡°Lady Maria is so beautiful in her tennis clothes!¡± one of the girls gushed from behind us.

    ¡°Do they always do that?¡± Lance inquired under his breath.

    ¡°Yes. Every day.¡±

    ¡°And you told them to stop it?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Every day.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I could handle getting that much attention...¡±

    A shame. The Walston-Carter fanclub was always looking for applicants.

    We wrapped up the morning session and transported the equipment back to the sheds for storage. Samantha was waiting for me by the doors, having woken up and dropped by to see how things were going.

    ¡°Did you have fun?¡±

    ¡°It was entertaining enough. Lance invited me to the regional tournament that¡¯s being hosted in the city.¡±

    ¡°A date!¡±

    ¡°Hardly. I don¡¯t see much of a reason to go at the moment besides ingratiating myself with him and the other members. How is your society hunt going?¡±

    ¡°Hm. I dropped by the theatre society¡¯s rehearsal and spoke with some of them, and they¡¯d be happy to have a bigger girl to play certain roles. Am I really that big?¡±

    ¡°For a girl our age ¨C yes.¡±

    This was the second time Samantha had expressed incredulity about the topic. What the hell were they feeding the kids in her hometown so that she believed that her height was the norm? Mystical creatures were a real thing in this world, but a town filled with giants was still an unlikely discovery.

    ¡°Well, I hardly went to spend my halcyon years playing monsters. I¡¯d rather have a spot as the leading lady.¡±

    ¡°I never took you for a romantic.¡±

    Samantha clasped her hands together and spun on the ball of her foot, ¡°Every girl dreams of being whisked away by a handsome, wealthy prince.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a party pooper. You don¡¯t have to worry about that sort of thing anyway. You must have the pick of the lot. Plain girls like me have to work hard!¡±

    ¡°Plain,¡± I repeated sardonically, ¡°Plain. Plain.¡±

    Samantha became increasingly embarrassed each time I repeated the word. She finally had enough on my fifth repetition, holding out her hands and attempting to silence me.

    ¡°Okay! I get it. I¡¯m being too hard on myself. Please stop saying that.¡±

    Samantha didn¡¯t line up with the societal expectations about what a beautiful girl looked like, but makeup would allow her to fool even the pickiest noble. Aside from her sun-kissed complexion, everything else about her was perfectly suited to fit her spot as the protagonist. Pretty - but not in a way that precluded her from being bullied about the way she looked.

    Her reaction tickled my funny bone, so her exasperation only grew when I broke out into my characteristic laughter in response. Hopefully, it would make her think twice about being so pessimistic about herself in the future.

    <hr>

    Cordia was worried about what Lady Franzheim would say about the proceedings. If there was one thing she liked, it was for her private affairs to be kept private. She stringently kept a lock and key on all essential information entering and leaving the estate. Servants and aides who trafficked rumours were summarily dismissed and blacklisted from the industry. Not even the servant¡¯s union could stop her from doing so. Hopefully, the presentation of the beige folder she sought would pave over those cracks.

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    ¡°You were cutting it dreadfully close, Cordia. The deadline is not there for the sake of pressuring you. Our timeline will be forced to shift if we delay any further.¡±

    ¡°I share in your concerns, Lady Franzheim. I made every effort to secure these documents in a timely manner - but Caius presented me with a falsified list. I used our leverage to ¡®encourage¡¯ him to return to the house and do it again.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s compromised,¡± Carides snapped, ¡°Where did he get that fake list?¡±

    ¡°The names on it were accurate. I can only assume that the Social Democrats were trying to prevent leaks by placing decoys in important places.¡±

    ¡°What did you say to him once he gave you these?¡± she asked, holding the real articles in one hand.

    ¡°I did not see him.¡±

    ¡°I told you to get rid of him once the delivery was made.¡±

    Cordia bowed her head apologetically, ¡°He successfully retrieved the documents on his second try. I¡¯m afraid that he placed them beneath my apartment door while I was away.¡±

    She was unsure of how to describe it. It was both a pleasant and unpleasant surprise. Caius struck her as the unreliable type, and his attempts to deceive her during their last meeting were plain as day. A simple threat towards his critically ill sister was enough to grease the wheels. His decision not to meet her face-to-face was a wise one, though it did not prevent it from being a source of frustration. Were those threats a step too far?

    It was no good ruminating over what may have been. There was no way for her to go back and approach things differently now.

    ¡°Cordia, I trust your opinion on these matters ¨C do you believe that he will be an issue for us in the future?¡±

    ¡°He is too craven to stand against us directly. A thief like him was perfect for our purposes. Skilled enough to do what we ask, but too cowardly to take any unneeded action.¡±

    Cordia did not report to her employer about the mysterious woman who held her at gunpoint after that meeting. Her loyalty only went so far as to do what was demanded and nothing more. She knew what the reaction would be from the other plotters if they believed her to be compromised. A great many faces came and went without a word as to why.

    ¡°I want to know if we must sever him.¡±

    Cordia shook her head, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that that may not be possible. Caius delivered the documents on the final day before our deadline but didn¡¯t remain here to receive his payment. I suspect that he is already seeking to relocate himself outside of the city. Chasing him would be a great effort for little benefit.¡±

    Carides sighed, ¡°You understand that if that information leaks to the authorities ¨C we will all suffer the consequences? We have made it this far by preventing traitors from revealing such intelligence to the police.¡±

    ¡°I apologise, my Lady. It was my decision which led to this situation.¡±

    Carides shuffled through the pages of the party list, ¡°I suppose that having these documents is preferable to not possessing them at all, but I would like to see him dealt with. I do not expect to request your services for another matter in the near future, and it is better to be safe than sorry.¡±

    Cordia hid her frustration behind an impassive mask, ¡°If that is what you desire. I will make arrangements to locate and eliminate Caius. Is there anything else?¡±

    ¡°That is all. Thank you for your efforts, Cordia. We¡¯re one step closer to realising our dream.¡±

    Cordia bowed and left the study with a turnabout scowl. She would not forgive Caius for making a fool of her. Him neglecting to get his payment for the work was an unplanned variable. She would not make the same mistake again. Luckily ¨C all of the pieces were already in place.

    She just had to give them the word.

    <hr>

    Caius understood the risks that came with being close to Alice while her operation was underway. He was of two minds about what to do. He couldn¡¯t leave her side in the first few days after her operation with confidence. It was possible that her status would take a sudden turn for the worse.

    But they knew that she was his sister.

    The Doctor recommended that she spend a week on the ward to recover fully. There were deep cuts into her chest where the invasive procedure was performed. They could become infested and rotten with blight if proper care wasn¡¯t taken. Caius had no intention of spending any more time on the ward than he had to. He was calculating the risks. Alice would be in danger if he kept her there.

    Caius was renting a room in the nearby village to occupy while he waited. He stayed there for three days before the operation while keeping a low profile, and only emerged once the procedure was complete. He tucked a knife into his jacket for safety and tried to conceal his face using a pair of fake spectacles and a trilby.

    The walk to the sanatorium was foreboding for a variety of reasons. Alice¡¯s operation did come with a small chance of complication, or in the worst case, death. That was the natural risk that accompanied invasive surgery. Alice would not live for very long without it, so the choice was made easier for both of them.

    The other big issue on his mind was the other visitors. Families of the afflicted were allowed to visit during specific hours, or at any time if they were given permission from the nurses. They were very strict about handing out permissive notices. The easiest way to get one was for a family member to have completed their treatment.

    If the plotters knew his true identity and the location of his sister, it was possible that the people within the building were part of their scheme. With the papers delivered at the last possible moment so as to extend the clock ¨C there was now an ever-present threat that they would attempt to silence him.

    He couldn¡¯t trust any of them. Not the regulars, not the nurses; even after speaking with them at length about their own families. There was no measure of how deep the deception truly went. How long had they been waiting in the wings to see his part in the ploy stricken from the history books?

    He tucked his head and ascended the stone-laid driveway. The tall windows and artistically carved fa?ade felt more oppressive than ever. It was going to be difficult to convince them to release Alice early. They did not have the legal right to keep her if they did not feel she was in imminent danger, but litigating the exchange took time that he didn¡¯t have.

    Caius worked his brain into whipping up a backup plan. He was a master of escape, and his sister was not going to be the heaviest thing he¡¯d absconded with. It was a nice day. The windows were left wide open to clear out the air.

    All of the eyes in the reception turned to him without exception.

    A shiver ran down his spine. Malice hid beneath one of those friendly nods. His cynicism expected that the man he¡¯d bonded with over his terminally ill wife recently would reveal himself as the spy. He ignored them and approached the desk.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to see Alice.¡±

    She smiled, ¡°Ah. Alice is doing well. In fact ¨C she just woke up from the anaesthetic.¡±

    Caius kept his cool and signed his name into the visitor¡¯s log. The false name was intended to protect him from the police, but there was no concealing his connection to Alice from the medical staff. She was proud of him, always talking to complete strangers about how amazing her big brother was.

    When he entered the ward, he counted six brand-new faces. Two of them were confined to rest, and only one looked healthy enough to stand under their own strength. The other four were seated around the beds in silence.

    ¡°Brother!¡± Alice rasped.

    ¡°Hello Alice. Did the doctors do a good job?¡±

    Alice pulled the folds of her garment aside and revealed a hint of the scar that now ran down her stomach. It was covered in white gauze and tightly wrapped to keep it from opening again.

    ¡°It feels funny.¡±

    ¡°It will for a few days. They had to make you sleep using a special gas,¡± Caius explained.

    Alice nodded, ¡°I tried to use the bathroom, but couldn¡¯t. The nurse said that it was because of the anaesthetic.¡±

    Caius was impressed that she¡¯d learnt a long word like that. He reached out and cleaned up some stray strands of her hair. Alice had spent several days without being allowed to clean herself up in the washroom. Her hair was greasy and wild, her skin was covered in oil and sweat, and her mouth presumably felt the sting of going a week without being cleaned.

    ¡°Is everything else okay?¡±

    Alice nodded, ¡°The nurse said that I¡¯d feel better in a week or two, so I have to wait and see how it turns out. I¡¯m just happy that there¡¯s a chance I might leave soon.¡±

    ¡°As am I. It feels like you¡¯ve been in here for years. We can get a fresh start together. Do you have anywhere that you¡¯d like to go?¡±

    Alice pondered the question, ¡°One of the nurses showed me a postcard she got from her son! He lives in a town called Mannberg. It looked really pretty.¡±

    Mannberg was a popular tourist destination on the coast. It was famous for its beautiful sea cliffs and affordable prices. Caius visited once or twice for work. He¡¯d never considered making it their new home, but the more he thought about it the more it appealed to him. It was the perfect place for a fresh start.

    ¡°You know what? That sounds like a great idea. The fresh air will be good for your health too.¡±

    Alice smiled cheekily, having twisted her older brother¡¯s arm once again.

    The jovial discussion about future plans was almost enough to distract Caius from the anxiety that gnawed at him. The nurses would recommend several days of bed rest and observation before she could leave, but they needed to make themselves disappear as soon as possible.

    A flash of white from the doorway caught his eye.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to have a word with the Doctor. I¡¯ll be back in a moment.¡±

    Caius felt more than one set of eyes tracing his route back out of the room. The Doctor was in a hurry, because by the time Caius reached the corridor ¨C he was already moving around the next corner and out of sight. Caius pursued him, calling out his name, but he never reached him before being halted.

    The cold touch of a blade being held against his neck.

    He tensed up and stopped before he walked himself into the sharp edge. Cordia must have sent someone to kill him. She worked fast. It¡¯d only been two days since he delivered the documents to her.

    ¡°Miss Cordia is wondering why you never came to receive your payment,¡± the stranger whispered into his ear.

    ¡°Because I knew that this was going to happen,¡± he shot back. It was impossible to turn his head and get a view of who was holding him hostage. The killer tugged on the back of his suit jacket and dragged him towards the nearest unoccupied area.

    ¡°She was hurt by your lack of trust. Was this not a purely professional relationship?¡±

    ¡°Cut the crap. They sent you here to shut me up. That isn¡¯t professional ¨C it¡¯s zealotry.¡±

    The man scoffed, ¡°It¡¯s professional because I¡¯m getting paid. They promised me a bit of your cut to finish you off. So I suppose you gave me something to be thankful about.¡±

    Caius snapped his fingers. A bright flash engulfed the room and blinded his assailant. He grabbed his forearm and forced him away, slamming his hand against a nearby cabinet and forcing the knife out of his grasp. The man lashed out with a kick that sent Caius tumbling back towards the door, too far to stop him from grabbing it again.

    She shook the black spots from his eyes and motioned threateningly with it, ¡°We can do this in front of your sister, or where nobody can see. It¡¯s up to you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re one sick son of a bitch,¡± Caius growled.

    ¡°Hoh? What happened to that gentleman thief persona you were so attached to? The mask comes off ¨C and with it a cavalcade of profanity from a man too na?ve to know when he is drowning.¡±

    ¡°Na?ve? You¡¯re the one who¡¯s doing the dirty work here. They¡¯ll be rid of you soon enough.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that chance, thank you very much.¡±

    Caius leapt into action, grabbing a piece of gauze from the table to his left and tossing it through the air at his attacker. A single spark of magic was enough to make it catch light in a somewhat explosive fashion, startling the assassin and forcing him to cover his face. In truth ¨C it was completely harmless, but it gave Caius the perfect opportunity to turn tail and run for it.

    He knew how to get out of a sticky situation, and bar brawls were nothing foreign to him, but he was no fighter. All he had were party tricks, self-taught and limited in application. They were enough to break into a house or escape pursuit, and nothing more.

    He darted down the corridor to try and reach the ward, but another man billowed through the doors and skidded to a halt in front of him, intent on tangling him up and dragging him down to the floor. Caius refused to stop. He charged at him and slid between his legs, knocking him down in the process. They were going to have to try harder than that.

    The commotion had already caught the attention of bystanders and medical staff alike. They froze in place and observed the sight of the guests launching into a brawl outside of the wards.

    ¡°Alice! I think it¡¯s about time we left!¡± he cried.

    The young girl sat up in shock, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Some bad men are trying to hurt us. Let¡¯s go!¡±

    Caius didn¡¯t wait to listen to any protestations from the nurses or Alice. He bundled her up into the sheets, grabbed her bag of belongings, and immediately broke for the window. A deafening bang rang out, a bullet whizzing past the pair and striking a bag of fluids.

    ¡°He¡¯s getting away, you bloody idiot!¡±

    The gunman attempted to mantle the window and make chase, but his lack of diligence cost him dearly. The spilt IV fluid caused him to lose his footing. He slipped backwards and cracked his head against the tiled floor, knocking him out briefly. His partner ignored his distress and used him as a stepping stone to avoid a similar situation. Caius and his sister were already fading into the distance.

    He clenched his teeth and gave chase.

 Chapter 61

    ¡°Damn it all,¡± Caius grunted. Every second spent running for his life was another second in which Alice¡¯s condition could potentially worsen. There were already three men waiting outside of the hostel where he was staying, which meant that they needed to find a new hiding place.

    The town was lightly populated. The only things to be found for miles around were noble estates and sprawling farms. Caius could not fade away into a crowd or disappear through an alleyway.

    His feet moved without his control. Getting as far away from his pursuers as humanly possible was the most important thing at that moment. He almost tipped over while sliding down into a flood ditch dug into the side of the road, but used all of his strength to keep Alice out of the mud.

    He moved quickly and carefully ¨C concealing his form behind rows of bushes and stone walls. These divisions between the fields were his lifeline. With his mind on autopilot and the extreme stress of trying to protect his sister, there was only one place he would end up.

    The Walston-Carter estate.

    He¡¯d been running for nearly an hour straight without rest. His fog-addled mind finally cleared thanks to a faint sense of familiarity with the area he found himself in. The tall walls with spiked iron points, and lavish gardens which lay tantalizing out of sight. He¡¯d been here a few days before to meet with Maria.

    Caius switched his grip on Alice¡¯s body so that he could use his other hand. The fence that allowed entry from the rear was not as secure as the one at the front. All he had to do was fill the mechanism with some energy and melt it. The thin piece of metal that held it shut soon gave way with a firm tug on the bars. Destructive methods left too much evidence to be used in calmer circumstances, but he was in a hurry.

    Through the garden he went. There were very few people tending to it at this time of day, so a long route around the outside edge and past the pond kept him out of eyesight. Once he reached the back of the house ¨C he realised that the next steps would be much riskier.

    Getting Alice into a warm bed was essential. She couldn¡¯t wait this out in the garden like he could. The backdoor onto the patio was left open to let fresh air inside. He slipped through the curtains and made a mad dash for the stairs. His good fortune meant that he made it almost all the way to the upper floor¡¯s residential wing.

    Almost.

    ¡°Hey! What are you doing?¡± a voice barked. Caius turned to face the interloper. It was Franklin, Maria¡¯s personal assistant. They¡¯d only met briefly during the carriage ride down to the city, but they recognised one another.

    ¡°Sir Franklin,¡± Caius panted, ¡°May we speak in private?¡±

    He cast a glance back and sighed. Franklin hurried Caius and Alice into the nearest vacant guest room, slamming the door shut and locking it from the inside. Happy that Franklin didn¡¯t immediately scream for help, Caius laid his unconscious sister on the bed and held out his hands to make himself appear harmless.

    Franklin nodded towards him, ¡°You¡¯re that fellow who Maria brought over, and who is this?¡±

    ¡°This is my sister, Alice. Maria gave me a hand with something a few days ago.

    ¡°And what are you doing in the house?¡±

    ¡°I... I broke in,¡± Caius admitted haplessly, ¡°We needed somewhere to hide ¨C and this was the only place I could think of.¡±

    Franklin grimaced and clutched his head, ¡°I told them to fix the gaps in the fence already. Did Maria give you permission to do this?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s rude to use her home as a hiding place without her consent?¡±

    ¡°I understand fully how presumptuous this is of me, if not criminal. Do as you please, but the only thing I ask of you is to let Alice stay here for a few days while she recovers. She¡¯s just had an operation and needs time to rest.¡±

    Franklin approached the bed and studied her. The thick dressing on her stomach could be seen through her gown. This was a difficult situation. Allowing a stranger onto the grounds was risky. He would be the one liable if they did something to the other staff members or made away with a valuable item. If Maria and her Father were home there would be no question that they could not remain.

    ¡°This is hardly an appropriate place for someone to recover from an operation. We have a nurse on staff just in case, but she isn¡¯t trained to the extent that a Doctor would be. What can we do if she starts to struggle?¡±

    Caius shook his head, ¡°I know that! I didn¡¯t want to take her out of there, but someone there was leaking information to some very bad people. It¡¯s too dangerous to keep her there now.¡±

    ¡°Dangerous? What in the Goddess¡¯ name have you been doing; did they see you come here?¡±

    ¡°No. I shook them.¡±

    Franklin grimaced, ¡°This is starting to sound more suspect by the second. I need some clear answers from you. What did you do to earn their ire?¡±

    Caius closed his eyes, ¡°I¡¯m a thief. A criminal, whatever you¡¯d like to say. A small group of people offered me enough money to secure Alice¡¯s well-being. Like the fool I was ¨C I accepted their conditions without thinking about what that may mean for me.¡±

    ¡°And now they¡¯re trying to kill you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯ve done many a thing that I am not proud of, but I¡¯d sooner suffer a thousand damnations than let anything happen to Alice. It is your choice. You may ask me to leave and face my fate, and I will do as you ask.¡±

    Franklin crossed his arms and thought about what Maria would do. She must have known about his history when associating with him in the city. Maria was perceptive beyond her years. It was impossible to pull the wool over her eyes. What would she need a thief for? That was the real question at the heart of this matter.

    If Maria was associating with him, it was unlikely that she wanted him to die for whatever reason. He would simply keep a closer eye on the pair of them and confine them to the room. Maria could be informed through a letter and hand down her own judgement on the matter.

    ¡°Maria would have my head on a pike if I allowed a young girl to die in these circumstances. You can stay for now, but the door is being locked from the outside. I want you to stay in here, and don¡¯t show yourself to the staff.¡±

    That was more than Caius was expecting. He bowed deeply, ¡°Thank you. I mean it. Thank you so much.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll bring some medical supplies from the nurse, and deliver food and water when you need it.¡±

    Caius had another thing to say before Franklin could leave, ¡°Please do tell Maria that I¡¯m here. There¡¯s something we may have to speak about.¡±

    ¡°I will. Keep an eye on your sister.¡±

    The door clicked shut. Caius finally rose to his feet again and exhaled the breath he was holding. This was unbelievable to him. Maria¡¯s servant trusted him enough to let him stay? He took a chair from the seating area and placed it next to the bed. Alice was starting to wake up from the shock.

    ¡°Brother, where are we?¡± she groaned.

    ¡°A safe place ¨C I hope.¡±

    Alice stared at the wooden posts that surrounded her on all sides, before scowling. If she could sit up under her own power, she would have. Now that the chaos of the chase was done, she could put the pieces together of what she knew. Caius had gotten himself into a terrible quandary again!

    ¡°Brother,¡± she spoke gravely, ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t do something silly just for me.¡±

    Caius turned his head, ¡°You know me. I would never do anything for the sake of entertaining myself.¡±

    ¡°Brother!¡±

    ¡°We needed the money. I couldn¡¯t pay for that operation, you know that.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t want you to do anything dangerous,¡± Alice reiterated, ¡°I thought we were past this!¡±

    ¡°One last job, that¡¯s what I told myself. Enough money to fix you up, get a new place, and start that life we were always talking about. I¡¯m an idiot. I¡¯m the biggest idiot around.¡±

    The harsh truth was that they were not ¡®past this,¡¯ not even close. Caius could not earn enough money to pay for her surgery through labour alone. The cost they demanded was extortionate ¨C stated in the knowledge that the needy and desperate would pay any price to save a family member they cared about. People would find that money, or they would die.

    Caius was intelligent, he was skilled, he could have found a job to provide for both of them with ease, but that was not enough. Alice would have been long dead had he hung up his thieving boots and walked gently into the normal life of another man. It was not a question of pride. While the previous Caius taught him everything he knew, it was always predicated in a firm belief that being a thief was not a living.

    ¡°Once something better comes along, it¡¯s time to give it up.¡±

    He always repeated that to him before every lesson. It was the creed which he stuck to through thick and thin, and why the previous Caius retired to live the life of a clockmaker in the city. He was always good with small mechanisms, and once he had the money to open his own shop, he earned enough to live comfortably without risking his freedom.

    Even getting him to teach Caius what he knew was difficult. There was no emotional attachment to the skills, the name, or the persona. Caius Senior would have been happy to let the myth die forgotten, but after meeting Caius and his sister, he realised that it would be a waste to let them go without passing it on. What right did he have to say that Caius should tread a more noble path?  The noble path was reserved for those who could afford to walk it.

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    ¡°The old man would be furious with me for this,¡± Caius admitted, ¡°I can see it now. The red face and strained whiskers...¡±

    Alice sat back against the headboard, ¡°You told me that you stopped doing this.¡±

    ¡°I did, for the most part, but then your condition got worse and worse, and they started demanding even more from me. I had to fall back on old habits just to keep you there. I didn¡¯t want you to worry, with your condition and all.¡±

    But now all of that stress was unloaded at the same time. Caius was unsure as to whether that was a preferable outcome. Anything that could jeopardize her health in the long term was to be avoided. Now things were turned on their head, there were people out there trying to quickly bury them six feet under.

    ¡°I¡¯m really happy that you paid for the operation, but what are we going to do? Who are those people?¡± Alice asked.

    Caius sensed it was time for honesty, ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure, but an acquaintance of mine believes that they¡¯re a group of monarchists trying to unsteady the government.¡±

    Alice tilted her head to one side ¨C she didn¡¯t understand a word of it.

    Caius nodded, ¡°Okay. They really like the King. They want him to be in charge of everything like he used to.¡±

    Alice¡¯s mouth opened, ¡°Ooooh. I see!¡±

    ¡°Is that the case?¡± Franklin asked, stepping through the door with a tray in hand.

    Caius frowned, ¡°I¡¯m not sure. They¡¯re clearly violent enough to try and kill us just for knowing about them.¡±

    Franklin placed it beside the bed and offered Alice a glass of water; ¡°And what does this have to do with Maria?¡±

    ¡°She caught me trying to get my hands on the Liberal Democrat¡¯s party standing list.¡±

    His eyes widened, ¡°And that list includes Sir Clemens! Did this happen at the party?¡±

    ¡°Yes. She caught me in his office and warded me away.¡±

    Leaving it up to Franklin¡¯s imagination was a bad idea. He immediately pictured the terrifying visage of his ward freezing Caius in place with her presence, and not the violent brawl that actually occurred. ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t bring any harm to the young lady!¡± he gasped.

    Caius laughed out loud, ¡°You couldn¡¯t be further from the mark on that one. I doubt I could even bruise her if things came to that.¡± She¡¯d thoroughly outplayed him at every point of their encounter, exploiting her personal strengths and the possibility of capture to wrap him around her little finger. Where she learned to fight was a profound mystery.

    ¡°So, what did the young master do then?¡±

    ¡°She let me off the hook in exchange for some information. That¡¯s why we went into the city on that evening.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t turn you in?¡±

    ¡°She said that she¡¯d rather handle the matter herself. I don¡¯t believe there would be much for the police to investigate. At this stage, she knows more about the scheme than I ever did.¡±

    Franklin stroked his chin and considered what the odd stranger was telling him. Maria found him in the middle of a criminal act and refused to hand him over to the guards? He would need to confirm this tale with the lady herself before reaching any conclusions.

    ¡°But why would she decide to handle this matter herself? I know Lady Maria better than anyone ¨C and she much prefers to maintain her solitude.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps she sought to protect Sir Clemens from harm?¡± Caius offered.

    ¡°Hm. Yes. That would make sense.¡±

    Caius, as a thief, did not present an active threat to Clemens during the party. The potential of a future attack by these monarchists was of much greater concern. Lady Maria¡¯s famous forward-thinking was in play once again. She rarely gave him a reason to doubt her logical thinking. Franklin was starting to get a clearer picture.

    ¡°I do appreciate your honesty in this matter. I will contact Lady Maria and ask her for confirmation. Until then, please remain here and keep a low profile. We can hardly afford to have those ruffians follow you onto the estate.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Thank you very much.¡±

    Franklin left to pen his letter to Maria.

    Caius exhaled, ¡°I¡¯m surprised that he¡¯s being so reasonable about finding two complete strangers in one of the bedrooms.¡±

    Alice smiled, ¡°He must feel sorry for me. What kind of boorish man would throw a poor, innocent girl to the wolves?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing innocent about the way you say that.¡±

    Caius reached out and took the second glass of water for his own consumption. Everything would hinge on Maria¡¯s response, but at least for the moment, they could relax in the knowledge that the assassins would not so easily be able to find them nestled away on such a huge estate.

    It was just as well; his legs weren¡¯t able to handle any more running.

    <hr>

    Samantha must have been mightily confused about why I was shoving a bunch of things into my suitcase and preparing to leave for the weekend. Returning to the manor took a few hours, hours which could have been spent studying or relaxing instead of commuting.

    I wish I had that luxury ¨C but the last thing I expected to receive in the mail the morning before was a letter from Franklin revealing that a beleaguered Caius Willow and his younger sister had snuck onto the estate, claiming to have been chased there by a gang of killers. This was far faster than I had anticipated from my mental math of the situation.

    ¡°Did something urgent come up?¡± Samantha asked from the doorway.

    ¡°Yes. I have to return to the manor for a day or two and address an issue that has arisen. I wasn¡¯t planning on returning to the manor until our next holiday.¡±

    Samantha turned pensive, ¡°A shame. I was hoping that I could visit and see your home for myself.¡±

    ¡°Is it really that interesting? If you¡¯ve seen one noble manor ¨C you¡¯ve seen all of them. Ours is no exception.¡±

    ¡°The layout may be similar, but every home is shaped by the people who live in it. You must have your own traditions and preferences that make it special. Furthermore, I didn¡¯t get much of a chance to explore the Bookers¡¯ manor before the attack started.¡±

    I did not have a specific objection to Samantha seeing the mansion. Just as I said, there was nothing particularly interesting about it, and nothing that I wanted to cover up from outsiders. The problem was that I was not going back to spend the weekend in comfort. Caius was there, which meant that the situation could take a very sudden turn for the dangerous. He was being pursued by the monarchists.

    ¡°I have a feeling that this visit will be dangerous,¡± I said honestly, ¡°I would not like to put you into the line of fire if there is no need for it.¡±

    ¡°Could a visit to your own home really be so deadly?¡±

    ¡°Under normal circumstances, no. But you and I both know from experience that there is no such thing as a simple matter when I become involved. A spell of dour luck is due.¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°It¡¯s not like a bloody weather pattern.¡±

    I slammed the lid of my trunk shut and stood up, ¡°If you really, really want to come and spend the day at my home, I can bring you, but we won¡¯t be staying for any longer than necessary. You¡¯ll need to pack some clothes for an overnight stay. I won¡¯t be held responsible for what happens while we¡¯re there.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s eyes lit up like the fourth of July, ¡°A sleepover?¡±

    Before I could correct her, she was already running back to her own room to grab some clean clothes and underwear. I should have known that she¡¯d leap headfirst into this even with my warnings. She was desperate to spend time with me and I¡¯d handed her the perfect opportunity to do so.

    I put the finishing touches on my preparations, and Samantha soon returned with a giddy smile on her face. I failed to see what was so exciting about dropping by my house for a single night. Was it the prospect of experiencing the noble lifestyle for real?

    ¡°I love sleepovers,¡± Samantha declared with authority, ¡°We used to have them all the time back in my hometown. It¡¯s a great way to make friends!¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t much of a sleepover with two people.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re mistaken, Maria. There is no minimum, and no limit, to the number of people who can participate. All it demands is that we share the same room and spend the night.¡±

    ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t expecting me to arrange entertainment for us. This is a family business matter. We will swing by, solve the problem, and then return here to the campus.¡±

    Samantha crossed her arms and glowered at me, ¡°You¡¯re always such a party pooper. Would it hurt to lighten up a little?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Our discussion attracted the attention of Claude, who was passing by. He poked his head over Samantha¡¯s shoulder and spied on what we were up to.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    Samantha moved further into the room to give him space, ¡°Maria has invited me to a sleepover at her house.¡±

    ¡°She invited herself,¡± I clarified, ¡°I¡¯m hardly going back for recreational purposes. Some urgent business has arisen that I must attend to.¡±

    Claude was undoubtedly inferring the worst possible outcome based on that statement. What devious schemes could I be hatching, or what great crimes had need of being covered up by a personal visit from yours truly?

    ¡°Oh, will you be back for the start of the week?¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°Yes. Maria only intends to stay for a single night.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you got so friendly with one another. She was telling you to shove it when you talked for the first time. Is she blackmailing you?¡± he asked.

    Samantha pushed him out of the room, ¡°I am not blackmailing her. Stop sticking your nose into other people¡¯s business.¡± That was rich coming from her. Claude was banished from the room with a slam of the door. Samantha turned to me with a giddy smile, ¡°Oh. I can¡¯t wait to see your house!¡±

    I packed away the other leftover items into their hiding places to save myself the work when I returned to the campus. Samantha got comfortable on the edge of my bed and swung her legs idly back and forth.

    ¡°You do understand that this is the kind of business that I can¡¯t speak of with him around? It¡¯s potentially dangerous.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said that you were trying to avoid situations like that.¡±

    ¡°I am, I tried to get ahead of this problem before it got worse ¨C but it seems that I was mistaken in believing that matters were tidied away. The fellows responsible are more reckless than I imagined. They started shooting inside a sanatorium. The police are already investigating.¡±

    It hadn¡¯t hit the national papers yet, but the local newsagents were sure to propagate the story far and wide. Shootings happened regularly, but this one was special; it was much more odious to start a gunfight around sick and injured patients. It would rub people the wrong way and inflame their sense of righteous outrage.

    It was catnip for publishers because angry people would keep buying papers. The public would soon come to feel that matters were getting out of hand. A spate of major violent incidents was damaging the government¡¯s authority and popularity.

    ¡°What is this about, exactly?¡±

    Samantha kept my secrets well enough, so I explained some of the context to her.

    ¡°I believe it¡¯s connected to the theft of Adrian¡¯s watch. The same thief was at a garden party hosted by my uncle a week ago, trying to make away with a list of the candidates standing for election on the Social Democratic ticket. It seems that they have violent intent. I needn¡¯t say how troublesome it would be for all if they launched a series of attacks on them.¡±

    ¡°Hm. But what do they need Adrian¡¯s watch for?¡±

    ¡°That is what I would like to know. Adrian is remaining tight-lipped about what the watch can do. I suspect that it possesses a magical power that the monarchists want.¡±

    ¡°So what happened to the thief?¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t know anything, so I let him go and follow the person who hired him. She pleaded ignorance ¨C but I made sure to take as many of her documents with me as I could.¡±

    The documents primarily consisted of correspondence between Cordia, her boss, and Caius. The boss was smart enough to keep their name and seal off the incriminating letters, but comparing their handwriting to another example would unmask them in an instant. Samantha knew better than to ask how I took those documents, moving on promptly to the next topic.

    ¡°The thief in question was at the sanatorium when the attack occurred, and he claimed to Franklin that they were trying to kill him. He¡¯s hiding in one of our guest rooms. I hope he¡¯s willing to part with more information now that the stakes have been raised.¡±

    Samantha had another observation, ¡°Is it really okay for you to be handling this kind of stuff? Reporting it to the police would be better than putting yourself at risk trying to crack the case.¡±

    ¡°I hand those letters to the police and they will bury them so deep that they¡¯ll never see the light of day again. This is a noble conspiracy. There is no circumstance in which they will investigate if the only victims are lower-class civilians.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re bound to-¡±

    I cut her off, ¡°They¡¯re bound to whatever their bosses tell them. The police will not risk stepping on any toes if they can help it. I would much rather have them deal with matters, but they will not. Ergo ¨C I am the only one positioned to solve this problem. I am not going to allow them to kill my Uncle in pursuit of power.¡±

    Samantha wanted so desperately to argue, but she thought twice. This was the first time she¡¯d ever heard me so passionate about something. I saw this as nothing more than an inevitability, but she misinterpreted it as familial affection. I was going to be dragged into this no matter what, so I¡¯d rather do it on my own terms this time around.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll help you in any way I can,¡± Samantha declared, hand on heart.

    Girls shouldn¡¯t make promises they can¡¯t keep. Once the bullets started flying I¡¯d see just how truthful she was being.

 Chapter 62

    Samantha hitched a ride on the carriage and followed me back to the estate. There was going to be no time for pleasantries. The very first thing I was going to do once I walked through the doors was find where Caius and his sister were hidden, to get their side of the story. Samantha was still unsure about the specifics, but she soon distracted herself by admiring the exterior of the house and the gardens that surrounded it.

    ¡°Wow! This place is amazing!¡±

    ¡°As I said before, this is every noble estate from here to the coast. They all hire the same architects and gardeners. And let me say - it loses its lustre once you¡¯re forced to walk for ten minutes to get anywhere.¡±

    ¡°I never thought about it that way.¡±

    ¡°My Father has several staff who are dedicated to cleaning and maintaining rooms that we don¡¯t use for anything,¡± I scoffed. Samantha followed me up the steps to the front doors.

    The lobby was equally enrapturing to her. She dashed from painting to painting, studying them in detail before doing the same to the statues. I left my luggage by the door for later and met Franklin at the foot of the main staircase.

    ¡°Thank you for informing me of their arrival promptly, Franklin.¡±

    He frowned, ¡°I do hope that you aren¡¯t getting involved with an uncouth lot. It is not my place to dictate what you can and cannot do ¨C but your Father did ask me to keep an eye on you.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate what you do for me,¡± I replied, ¡°I will take your opinion into consideration.¡±

    But not really.

    Samantha finally returned to my side. I was still hesitant to involve her in this business. She wouldn¡¯t be scared away by the potential dangers, after all, she had resolved to befriend the most dangerous schoolgirl in the world. Once we reached the door to one of the guest rooms, I realised that Caius must have slipped inside while the staff were in the middle of their rotation.

    ¡°You were lucky to stumble across him when you did,¡± I commented to Franklin.

    ¡°I was one of the only servants doing the rounds, and it was hard to miss a grown man with a girl in his arms. Would you like for me to do anything before you speak with them?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    I knocked on the door thrice and pulled it open. Caius was sitting next to the bed, looking like a tired wreck. I would too if I were attempting to keep an ill family member from being killed.

    ¡°Maria,¡± he groaned, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you again so soon.¡±

    ¡°Given the urgency of our business ¨C it¡¯s only right that I used my weekend to visit and speak with you. Franklin. Leave us.¡±

    Franklin did as I demanded and stepped out with a deferential bow.

    ¡°I want you to tell me everything that happened after we parted ways, and spare no detail.¡±

    Caius sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, ¡°Very well.¡±

    Caius¡¯ story was long and twisted but mainly centred around his relationship with Cordia. She¡¯d approached him after hearing stories about his work for other clients, breaking into places he wasn¡¯t meant to be and making away with valuable items. Those were the skills that she was looking for.

    Caius was sceptical of her offer at the time. It was the most money he¡¯d ever seen from one contract, and that was cause for concern. His need for cash to pay for Alice¡¯s medical bills pushed him into accepting it - regardless of his personal feelings on the matter.

    Cordia kept him at arm¡¯s length for the duration of their contact. She revealed few details about her employer or the reasoning behind the jobs demanded of him. That was not unusual, but the money, and the air she gave off meant that he was trying to be more aware.

    I caught him trying to steal the party register. After I left, he returned to Clemens¡¯ home and stole the real one, leaving it for as long as possible before delivering it to the drop-off location without Cordia¡¯s knowledge. He couldn¡¯t bring Alice out of the hospital before her operation was complete, but they were threatening to kill her at the same time.

    When Caius returned to discharge her ¨C they launched an attack and he fled here.

    ¡°What a terrible damn mess you¡¯ve walked into,¡± I commented.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to choose your home specifically, but since I was in the area and it was the only place I¡¯d visited before...¡±

    ¡°I am not here to criticise your choice of escape route, Caius.¡±

    Samantha butted in, ¡°Wait, so this is the bloke who stole Adrian¡¯s watch?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And you knew his identity the whole time?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°Turning him in would do us no favours. He doesn¡¯t know what the watch is for, nor does he know the names and faces of any of the plotters responsible for this chaos.¡±

    Caius stood from his seat and tilted his head, ¡°I¡¯d like to apologise for my duplicity. You offered me a second chance and I spat it in your face like a petulant child. You were right. They never had any intention of letting us go, and now they have the candidate register.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you,¡± I revealed. Caius breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°When one is faced with a difficult decision, they will always take the path that they feel is right. You did what you did to protect your sister from harm, just as I have acted to protect my uncle.¡±

    Caius sat back down and took a moment to consider what I¡¯d said. Alice was staring at me from beneath the blankets, holding them up to her mouth like a shield. She bore a striking resemblance to me. I recalled that Caius mentioned something along those lines during our trip to the city.

    ¡°Are you my brother¡¯s friend?¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°Friend is a little strong. We¡¯re acquaintances.¡±

    She dropped her guard a tad and took a closer look at me.

    ¡°You¡¯re really pretty!¡±

    Samantha snickered, ¡°Isn¡¯t she? All of the boys at the academy are obsessed with her.¡±

    I steered things back on track before they could mock me any further, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you learnt anything of use during your ordeal?¡±

    Caius shook his head, ¡°They nary said a word to me. I delivered the documents to the post-box on the last day, and the next time we met, they were trying to kill me. I should have listened. It was too dangerous to keep Alice there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d recommend taking what money you have left and leaving here entirely. You need to create some distance.¡±

    Caius frowned, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that we can¡¯t do that. These folks are out for blood. They won¡¯t be satisfied until both I and Alice are dead. The only way for us to be safe is for their organisation to be brought down.¡±

    ¡°And how do you suppose we can do that?¡±

    He didn¡¯t know. He remained silent and stared at his feet.

    Samantha asked for clarification, ¡°So these monarchists are trying to attack the Social Democratic party?¡±

    ¡°That seems to be the case. The Social Democratic party is one of the key coalition partners for the Republicans in parliament, and they¡¯ve been gaining popularity lately thanks to their charismatic leadership. Assassinating them will damage them at the polls and make it more difficult for the Republicans to assume control.¡±

    ¡°Surely people will see through such a scheme?¡± she offered.

    ¡°In an ideal world, people would vote based on their principles, but for every person who remains true to their ideals there are two others who are commanded by the charisma of the respective candidates.¡±

    Caius shook his head, ¡°And even if the vote continues, having several leading members of the Republican wing murdered is bound to cause instability. The damage will be much greater than we can imagine. These fiends desire to feed from the fire of conflict and come out the victors.¡±

    ¡°We cannot rule out the possibility that other parties will be targeted too,¡± I mused, ¡°There are more documents like the ones you stole. More thieves and more plots must be in the making. The only way to stop them now is to unmask the conspirators.¡±

    ¡°My testimony is not worth the effort, Cordia will keep her silence even if we somehow find a way to capture her.¡±

    That was true. Caius didn¡¯t know anything of use, and the police would just arrest him for the break-in at the academy. An open and shut case, but not one that would assist in collapsing the conspiracy he was a part of. Our target needed to be someone higher on the food chain than him or Cordia.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to get close to one of the Franzheims. Franklin told me that Cordia was working for them.¡±

    Caius nodded, ¡°Smart. You may have to engage in some gossip-mongering if you wish to find out what we need to know.¡±

    I paused, ¡°We?¡±

    Caius smirked, ¡°I can hardly shirk responsibility now. It¡¯s my fault that they have the party list, and they¡¯re trying to kill us. Allow me to use my numerous skills and aid you in this task.¡±

    Caius had built scant trust between us with his deception. His loyalty lay firmly with himself and his sister. He was motivated by a desire to keep her safe, but whether the conspiracy threatened her to that extent was another question. On the other hand, part of the blame lay with me.

    I did tell Clemens that a stranger was poking around by his office, but he clearly wasn¡¯t alarmed by that. The documents were in the exact same place as before. If I¡¯d just insisted more strongly on him doing something to secure them, we wouldn¡¯t be in this position. Keeping my cover as Maria forced me to make tough decisions. On this occasion it was my loss; I misjudged the risk.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°And don¡¯t forget about me,¡± Samantha added.

    ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t get involved in this,¡± I warned her.

    ¡°Why not? It sounds to me like you need a hand. I¡¯m happy to help.¡±

    Samantha did not have any experience with subterfuge, fighting, or thievery. I struggled to think of anything that she had that could be used. Samantha picked up on it right away.

    ¡°And don¡¯t give me that look! I can be helpful too, and if things get too dangerous I can back away and let you handle it.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes you won¡¯t have time to make that decision, Samantha.¡±

    Disengaging from a dangerous situation was a privilege, not a right. A bullet could travel faster than a pair of human legs, and none of us could predict where events would lead. The cruelty of life was randomness. Innocent folks die for no real purpose every day, all over the world. Managing your own sense of risk is the only true control one can exert.

    ¡°Or perhaps you could teach me a thing or two before we get started?¡±

    So that was her angle.

    ¡°Goddess help me,¡± I groaned. The girl couldn¡¯t keep up with me during the morning run. Tasks more advanced than that were bound to chafe her limits.

    For now ¨C we had little information to go on. My only lead was that Cordia worked for the Franzheim family and that she was too stupid to use a pseudonym when engaging in criminal activity. An invitation to Lance¡¯s social circle was at present the only constructive step I could see on the horizon.

    ¡°You needn¡¯t agree to my offer, Maria. I can take my own measures regardless. First, I need to collect more information about Cordia and her employers. I¡¯m very good at gathering intelligence. It¡¯s up to you if you want to hear my findings.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll wait and see,¡± I said ¨C splitting the matter halfway, ¡°You can remain here at the estate as our guests until this matter is dealt with.¡±

    Alice cheered, ¡°Yay! We get to stay in this big house!¡±

    It was a lot more comfortable than a sanatorium. Samantha and I left the room to speak in private, but Franklin remained nearby to speak with me.

    ¡°My Lady, I do hope that you aren¡¯t taking any reckless action here. Why not simply report this matter to the police?¡±

    I scoffed, ¡°You know as well as I do that reporting this to the police will do nothing. We have no evidence to start an investigation, and those who we are trifling with have significant influence. How else do we explain their attack at the sanatorium? They must have eyes and ears everywhere. Caius was keeping Alice¡¯s location a closely guarded secret.¡±

    ¡°But perhaps if you use your pull as the first daughter of the Walston-Carter family...¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°Where would they begin their inquiries? Cordia will plead ignorance to her involvement, and the men who attacked Caius will be kept at a distance so as to protect the men in charge. That is always the problem with the authorities, they won¡¯t act until there is clear evidence of a crime being committed.¡±

    Franklin was plum out of suggestions, or perhaps he caught on to the fact that I was not going to change my mind no matter what he said. He bowed and left to attend to the rest of the day¡¯s business.

    We moved to my own room and locked the door. I sighed and sat down on one of the chairs by the window, with Samantha in pursuit. She took a second to admire the d¨¦cor of my chambers before joining me, claiming a spot on the couch.

    ¡°Is there any particular reason you want to be involved in this?¡± I asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re friends, and I don¡¯t feel right sitting back and letting you handle everything.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to be involved,¡± I said firmly, ¡°There¡¯s no reason for you to trouble yourself with our business.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s smile fell, ¡°Ah. I see how it is. You don¡¯t trust the country bumpkin with your noble affairs.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing about this that a farmgirl cannot understand. Nobles submit to violent and base behaviour for their own purposes all the time. My concern is that you aren¡¯t equipped to defend yourself if the worst should happen.¡±

    ¡°Then teach me.¡±

    ¡°Teaching you anything that I know would be an act of malice, not one done between friends. I am certain that you would be capable of following my instructions, yet the largest question has yet to be answered. Are you willing to engage in violence, to kill?¡±

    Samantha leaned back on the couch and thought about my question. Was she really prepared to make that leap? This was a dangerous situation. Jumping in without the willingness to do whatever was necessary was a dumb risk to take. Killing another person was not something to take lightly. That sounded obvious to an outsider ¨C but the truth was even more severe than what they may expect.

    ¡°Why do you kill?¡± Samantha asked. What a profound philosophical inquiry that was.

    ¡°Prier was the first person I¡¯ve killed,¡± I said. It was technically true, but not in line with the main thrust of our conversation.

    ¡°But why?¡±

    ¡°He tried to kill me and Felipe.¡±

    Samantha was desperate to know more about why I was a killer; what background could possibly lead to a young lady of status knowing how to do these things ¨C but there was also an understanding from her that I was not going to share it without an elevated level of trust of credulity. It was funny. I spent so much of my time trying to cover up the truth, but now I couldn¡¯t readily offer it to her and have her accept it as is.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d be able to kill someone, no.¡±

    Samantha concluded that resolutely.

    ¡°I appreciate the honesty. In an ideal world, nobody would have to think about that question, but we don¡¯t live in one. I mean it when I say that taking a life places an immense burden onto your shoulders. It is a memory that festers like a rotting wound, no matter the distance from the act itself.¡±

    ¡°I knew you cared.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say the same to anyone, regardless of our relationship. I am willing to show you some self-defence techniques and how to condition yourself, but I will not cross that red line without a good reason.¡±

    ¡°I thought helping you was a good reason.¡±

    ¡°Sam.¡±

    She jolted up as I used a shortened version of her name in stark contrast to my usually polite manner.

    ¡°Everything I do is intended to protect you. The reason why I put distance between us when we first met was for that very purpose. Do not presume that my actions are done out of spite, or a dislike of you.¡±

    Samantha took things the wrong way from the word ¡®go.¡¯ Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes started to water; ¡°I knew you cared about me, Maria. That frosty outer shell was just a defence mechanism!¡±

    ¡°All of that is not permission to begin mocking me,¡± I quipped.

    Samantha wiped the mock glee from her face and apologised.

    ¡°I cannot imagine a scenario where you could assist me. I¡¯m sorry if that sounds harsh of me to say. I¡¯d rather you avoid becoming entangled in this. It¡¯s complex, and your life will be put into danger.¡±

    Samantha was firm, ¡°I¡¯m not sitting back and letting you risk your life. Being friends means that we support each other. I couldn¡¯t claim to be your friend if I let you do this without me.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t going to change her mind, so I decided to compromise with her and show some slack.

    ¡°Fine. But I¡¯ll accept it on one condition. You need to follow my orders to the letter. I don¡¯t want to hear any arguments from you in a situation where guns and the like are involved. If I tell you to run and hide, you do it.¡±

    Samantha smirked, ¡°That¡¯s reasonable. I trust your judgement.¡±

    With an agreement hashed out about how things were going to go, Samantha turned her attention to other matters of importance. Mainly, trying to explore as much of my room as possible without annoying me. I wasn¡¯t hiding anything incriminating in here that she didn¡¯t already know about, so I sat back and watched her try to sneak away to rifle through my possessions.

    Samantha had a talent for finding my underwear considering it was the first thing she found. She slammed the drawer shut with a blush on her cheeks, sending a worried glance my way. I¡¯d seen the whole thing ¨C but I kept quiet and pretended to have seen nothing.

    Franklin returned with a tray of tea and snacks for us to enjoy. There was only one thing that could pull Samantha away from her invasion of my bedroom, and that was the promise of cake. He placed the tray down on the table and bowed his head.

    ¡°Are you certain that you want to continue following these criminals? It¡¯s hardly the place for a young noblewoman, as capable as you are.¡±

    ¡°I have no intention of doing anything dangerous. I merely wish to gather enough evidence to force an intervention from the police. From there, we can leave it to them to handle the rest.¡±

    Samantha grabbed a piece of cake and her tea, sitting back in her spot across from me. She hummed, ¡°If you¡¯re familiar with the woman we¡¯re looking for, why don¡¯t you just ask around about her?¡±

    Franklin was aware of how dangerous this idea was.

    ¡°I can hardly ask Cordia to come and speak with us unprompted. She¡¯s a busy woman. Not only is she attending to the Franzheim family, but she also holds a managing role in the servant¡¯s union. I don¡¯t know how she finds the time.¡±

    I was getting sick of hearing everyone say that there was nothing to be done, and that I was part of the problem. We needed solutions. Franklin and Lance were the two closest connections I had to Cordia and her employer. I¡¯d have to take a chance on pursuing these leads if I wanted to make progress.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you have to do. I want information about Corda, where she works, and who contracts her. Put it in writing and send it to me at the academy.¡±

    Franklin grimaced, ¡°Very well. I will endeavour to uncover that information.¡±

    With only Samantha and I left in the room, she returned to indulging in all the little luxuries that I took for granted. The cake we were eating was priceless, as in it was baked by the staff specially for the occasion. It was impossible for her to keep quiet the exclamation of joy she felt while chowing down like a ravenous animal.

    ¡°Enjoying it?¡±

    Samantha nodded frantically, ¡°This is the best cake I¡¯ve ever tasted. You¡¯re telling me that you get to eat this every day?¡±

    I frowned, ¡°Every day? I wouldn¡¯t dare. It may be appetizing, but it is bad for keeping your weight in check.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s chewing slowed a tad as she remembered that cakes contained a lot of calories and sugar. An athletic girl like me wasn¡¯t going to compromise her diet by eating sweets every day. I reached out and took a pair of biscuits instead. They went better with the tea in my humble opinion.

    ¡°This is more like a real sleepover than I was expecting,¡± Samantha admitted after polishing off the last of her slice. ¡°I was kinda¡¯ joking when I said that back at the academy. I wanted to see your house, mainly.¡±

    ¡°You already know that I don¡¯t like talking about myself openly.¡±

    ¡°Do I ever,¡± Samantha sighed, ¡°I was planning on asking if you had a crush on anyone in the academy too.¡±

    I almost choked on my tea, which was the exact reaction that Samantha was hoping for. She leapt out of her seat and leaned over the table with a twinkle in her eyes, having guessed that my reaction was brought about due to an underlying truth that I was keeping secret.

    ¡°Really? Who is it?¡±

    I placed my cup down and cleared my throat, ¡°I don¡¯t have a crush on anyone. I was shocked that you thought of me in that way. When have I ever expressed an interest in romance?¡±

    Samantha grinned, ¡°Everyone thinks of romance from time to time. It doesn¡¯t have to be a serious choice. Haven¡¯t any of the boys in our year caught your eye? They¡¯re all pretty good-looking.¡±

    Of course they were ¨C this was a visual novel. I¡¯d never seen a game where the romantic partners were intentionally designed to be unappealing. We were in a class of supermodels. All of the female students spent their days gleefully chattering about which flavour of pretty boy was their favourite.

    Samantha was disappointed, ¡°Aw. I guess I was expecting too much. I really wanted to know what your ¡®type¡¯ was.¡±

    My type? It was no exaggeration to say that I never gave it any thought before now. Romance was not a skill I had experience in. In my past life, I avoided it out of fear of what may happen to my potential lover, in this second it was the same situation. Why would I get to enjoy something as profound as romance without a catch? It was so remote from the stuff I was concerned about that I was uncertain as to whether my sexuality remained untouched.

    My gender identity was switched to match my new body. The question was if my benefactor went the extra mile and made me like boys too. I looked back on all of the people I¡¯d met since starting at the academy and considered each in turn. I soon realised that none of them elicited any feelings in me. It only then occurred to me that the problem may have been their age. I¡¯d lived for thirty years once before, after all.

    ¡°I do not know what my type is,¡± I stated honestly, ¡°I don¡¯t think of romance very often, if at all. Looking at the boys in our class ¨C I cannot say that I am attracted to any of them.¡±

    My benefactor must have used a light touch when it came to adjusting me. They wanted to keep me as similar to my old self as possible, only doing the bare minimum to ensure that my mental well-being was maintained through forms. My Father would blow a gasket if he found out that I wasn¡¯t interested in men, who was going to inherit the family house if I didn¡¯t have a child?

    ¡°And what about you? Many of the other girls are jealous that Maxwell is always with you.¡±

    Samantha tilted her head to one side as a signal of her non-understanding; ¡°They are? What about Claude? He¡¯s good-looking too.¡±

    Was Samantha really ignorant as to why Claude wasn¡¯t currying a fanbase of fawning girls? Good looks can only get you so far. His personality was so out there and his interests so eccentric that nobody wanted anything to do with him.

    ¡°I suppose you aren¡¯t interested in either of them, then.¡±

    Sam shook her head, ¡°Nope. I bet all of the other students are imagining me relishing being in their company.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t know them as well as you do,¡± I concluded. Standing from my chair, I stretched out my aching limbs and moved towards the wardrobe. ¡°We¡¯d better get changed into something more comfortable. Would you like to use our bathroom?¡±

    Samantha was giddy about my offer ¨C picturing said bathroom as a gigantic chamber with constantly flowing water and a tub the size of a small pool. She was going to be disappointed. Most of the fittings in our manor were mass-produced, and that included the baths, sinks and toilets. Samantha wasn¡¯t going to listen to me though. She ran out of the room to grab her suitcase and some fresh clothes.

    Reality was the cruellest teacher of all.

 Chapter 63

    Cordia slammed the newspaper down onto the table.

    Four men and two women flinched at the sound of the paper meeting the wooden surface. They were gathered in the apartment to report back on their attempts to kill Caius Willow, an operation that had proven to be a tremendous blunder on all fronts. Not only was Caius still alive and well, but he¡¯d also managed to elude them at some point during the chase.

    ¡°Do I even have to say anything about this? What the hell were you thinking? He was boxed in, and forced to protect his sister, yet you somehow managed to allow his escape!¡±

    The assassins in attendance winced. They were simple criminals and agents brought together by the promise of a good day¡¯s pay. All they were asked to do was infiltrate a sanatorium and kill a singular man during his visit. Cordia was starting to regret her decision to send them instead of handling it herself.

    ¡°He was very fast,¡± one of the men offered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care how bloody fast he was! Explain to me how he left that room without taking a bullet to the spine.¡±

    The downtrodden man, Ben, turned to his compatriots, ¡°He was an expert escape artist. He¡¯s clearly done this before.¡± The others nodded in affirmation of his account. Not only was he fleet of foot ¨C but he also possessed magical abilities that allowed him to distract and obstruct their efforts.

    ¡°More excuses,¡± Cordia snapped, ¡°I have no need of them. Surely, you¡¯re aware of the risks that we face if we continue to fail to follow orders. My head will not be the only one on the chopping block.¡±

    None of them could offer a response that would satisfy her. She wanted to give them a dressing down for their failure and nothing else.

    Ben frowned, ¡°Is this about Lady Franzheim?¡±

    Cordia laughed, ¡°Lady Franzheim is the least of your worries. The best kind of puppet is one who believes that they¡¯re pulling the strings. You should worry about me instead. Lady Franzheim is not the one in control here.¡±

    There was an expression of doubt from her hired hands. Was that truly the case? Lady Franzheim was a member of an incredibly rich and powerful family. It begged to reason that she was the one giving out the orders. She wouldn¡¯t suffer the consequences should things not go in the right direction, that was what they all assumed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe for one moment that Caius is a genuine threat to the plan, but Lady Franzheim being in a good mood is key to ensuring a smooth progression. It is a small ask for us to find and kill him before he can speak with the police.¡±

    Even after Cordia repeatedly told her that Caius knew nothing of importance, she persisted in her belief that he posed a severe threat. Cordia¡¯s primary job was to convince her that she was in control. Refusing her orders would compromise that purpose - the true value of killing Caius was keeping Franzheim on their side. Her money and influence were key.

    She crossed her arms disapprovingly, ¡°It¡¯s lucky for you that I have contacts in the union. We¡¯ll get a second chance, but you should be aware that the police are looking out for you.¡±

    It was an abject humiliation to go to her spies and ask for his whereabouts. It was the first time in a very long time that Cordia hadn¡¯t executed a plan to perfection. She lived by a simple creed. That one should do things correctly the first time around, rather than allow mistakes to occur. Failure was not an isolated harm. A single cog in the machine running out of step would shift every other piece around it. To fail was to be selfish.

    ¡°Given the area where he disappeared, I suspect that he may have taken refuge on one of the nearby estates. They are extremely large and unwieldy. Unused buildings are a frequent sight. It¡¯s entirely possible for two people to hide there for some time without being spotted.¡±

    Clara, one of the women who posted as a patient, joined in on the discussion.

    ¡°Do you mean to say that he has a contact within the nobility?¡±

    ¡°Not that I¡¯m aware of. Caius has worked as a small-time thief for years; his social circle extends no further than his criminal associates in the city. I have spies watching them closely and none have reported back with a sighting. Caius is smarter than I gave him credit for.¡±

    And there was the matter of the mysterious interloper who tailed her to her previous safehouse. Cordia suspected that Caius was soliciting the help of someone else. Whatever the reason, Cordia was not going to allow it to happen again. Moving all of her belongings out of the previous apartment was a tedious affair. The only silver lining was that the letters she stole were carefully written to ensure that they did not incriminate those involved.

    It was a mark against her pride that a stranger snuck up on her and held her at gunpoint. The perpetrator was talented. She didn¡¯t hear a damn thing until the barrel was already pressed against the back of her skull. She must have picked the lock with genuine precision.

    The risk was not to the plan of which Cordia was privy. Great pains were taken at every step to create redundancies and cut-off points that would prevent investigators from piecing together the truth. This was a matter of personal and professional principle. Nobody got one over on her and lived to tell the tale.

    ¡°All of you need to cool off. I¡¯ll contact you again when I have something to go on,¡± Cordia concluded with a snap of her fingers. The miserly lot she paid for the killing gathered their bags and left in a single-file line, leaving the stern woman to her thoughts. The attack at the sanatorium was seen as a surefire way to kill Caius, but that also came with significant heat for the killers. Now, Caius was still alive ¨C and the people she was relying on were known quantities. It was the worst of both worlds.

    It was a brief moment of temperance that prevented Cordia from dumping them and handling it herself, but that would only create more work cleaning up the mess and organizing replacements.

    Another figure emerged in the open doorway with a morose frown on his face.

    ¡°Oh dear. I wouldn¡¯t be so quick to anger. It¡¯ll make you wrinkle.¡±

    Cordia was already in a bad mood, but being visited by Marden Booth was the only it could get worse. She rued every day in which he continued to be her best source for the information she needed. Despite his abrasive personality, he had a way of getting secrets out of people.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± she asked bitterly.

    ¡°I thought some good news would bring a smile to that face. The fellow you¡¯ve been looking for was just seen on Wayland Avenue. He¡¯s back in the city.¡±

    That was good news, but it would take more than that to break Cordia¡¯s eternal tense frown. She stood from her chair and took a gun from the cabinet by the window.

    ¡°I see. Given that the rest of my cohort failed the kill him at the sanitorium, it¡¯s down to me to eliminate him.¡±

    Marden laughed, ¡°We disagree on a lot of matters ¨C but your interest in doing things right the first time is all too accurate.¡±

    ¡°Competent help is difficult to come by these days.¡±

    ¡°If you ask me, he¡¯s probably heading to one of the nearby contacts for work. He probably can¡¯t live off of his savings or relocate somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°Do you know which one?¡±

    ¡°No. That area is stuffed with them, to the gills they are. Dozens and dozens of them. I heard that he does business with a handful of them on the Avenue. You¡¯ll have to camp out and see if you can catch him leaving.¡±

    Cordia was not happy to hear that. She¡¯d already spent dozens of hours watching and waiting for her moments to strike, and that was with the benefit of unsighted colleagues taking shifts.

    Marden waved, ¡°I¡¯ll get out of your hair and leave you to it. I know how much you hate dealing with unreasonable requests from people like Lady Franzheim.¡±

    Cordia said nothing while he dipped back into the corridor and left her to stew in her own frustration. He was a buffoon, but at least he was skilled enough to do the job. That was the singular aspect of a person that she cared about. She was willing to deal with contrasting personalities so long as they did their part.

    This was not personal. Cordia didn¡¯t care about what happened to Caius. He was just another in the long line of tools she utilised to further her objectives and the objectives of her benefactors. They¡¯d all put their livelihoods and freedom on the line to finally be rid of the ineffectual, incompetent and illegitimate parliament - that saw themselves as superior to Walser¡¯s chosen rulers. Caius would surely understand the significance of his death if she explained it to him, yet there was no time to afford him that privilege.

    Whatever crimes she and her comrades committed would be forgiven once the population discovered the indignity in which they lived and worked for so long. They¡¯d forgotten the pride that their ancestors felt when the Van Walser house ruled with confidence, dashing their enemies from shore to shore and breaking them into nothingness. A second golden age would come by their hand, and henceforth no other nation would doubt Walser¡¯s place as the primary superpower on the continent.

    Every great victory started with a small, innocuous step. In this case, killing Caius Willow and maintaining Lady Franzheim¡¯s trust. She merely needed to find him first.

    <hr>

    When we assembled for breakfast in one of the sitting parlours that morning, it was quickly made evidence that Caius had absconded from the manor overnight and disappeared to do whatever he was planning to do. Alice sat nervously at the table in her gown, nibbling on a piece of bread provided to us by the servants. Franklin was keeping everything in lockdown. No information was to leave the manor until he gave the word.

    ¡°I hope he knows what he¡¯s doing. As capable as he seemed from our previous meetings, I still doubt his ability to handle a threat of this scale.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Alice cleaned her mouth with a napkin and bowed her head, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about my brother. He always takes such impulsive action!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologise for him. I¡¯m sure that those familiar with me could say the same.¡±

    Samantha gave me a knowing look.

    ¡°He said that he¡¯d leave for a while and try to visit his friend in the city. She knows a lot of things that other people don¡¯t. He told me that he¡¯d sent a letter here when he found out something useful.¡±

    An informant. It had been a long time since I¡¯d worried about one of those.

    ¡°It would have been easier to tell us that himself,¡± Samantha muttered. I concurred. The urgency he was showcasing made communicating harder. Would it have killed him to hang back and tell us this in person?

    Samantha and Alice were enjoying their glimpse into the life of a rich and powerful noble daughter, primarily through their inhalation of whatever food was placed in front of them. The cooks always stocked so much food that some of it would inevitably be thrown out once it turned rotten.

    That would not be a problem if these two stayed at the house long-term. I sympathized with Alice, eating nothing but hospital food for almost a year must have driven her up the wall.

    The head chef was happy to have so many people in the manor to enjoy their work. Without me around, and my Father taking regular, lengthy trips away for business, they were often left without any serious work. They didn¡¯t prepare the same luxurious types of meals when he wasn¡¯t around. He was passionate about the job. He wanted to produce world-class dishes on a regular basis.

    ¡°Anyway, aren¡¯t we heading back to the academy later?¡± Samantha inquired.

    ¡°There isn¡¯t much we can do from here. I was planning on setting off early to ensure we returned in good time, but we can stay for a few hours longer if there is something you would like to do.¡±

    She shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t have anything in particular. I was enjoying the change of scenery, but I was also hoping that you could show me around the gardens. It would be a shame to come all this way and not appreciate them.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind. There are some wonderful vistas that have been cultivated by the staff over the years. My Father spares no expense in allowing them to chase whatever mad ideas they come up with.¡±

    It was a common adage in the landscaping world that the Walston-Carter house was the best place to demonstrate your innovation and talent. My Father would pour millions of marks into ideas that caught his fancy, and they so often did. He was fickle like that, always changing things around for the sake of novelty or to say he was the ¡®first¡¯ to do it.

    The most infamous of all was the twisted iron statue that he commissioned from a famous artist named Frank Dugdale. He was considered a working-class prodigy, producing abstract and terrifying forms from common industrial materials. The end result was a towering pillar of sharp edges, pipes and metal objects.

    Perfect for placing in the garden of a noble manor house, obviously.

    The sculpture lasted for a few months before his common sense finally got the better of him. It was moved to somewhere more appropriate - a local plaza dedicated to the work of the nearby manufactories. I didn¡¯t have a problem with the piece, but its placement was always questionable to me. It was like a statue you¡¯d see in a public sculpture park, and it stood in harsh contrast to the natural surroundings.

    ¡°I¡¯d love to come with you, but Franklin said that I should stay in bed,¡± Alice sighed.

    I gave her a reassuring smile and tried to act the part of a big sister figure, ¡°I¡¯m sure that there¡¯ll be an opportunity for you to explore the gardens once you recover from the surgery. Franklin is concerned about your stitches opening up again. Ask him to give you a tour once your bedrest period is over with, he¡¯ll be happy to oblige.¡±

    Alice lit up, ¡°Oh! Is Mister Franklin kind?¡±

    I wouldn¡¯t describe him as kind, but he did have a strong sense of duty. What I liked about Franklin was that he was flexible. A lot of servants were extremely rigid in their duties and struggled to adapt to a new environment. Franklin and I were on the same page, which meant he understood what mattered to me.

    ¡°He¡¯ll do whatever I ask of him. Tell him that I was the one who suggested it. Franklin pretends he cares little for the gardens ¨C but I¡¯ve seen the way he looks when the weather is nice. He would eagerly accept an offer to spend his entire day lounging by the pond.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve always lived in the big city,¡± Alice said, ¡°When I went to the sanatorium I couldn¡¯t believe how clean the air felt, or how pretty the horizon was.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t alone. The advent of industrialisation and urban population centres meant that there were working-class citizens who¡¯d never witnessed Walser¡¯s natural beauty with their own two eyes. It was easy to take clean air and low-density development for granted. For many, it became a luxury they could not afford.

    Alice finished the last of her meal and left to return to the guest room. Franklin was going to personally keep an eye on her and make sure that no complications arose from her operation. Caius was curt on the details about what exactly they¡¯d done. All he stated was that she was suffering from a fatal bout of a common syndrome and that the surgery was intended to correct it. With that said ¨C it was difficult to ignore the large vertical scar that ran from the top of her chest.

    Samantha was curious, ¡°It must have been very intensive surgery to leave a scar like that. That¡¯s the sort of wound that stays behind for the rest of your life.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. I can understand Caius¡¯ desperation to protect her from harm, regardless of how ethical his actions were in the pursuit of that goal.¡±

    Samantha was taken aback by my expression of sympathy, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to forgive him like that. The other nobles at the academy would lose their heads if they were forced to reckon with a thief.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m full of surprises.¡±

    Her brow furrowed, ¡°Was that a joke?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t know, was it?¡±

    Samantha grumbled, ¡°Ugh. I suppose you are. Every time I assume something about you, it¡¯s proven wrong in short order.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s true of people from all walks of life that desperation can make them do strange acts. If you were to ask me the value of Caius¡¯ behaviour, I would respond by posting that the loss of private property from the wealthy is a small sacrifice for a young girl¡¯s life; though the victims are liable to disagree.¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°I can¡¯t say that my family are big fans of thieves and the like, but there¡¯s a big difference between rustling some of our animals and stealing jewellery. And now that Alice has gotten the surgery she needed, he doesn¡¯t have a reason to keep doing it.¡±

    That was an optimistic assessment. Criminals were creatures of habit, I knew because I was one myself. It was hard to break old habits and patterns when you were riding high on the sweet smell of success. Caius could take one of two paths. He could enjoy his freedom and start a new, honest life somewhere else, or he could feel emboldened by the control he felt and become reckless.

    There wasn¡¯t much I could do about it. He was not beholden to my whims, so I decided to focus on what was possible. Samantha would need to be given some points about how to protect herself in a dangerous situation before I¡¯d feel safe bringing her along with me on one of my adventures.

    I hoped for Alice¡¯s sake that Caius didn¡¯t do something stupid.

    <hr>

    Caius was growing paranoid ever since he returned to the city. He put on a brave face for Alice¡¯s sake, but the truth was that their near-death experience shook him to the core. If he made the wrong choice back at the hospital ¨C she would have died along with him. Stepping out of the Walston-Carter manor and taking them on himself served two purposes. It kept her safe, and it promised a potential future wherein they could start a new life together.

    The first step was gathering information on Cordia. Maria was kind enough to share the letters she stole from her apartment, allowing him to take examples of their handwriting with him. Gertrude could analyse them and see if she knew who was penning the orders.

    Easier said than done now that a cabal of monarchist revolutionaries was tracking his every movement. It was rare to see him without his trademark suit and top hat, but they were too recognizable. This was not a situation where he needed to build his brand as a gentleman thief.

    It seemed that Gertrude was expecting him given the speed at which she opened the door and scowled at him. Her hand snapped out like a coiled viper, strong fingers gripping one of his earlobes and dragging him through the threshold into the apartment.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing coming here after what happened at the sanatorium?¡±

    Caius wrestled his way free and held out his hands to prevent her from attacking him again. She really did a number of his ear there. It felt like she was about to rip the damn thing off!

    ¡°I need your help with something,¡± he pleaded.

    ¡°How about you start with a bloody good apology?¡± she sneered, ¡°Do you honestly think it¡¯s okay to come here with how much heat is on your back?¡±

    ¡°I promise, I¡¯ll be gone before you know it. I just need you to take a look at these and tell me if you recognise the handwriting.¡±

    Gertrude didn¡¯t get the chance to say no. Caius quickly pulled the notes from his pocket and placed them in the singular blank space that he could find on the nearest table. She sighed and leaned over to inspect each in turn.

    ¡°The person who got these said that they belong to someone named Cordia, who works for one Lady Franzheim.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say that I¡¯m familiar with her, but Lady Franzheim has a rather infamous reputation. She considers herself a mastermind, reaching out to mercenaries and guns-for-hire on a fairly regular basis. Most know well enough to leave her alone, it¡¯s not worth the risk.¡±

    ¡°The risk?¡±

    ¡°Rule of thumb ¨C stay away from people shopping for extra hands the way that she does. They¡¯ll either stiff you, force you into a job that isn¡¯t worth the effort, or burn you once it¡¯s done.¡±

    Caius snorted, ¡°That didn¡¯t stop a group of them from shooting up the sanatorium.¡±

    ¡°She may be stupid, but that¡¯s also why she¡¯s dangerous. She doesn¡¯t respect the usual rules and unspoken expectations about doing illegal work.¡±

    ¡°And the other letters?¡±

    Gertrude scratched the side of her head and powered up her mental library of every piece of scum from this coast to the next. The letters were distinctive. Whoever wrote them had neglected to use a typewriter to cover their personal stylings.

    ¡°These rounded A¡¯s and flat D¡¯s ¨C I think they belong to a media baron called Thersyn Bradley.¡±

    ¡°Just like that?¡± Caius asked. Gertrude was good at what she did, but recognising someone¡¯s handwriting from a single glance? She proved her point by digging through one of the nearby piles of documents and placing them next to each other.

    ¡°This is a copy of a letter he sent to the speaker of the house from the man himself. One of my blokes was working on an unrelated job and needed it traced, so this is what we came up with.¡±

    True to her claim they both sported those distinct round A¡¯s and flat D¡¯s. When they were placed next to each other the similarities were loud and clear.

    ¡°Thersyn Bradley, is he a monarchist?¡±

    ¡°Aye. A well-known lobbyist for them. He donates a lot of money and pushes stories into the press about how toothless parliament is. Do you think he¡¯s the one pulling the strings?¡±

    ¡°Goddess knows,¡± Caius replied, ¡°The fact that Cordia was holding not these and not burning them makes me believe that everyone is scrapping and fighting for themselves. Look ¨C there¡¯s a note at the bottom.¡±

    ¡°Burn after reading,¡¯ how classical of them.¡±

    ¡°Lady Franzheim thinks she¡¯s in control, Cordia is resentful and gathering material to blackmail them with, and Thersyn Bradley doesn¡¯t have them kept on a tight enough leash. It¡¯s going to be difficult to bring their conspiracy down with so many competing interests.¡±

    Gertrude rolled her eyes, ¡°Why the hell are you trying to play the hero now? Grab your stuff and get out of here.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not going to let me. I need to make sure that they don¡¯t come for Alice again. I met an interesting person who gave us somewhere to hide out.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be safer to make a run for it. You don¡¯t get anything out of confronting them.¡±

    ¡°If they¡¯re mad enough to shoot up a sanitorium to get at me, moving towns isn¡¯t going to help. Do you know where Thersyn lives?¡±

    ¡°I know where everyone lives,¡± Gertrude sighed. She grabbed a small piece of paper and scribbled down the address. The man never made a secret of his living conditions.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to snoop around and see if I can gather some evidence. Getting the police to bust the ring is going to be tough.¡±

    Gertrude was withering, ¡°Impossible would be more accurate. Nobles live in a different world than the rest of us. They don¡¯t have to follow the laws, and they¡¯re free to use that money to steer this country in a way that benefits them. That¡¯s why the monarchists are so obsessed with bringing back the old system. It¡¯ll make them even more powerful.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I have an idea about how to launder it to the authorities. That interesting friend might be the key to making it happen.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it.¡±

    Caius grinned and moved to leave, but stopped as he heard the metal door at the bottom of the stairs clatter shut, followed by the sound of footsteps moving up the creaky wooden steps.

    ¡°Bugger. That must be one of them now.¡±

    Gertrude was already opening one of the windows, ¡°Then get out of here before they find me.¡±

    Caius pulled the door shut and locked it using the bar, before following her orders and clambering out of the front window. The building was built to squeeze as many people into the small space as possible, so the first floor was extremely close to the road below. Caius dropped down, remembering to bend his knees and blunt the impact when he landed.

    He blew her a kiss from street level, ¡°Thank you, Gertrude. Love you!¡±

    ¡°Piss off you rat bastard!¡±

    Caius was already off and running before they figured out the trick.

 Chapter 64

    From then on, my schedule changed dramatically from what I was used to. Aside from my regular visits to the tennis club during the morning or evenings, I also dedicated my time to teaching Samantha the basics of self-defence. I resolved not to show her anything she could use to kill someone by accident, focusing mainly on grappling and how to handle stressful situations where your attacker was using a weapon.

    Mainly ¨C the finer points of running away.

    Samantha was incredulous about that one, but I made sure she knew the real dangers that came with someone using a sharp object to try and stab her. There was no winning, not without a serious helping of good luck, so it was in your best interest to put as much distance between you and the attacker as possible. Even an effective defence could end with them sinking it into your ribcage and killing you.

    The only reason I stepped in back at the theatre was because I was too hyper-focused on protecting Felipe. It was lucky for me that the assassin was too busy looking at Felipe to notice me moving to intercept him. It was a bad example to set for Samantha.

    Besides putting her into the right headspace to handle crisis situations, we also picked up on the amount of joint exercise we did. Samantha was tall and strong for her age, but her conditioning left a little to be desired. I gave her a simple training regimen of morning jogs to improve her stamina and round out that strength with some speed.

    I was juggling teaching her and my tennis lessons with Lance. My arrival did bring a lot of eyes to the club, but none of my adoring fans saw fit to put the effort into joining and learning how to play. The few that did soon decided that watching me from afar was preferable to drenching themselves in sweat every other day.

    I wish I had as much free time as they did.

    The purpose of my association with Lance was simple. I needed to find out any information I could about the Franzheim who was involved with the monarchists. Asking him about her unprompted wasn¡¯t an option, so I attempted to steer our conversations in that direction over the course of the next week.

    Eventually, I found some success. We were talking about our personal lives and matters turned to that of the family business.

    ¡°What does your family do?¡± I inquired while we cleaned up the equipment from the day¡¯s session.

    ¡°We¡¯re best known for our construction company. You¡¯ve probably seen a lot of our buildings in the city while passing through. The cadet branches have their own interests, but they tend to revolve around the core business. My great-aunt Carides owns a furniture manufactory.¡±

    Carides was just the woman I was hoping to hear about.

    ¡°Furniture, I do believe that she¡¯d get along well with my Uncle Clemens. The man is obsessed with it. He collects antique items from every auction house he can find. There¡¯s a storehouse on his property that is filled from wall to wall with chairs; just chairs.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that she¡¯s an antique lover, she¡¯s more interested in managing the factory than the specifics of their design.¡±

    ¡°Would you describe her as a workaholic?¡±

    Lance chuckled, ¡°No, she has her own hobbies besides. She¡¯s also a lover of tennis, as it happens. She¡¯s coming to the tournament to see me play some exhibition matches.¡±

    Yes ¨C very convenient. It was almost as if things were aligning specifically to help me in finding her.

    ¡°Then I must remember to give her my regards.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for that,¡± he insisted.

    ¡°No, no. My Father always says that manners come first. And not to worry you but she sounds like fine company to have. A practical mind like hers is rare and to be cherished.¡±

    Lance wasn¡¯t sure what I was angling for, ¡°Well ¨C I suppose there¡¯s no harm in dropping by and saying hello. Does that mean I should reserve a place for you? We still have some left.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I wouldn¡¯t be a good member of the club if I did not attend my seniors¡¯ competitive matches.¡±

    ¡°Fantastic. We have a lot more people coming with us this year versus the last. I must be doing something right,¡± he chuckled.

    We finished cleaning up the rest of the mess and stored it in the shed by the courts. The tidying duty was rotated between junior members of the club, though it was considered good manners to take your own equipment back without relying on Lance or a first-year. Still, with so many balls, bags and racquets lying around ¨C it was inevitable that some of them would be forgotten and left behind.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you at the next session, Maria.¡±

    ¡°As will I.¡±

    We said our goodbyes and parted ways. I was covered in sweat, so a visit to the washroom was in order. I was the last one to use the showers, so I enjoyed the solitude of a quiet moment beneath the head while lukewarm water poured over me. It was rare to see all of the other booths empty after a session, we took longer than usual to find the last few balls that had escaped the court during play.

    The changing room showers were a rather depressing place ¨C so it wasn¡¯t a location where I liked to spend a lot of time contemplating recent events. They were covered in dull white tiles, and while above your usual public restroom, it was clear that the staff spent less time cleaning the showers versus the washrooms inside the main building.

    I got my fill of showering in solitude and put on some fresh clothes. While I was walking back towards the academy building, Adrian caught my attention. He was moping on the steps in front of the doors.

    ¡°Good morning, Maria.¡±

    ¡°Adrian,¡± I replied curtly, ¡°I do hope they aren¡¯t giving you too much trouble.¡±

    ¡°Are you making fun of me?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m being genuine.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s eyes narrowed, ¡°You know, it¡¯d help people discern your motives if you put a little emotion into your voice instead of this even tone you always use.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t help the way that I speak. I was asking out of curiosity. The other students are quick to pass judgment and very slow to forget.¡±

    ¡°Why do you care? You¡¯re trying to make me do something, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°And what do you mean by that?¡± I responded defensively.

    Adrian laughed, ¡°You don¡¯t do anything unless you get something out of it. I¡¯ve learnt that recently.¡±

    ¡°Like?¡±

    ¡°Cosying up with Felipe. You didn¡¯t give other people the time of day before we started attending this academy, and you still didn¡¯t even when the term started, but I¡¯m meant to believe that you turned into a social butterfly out of the kindness of your heart. Your Father told you to do it, didn¡¯t he?¡±

    Adrian was very plainly projecting his own insecurities onto me. The arrest of his Father humbled him somewhat, but that was not enough to overcome the deeply seated emotional issues that he had thanks to his actions.

    ¡°Interesting, and what do you suppose the purpose of me joining the tennis society is then?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t have all of the answers. All I do know is that you¡¯re like that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m allowed to have my secrets, as are you. You should never presume that someone is doing something for purely selfish reasons, you¡¯ll be surprised when they act in ways you do not anticipate.¡±

    Adrian shook his head disparagingly.

    I placed the racquet down and sighed, ¡°I¡¯d be willing to part for a secret or two in exchange for one of yours. That seems like a fair trade to me. I still want to know what¡¯s so important about that watch the thief stole.¡±

    Caius wasn¡¯t told what it was for. It served some magical purpose beyond our understanding ¨C and the monarchists wanted it to execute their plan.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have any secrets worth knowing,¡± he responded with immense false confidence, ¡°I can read you like an open book. I¡¯m not telling you, or anyone else, what the watch does.¡±

    ¡°So, it does do something?¡±

    Adrian was sharp enough to catch me out on that one, ¡°You already figured that out weeks ago. Why else would you be asking? I highly doubt you¡¯d be needling me with these pointless questions if not for your assumptions about its value.¡±

    He stood from his spot and wagged his finger in my face, ¡°I¡¯m not telling you anything. My Dad told me to keep it a secret and for a good reason.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t tell him that knowing the watch¡¯s function would help me find it for him, that would be giving away too much of my hand for no return. Adrian was imagining me pilfering it and using whatever magic power it held.

    ¡°Suit yourself. I was trying to make friendly conversation.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that the tennis club taught you about that. I¡¯ve never once known you to be friendly, there¡¯s always an ulterior motive.¡±

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    He was mostly right ¨C but I wasn¡¯t going to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. Adrian was a major character in the game. I wanted to keep a leash on him for as long as I could so that nothing strange happened. The problem was that Adrian hated my guts for showing him up so much.

    ¡°I¡¯m the only one willing to stand up for you at the moment. I wouldn¡¯t be so hasty in casting dubious assertions about my motives. If you recall, I stated clearly that I don¡¯t hate you. This rivalry is entirely one-sided.¡±

    ¡°Easy to say when you¡¯re on the winning end of it more often than not.¡±

    ¡°Do those trophies and accolades really mean so much to you? In a few years, they won¡¯t be worth the space they take on my room¡¯s mantlepiece. The only language that works in this world is money and success.¡±

    Adrian shook his head, ¡°And you think it¡¯s a good thing.¡±

    ¡°I never said that. I think it¡¯s laughable. You and I have more money than we could ever willingly spend. Why waste our days worrying about accumulating even more of it?¡±

    ¡°Your family¡¯s richer than ours.¡±

    ¡°What difference does that make? At a certain point, the number is immaterial. I have no intention of dedicating my time and energy to making it go any higher. There are better things to focus on.¡±

    ¡°What would that be?¡±

    I paused, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Adrian guffawed, ¡°You gave me that big speech and you don¡¯t even know the answer? I thought you had it all figured out since you were so cocksure about lambasting me over it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m being honest with myself. I don¡¯t know what I want to do, or where I¡¯ll end up. You should give that some thought, and maybe those shooting trophies won¡¯t seem like such a missed opportunity anymore.¡±

    I left him on that note, having grown tired of the layers of emotional defence he loved to erect between himself and others. That was why he didn¡¯t have a single friend left to varnish his reputation or vouch for him. Everything was a competition, and to have allies would be to show weakness. He only had himself to blame, and he didn¡¯t have an excuse of believing that his friends would all die like I did.

    I really wanted to know what the watch did ¨C but he wasn¡¯t budging.

    I¡¯d have to find out through other means. Cordia was unlikely to know the real value of the watch herself. That sort of key information would be kept amongst the heads of the conspiracy, normally. Even if she did I couldn¡¯t rely on finding and getting the drop on her again to ask. For better or worse, it seemed that my only path forward was through Caius.

    <hr>

    Caius was used to being patient, but the threat to Alice¡¯s life pushed him to hurry. It was not a comfortable position to find himself. He didn¡¯t know if he could trust Maria and her servants to keep Alice safe, but what other options did he have? The monarchists had eyes and ears everywhere, and they were willing to use extreme methods to get rid of him.

    It was a calculated risk. He couldn¡¯t bring Alice along with him on a dangerous endeavour. She still had to recover from her operation. Between his anxiety about leaving her at the manor and the potential anxiety he would feel from bringing her with him, the manor was the better choice.

    Thersyn Bradley was the most important person that the general population didn¡¯t know about. That was by design. The man was famously reclusive and concealed his business dealings through a variety of quasi-legal means. He was most well known for his ownership of three different newspapers that were pushed out to different parts of the Republic.

    These rags were popular amongst conservatives ¨C featuring content that was tailored to their interest and biases. Thersyn kept a close eye on the editorial content of these publications, and they frequently laundered stories between one another to give them credence where there would otherwise be none. The publishing industry was a wild place. Regulations were only just catching up to how influential they could be.

    It was not unusual to see the enemy of the day plastered across all three. It was a well-oiled machine that allowed them to shape public opinion as they pleased. Thersyn was an innovator, and he did not shy away from using his papers to push the monarchist line on every issue. Stories of parliamentary impotence and waste were their favourites.

    Parliament was perfect ¨C but nobody expected it to be an answer to all of their problems. It was a damn sight better to have them in charge than a group of unchanging royals; if they were incompetent you had to live with it until they died. But Caius wasn¡¯t doing this to make a political statement. His only motivation was to protect Alice, if that meant collapsing a political conspiracy to topple the government, then so be it.

    He bided his time until the sunset and infiltrated the estate. It was a comparatively modest home compared to the Walston-Carter family¡¯s, but it was likely that Thersyn didn¡¯t want to pay out of pocket for a large contingent of staff to look after the place.

    One thing was for certain ¨C the man was his own biggest fan. The lobby area¡¯s walls were covered from end to end in framed copies of his own newspapers. Whether the headlines were true or false was of little concern, so long as they sold enough and shaped public conversation.

    One of them was recent, from just a month ago.

    ¡°Parliamentarians cower in fear as gang of thugs humiliate security force!¡±

    The article made the argument that parliament was not stable enough to resist attacks of this nature while ignoring the counterargument that a closely guarded collection of royals was irreplaceable. His monarchist leanings were easy to discern, but did it mean he had a hand to play in the plot? Caius scoffed under his breath and moved on before his brain rotted from reading the low-quality swill.

    Caius was here to look for hard evidence of his involvement. It would be silly to pass judgment without finding any supporting documentation first. There were many out there who held the same position out of an earnest belief in the old ways being superior. It was a messy subject. People were being born every day who lived without ever knowing about the monarchy or the war that removed them from power.

    Caius was estranged from that generation. He was just old enough to recall the immediate aftermath of the Compromise. The thought of going back to debate the issue all over again chilled him to the core. No reasonable fellow who lived through the war would espouse such an opinion unless they were getting something out of it.

    They weren¡¯t looking for war. They were looking for revolution.

    Caius slinked down the corridors of the house and checked each room in turn. Thersyn did not lock his doors for the sake of convenience, and it was the right choice. Most mass-produced locks weren¡¯t worth the metal they were cast out of. Caius could have easily breached any of them within seconds. There was an irony to that. A man who preyed on others¡¯ ignorance, himself being fooled by unscrupulous lock makers who assumed their customers would do little to no research about their purchases.

    Sadly, that was often the case.

    The common man imagined themselves as security-minded, but they would not dedicate the time and energy to delving into the complicated world of lock security. Like all disciplines, there were good and bad manufacturers, but the bad often rose to the top through cheap production costs and expansive marketing campaigns.

    Caius smiled as he finally found what appeared to be a study or office.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind me, just admiring the furniture...¡±

    Caius stepped through and closed it behind him. He could take his time and find what he was looking for. It was early in the morning. The master of the house would not awaken for some time yet. There were even more framed newspapers in his office ¨C though these seemed to take on a more personal form than the ones in the lobby.

    Primary placement was given to the very first copy of the Walser Tribunal, which was posted proudly on the diving wall behind the desk. Caius¡¯ petulant side had half a mind to vandalize it as revenge for what happened to Alice, but ideally, he¡¯d never even know he was here.

    ¡°Documents, documents,¡± he murmured, trying to refocus on the task at hand.

    If it was documents he was looking for, he got them in surplus. Thersyn was a hoarder. He never threw away anything that he believed could serve some obscure purpose to him in the future. Ironically, this immense paper trail made Caius¡¯ life much harder. Where would he even start?

    The desk always came first. He rattled the lock on each drawer and investigated what was inside, finding an unloaded pistol in one and a stack of balance sheets in the other. A quick read-through revealed no details that looked amiss. Perhaps that was too obvious a place to keep the incriminating stuff.

    The filing cabinets also proved fruitless. Caius frowned and stood by the door with his hands on his hips. Where the hell was he hiding the good stuff? He paced back and forth, rechecking the same spots again. His dedication to a close investigation soon paid off, as he noticed a strange switch on the back of a small stone bust by the back corner.

    ¡°Hello, what do we have here?¡±

    Caius flipped it upwards and jumped back as a loud rumbling shook the room. One of the bookshelves against the left-side wall was moving out of the way, revealing a passage that led down into the basement. That was new. The man had a flair for the dramatic. Caius reminded himself to step up his game once he got out of here.

    The passage was rustic, with stone walls and wooden beams supporting the construction. Modern electrical lights ran down one side of the tunnel, offering faint light to whoever traversed it. If the incriminating stuff was anywhere, it was going to be in a convoluted hiding place like this.

    Caius set his resolve and descended the stone steps with urgency. It was possible that the loud noise alerted someone in the house to his presence. He discovered that the tunnel was deceptively long and deep, heading further and further down until he doubted that it actually led into the basement. In truth, there was a chamber beneath the basement that came with the house, one that had been specially built by Thersyn for a specific purpose.

    Caius could have never guessed as to what that purpose really was.

    ¡°Goddess above!¡±

    The foul smell of rotten meat filled his senses as he stepped down into the large chamber. Malice filled the air, a dark and dingy dungeon illuminated by a set of poorly fitted lights. It took him a moment to recognise what he was looking at. This was no secret archive, nor was it being used to store wine or cheese. A large red symbol was slathered across the far wall, the twisted forms and sharp edges combined into a shape that resembled an A.

    He was a dark Goddess cultist, a Scuncath.

    Caius had believed them to be nothing more than an urban legend used to terrify naughty children, but the truth was now staring him dead in the same. A corpse lay across a heavy stone slab, with its ribcage and chest torn open like a grotesque butterfly¡¯s wings. The shrivelled skin was evidence that it had been here for some time, slowly rotting into nothing. The smell was terrible.

    Caius resisted the urge to retch, but he wasn¡¯t going to stick around for any longer than he needed to. This was a sacrificial chamber intended for secret worship ¨C not a place where one would hide their spare documents. He turned on his heel and moved back up the stairs, attempting to banish the sobering sight of the dead body from the front of his mind.

    He retracted his earlier statement. Cordia and the others may not have wanted a war, but Thersyn certainly did. That must have been why he was getting involved in their plan to destabilize the government and bring back the monarchy. Turmoil on that scale would please the Scuncath and their obscene beliefs, that the bloodshed played a key role in reviving the Black Lady ¨C and by extension the Dark Goddess who served as her patron.

    Caius was not sticking around and becoming his next sacrifice. He couldn¡¯t find what he was looking for, but the presence of the profane chamber was just as enlightening as any document or plan. This conspiracy was more complex than he first imagined. There were dozens of people involved, some of whom sported motivations that conflicted with their fellow men and women.

    When he returned to the office, his ears perked up to the sound of someone moving in the corridor outside. Caius did not have time to think about it. He ran to the window and jostled the lock open, slipping out and down into the garden with a flourish of his cape.

    It was a good thing that he did. At that exact moment, the man of the house opened the door and stepped inside.

    ¡°Why is this open?¡± he wondered in panic. He hurried over to the desk and retrieved his gun, clumsily loading it with a concealed magazine. It was too late for him to catch Caius now. He was long gone and already running down the main road.

    Caius breathed a sigh of relief once he reached his escape point. This was meant to be a simple smash-and-grab, he didn¡¯t expect to find evidence of a cultist murder while he was at it!

    ¡°Scuncath, I thought it was just an urban legend...¡±

    He should have known better. Urban legends often turned into something real at the behest of those unable to separate fiction and reality. Who was to say that the cultists weren¡¯t influenced by a pervasive atmosphere of misinformation? Despite their efforts ¨C the Dark Goddess had not yet descended from the sky and brought nihility to the world at large. That such a hodgepodge of rumours led Thersyn to commit a crime so obscene was beyond Caius¡¯ understanding.

    Maria was going to want to know about this, though he was uncertain as to whether she¡¯d find the information useful at all. First, he needed to distract himself from the sights he saw with a warm meal and some beer.

    He groaned, ¡°What a day.¡±

 Chapter 65

    ¡®The Walser East Coast Under Eighteen Tennis Championship¡¯ sported both the longest name in the tennis calendar, and had one of the most prestigious prizes that one could earn without going professional. A large cash prize and a trophy that was so big that most people wouldn¡¯t be able to fit it through their front door without disassembling it.

    There was a sister tournament on the West Coast, but it was smaller in scale due to the lower population density in the area and therefore considered a step down from winning on the East. Still ¨C they were both places where promoters and agents tried to track down the next generation of tennis talent. A cursory glance would give you a firm grasp of who would be on top of the sport in a few years¡¯ time, they just needed to have a good run.

    Lance was not expecting any of our club members to get that deep into the bracket. They were good. Good enough to win smaller tournaments and inter-school competitions, but it would take a prodigious effort from our representatives to beat the best of the best.

    The primary purpose of our attendance was to show everyone what a competition really looked like. It would run through the whole day, from an early morning start to a late evening finish. The entire area around the court was dressed for the occasion, with stalls serving food and providing entertainment for the spectators between matches. There must have been a few thousand people actively mulling around, even more if we included those who wandered through to see what was going on.

    I¡¯d learn later that there were several members of the Liberal Democratic Party in attendance too. However ¨C at the time I didn¡¯t know, nor did I have any faces to put to the names I¡¯d read from the list in my uncle¡¯s office. I stuck with Lance and watched what the club was up to, rather than wandering off and getting lost.

    ¡°When is the first match?¡± I asked.

    Lance nodded in Emily¡¯s direction; ¡°Emily is up in thirty minutes on the third court. These early rounds aren¡¯t the most exciting ¨C even at a national tournament like this, the skill gap between the different competitors is very high. This is where they separate the hobbyists from the ones who take it seriously.¡±

    I crossed my arms disapprovingly, ¡°I¡¯m a hobbyist too.¡±

    He scrambled to reiterate his previous statement, ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with playing tennis for fun or your health, but the folks who want to go professional with it spend a lot more time and effort training than the others. Some of them take competition like this too lightly.¡±

    I was just busting his balls a little.

    Emily tugged his shoulder, ¡°Is there a spot for us to warm up?¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. It¡¯s over here.¡±

    Lance escorted us through an open gateway and into an empty courtyard where several benches had been left for the competitors to use. Some of the other competitors had already staked their claim and left their equipment bags here for later. A nearby brick wall was the only opponent Emily was going to find.

    She groaned, ¡°Squash rallies?¡±

    Lance chuckled, ¡°Looks like it. None of the others are going to want to tire themselves out so early.¡±

    Emily resigned herself to her fate and pulled out her racquet and a ball. The rhythmic impact of that ball against the wall lulled me into an unfamiliar trance. Something was engrossing about watching her move from side to side, returning it to her unthinking partner with some serious force.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to hurt your neck if you keep doing that.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°Hardly.¡±

    ¡°You should go out and explore the festival before the match starts. You can find the schedule on the notice boards, they¡¯re everywhere. The food is always fantastic.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t hungry yet ¨C but I filed that away for consideration. The food was half of the reason to bother attending according to the other club members. They¡¯d all scattered to the four corners of the three-block festival area to find their favourites. The studious members with matches were not yet permitted to go hunting.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you there.¡±

    I left Lance to wrangle the rest of his athletes. He didn¡¯t have time to babysit me all day, so I chose to get out of his hair and make life easier. There was plenty for one to occupy themselves with. Officially it was a tennis tournament, but the local businesspeople were not going to pass up the opportunity to exploit a captive audience of customers from across the nation. Each year the size and extravagance of the tournament increased in proportion to the money made available.

    At this point ¨C it was a large-scale festival that dominated three to four blocks of a semi-urban area on the edge of the city. This came about out of necessity. Facilities capable of hosting this many visitors were few and far between. For a single day every year, the people who lived nearby were sucked into a major athletic competition.

    The courts themselves were arranged in a L-shape, with two stacked horizontally and another two positioned vertically at the bottom. A large three-story residential building followed the inner edge of the courts, while the opposite side was taken up by a set of wooden bleachers. The fence on the building¡¯s side had to be higher to prevent balls from flying over and smashing their windows.

    There was plenty to keep my mind occupied while we waited for the club¡¯s first match. I arrived with no intention or plans to become a hyper-vigilant guard dog for anyone at the event, though fate clearly had other plans, because it was impossible to miss the stressed expression of one Caius Willow through the thrum of the crowd. He spotted me, lit up like a Christmas tree, and made a beeline for my position.

    I moved to an area off of the main road and waited for him to catch up.

    ¡°Good morning, my lady!¡±

    He was back to his usual self.

    ¡°Hello Caius. I didn¡¯t expect to see you here.¡±

    ¡°I honestly wasn¡¯t planning on attending this event, but my informant handed me some interesting information about some of the attendees. There¡¯s a strong possibility that they might try to launch an attack on them. Did you reach the same conclusion?¡±

    I smirked, ¡°No. I joined the tennis club to try and get close to the Franzheim family. They brought me along to study what the seniors were doing.¡±

    ¡°What a wonderful coincidence,¡± he joked, ¡°There are two important members of the Republican movement here. Darian Fulmar, the speaker of the house ¨C he¡¯s going to be a big prize for those folk. The other is the Social Democrat¡¯s treasurer, Don Wesel.¡±

    ¡°They have family here?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Darian is famously infatuated with the sport and tries to attend every event he can, at least according to the rumours. Don Wesel¡¯s eldest daughter attends the Royal Academy, she might be a member of your club.¡±

    The name did ring a bell, but I hadn¡¯t been a member for long enough to memorise every face and name. She was definitely not one of the athletes who¡¯d been submitted by Lance to qualify for the tournament.

    Caius looked uneasy, ¡°I dropped by Thersyn¡¯s manor a few days ago...¡±

    ¡°Thersyn Van Walser?¡± I said incredulously.

    ¡°No, not the King ¨C the other one! Thersyn Bradley. He runs all of the conservative newspapers around here.¡±

    I should have assumed that he was talking about somebody else. Thersyn was a popular name, and there were a lot of people who hoped that some of the royal shine would rub off onto their children if they were given the same name. Thersyn Bradley was born into a generation where the King was newly crowned at the age of twenty.

    And besides, it was no easy feat to break into the royal estate. It was more accurate to describe it as a fortress than a home, surrounded on all sides by towering walls and a full complement of armed guards. Caius was good at getting away, but that was a suicidal idea even for him.

    Caius refocused on the topic at hand, ¡°I dropped by to try and dig up some dirt on whether he was involved with Cordia and the rest, but what I found was... much worse than what I expected.¡±

    ¡°Get to the point.¡±

    Caius hushed his tone, ¡°He¡¯s a bloody Scuncath. I thought I was walking into a secret storage room, but I found a poor bloke with his ribcage ripped open.¡±

    I scowled, ¡°A Scuncath? In this day and age?¡±

    ¡°I thought the same thing, but there was no forgetting that sight, or the smell. I bought a bar of soap from a local shop and shove it in my face whenever I recall it.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s his reason for joining their plan then? To seed discord in Walser so that he can take advantage.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say for certain, who knows what his sick mind is thinking about. He might be genuine about his intent to restore the monarchy, or he might be taking advantage of them to cause chaos. The outcome¡¯s the same.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t find documents tying him to Cordia though. Given the man¡¯s proclivities and biases, it was likely that he was in cahoots with one of them. Controlling the media space was essential to currying support for their side. Thersyn Bradley had a wide reach and influence to spare, some would even consider him a hero. To me, he was a dime a dozen populist.

    To his credit ¨C the murderous cult member angle was new.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± I asked.

    ¡°From what we¡¯ve seen so far, these monarchists aren¡¯t as united as they¡¯d like to seem from the outside. Cordia is keeping blackmail on the others, Thersyn is trying to push them into a violent conflict, and Franzheim thinks she¡¯s in control when she isn¡¯t. I¡¯ve never been part of a conspiracy to restore the monarchy, but those are the types of people you don¡¯t want if your plan is to get away with a crime.¡±

    ¡°I agree, but merely showcasing faults in their alliance is not enough to prevent them from doing real harm. We can¡¯t assume that they¡¯ll fail because of their contrasting motivations. And here I was hoping to enjoy a day at the fair.¡±

    He tipped his hat, ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye out for any suspicious characters, after all ¨C it takes one to know one.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything too risky. Alice is still waiting for you back at the manor.¡±

    He smiled, ¡°Naturally. Thank you for your concern.¡±

    Caius merged back into the crowd and went about his business. I took a second to digest what he¡¯d discovered about Thersyn Bradley. I knew of him. He was very wealthy for a man his age, coming in two decades younger than the sort of man you¡¯d find at a noble garden party. Being a Scuncath was a ludicrous claim, but why would Caius make that up? It served no purpose.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    The Scuncath were extremist followers of the Dark Goddess, but they were long since crushed out of existence by a government crackdown after a series of violent attacks. Their beliefs were diverse and incongruous in most cases ¨C each sect had its own ideas about how to revive said Dark Goddess from her eternal slumber.

    Ultimately, those ideas often involved gruesome acts of violence against innocent people, or self-mutilation that was levied unto vulnerable folks who were often targeted for their malleability. Being a part of a community or sect could force them into drastic action. They¡¯d sooner remove an arm than find themselves excluded from a network that supported them.

    It was almost time for the first match. I navigated my way through the crowds and found the entryway to the stands. Lance was seated near the back with the others, and he¡¯d even saved a seat for me.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t buy anything?¡± Lance asked.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m not hungry just yet.¡±

    Looking at the other students ¨C I could understand the confusion. All of them were holding something to chow down on, from sandwiches to drinks, to hot food. If anything, it seemed that they were more interested in the food than the match. I soon discovered why that was.

    Emily walked out onto the court and shook her opponent¡¯s hand. Everyone clapped along as Emily made the first serve. The ball rocketed across the court, skimmed the top of the net, and shot past the opposing player like a bullet. It quickly became clear that she was not prepared for Emily¡¯s level of skill, and the rest of the match was little more than a formality. Emily consistently outpaced and out-positioned the other player. She scored a paltry handful of points before finally being put to a merciful end.

    ¡°Nice play, Emily!¡± Lance cheered.

    I could have probably won that match if I put my mind to it. I thought Lance was exaggerating when he said that the skill gap was extremely large in the early stages. Emily wasn¡¯t happy about winning per se, she shook her hand again and walked off of the court without celebrating further. She was the competitive type. An easy game like that wasn¡¯t going to satisfy her.

    Lance grimaced as she moved out of sight, ¡°She isn¡¯t going to be happy about that one. Emily hates it when she gets an easy opponent. Hopefully, a sour mood doesn¡¯t spoil her chances at a good run into the bracket.¡±

    The tournament worked off of a seeded system. Players were assigned based on previous results and split into brackets. There was a second chance for the losers on the lower side ¨C but I got the distinct impression that Emily¡¯s opponent wasn¡¯t going to have much of a chance down there either.

    ¡°Emily is very talented,¡± I commented. The main brunt of my attention was being hyper-focused on what Caius had told me. Now that I knew two members of the party were here, I couldn¡¯t stop myself from scanning every face in the crowd to try and single out the potential assassin.

    That guy looks mad. I bet he¡¯s going to do the deed.

    No, he merely dropped his beer at the foot of the bleachers. The look of sheer anguish on his features was quite unlike anything I¡¯d seen in my two lifetimes. That was the face of a man who had just witnessed his entire family die in a car accident. I could only guess that the beer in question was unreasonably priced and designed to sucker in the tourists.

    While I was preparing for the moment when the chaos started, everyone else was having a good time. I couldn¡¯t put myself into that position knowing what I did, and it was all thanks to Caius stumbling across me and revealing what he¡¯d found. Two hours went by, and several longer matches took place that got the crowd heated up. I was desperate to dip out and go to the lady¡¯s room.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a moment,¡± I said to Lance ¨C descending the stairs and walking between the stands. I kept an eye out for any suspect characters, but there was nothing that caught my eye during the trip there. Much to my frustration, there was a queue to use the bathroom.

    So this was the reality of turning into a woman.

    Okay, that wasn¡¯t true. Women queuing to use the restroom was a bad stereotype, the organisers were just morons who underestimated how many people were going to show up for the tournament. This event was going to have to find some new digs sooner or later. The residents were probably at the end of their rope having to deal with this every year.

    The silence was broken by a cloaked figure pushing her way through the crowd, initiating a commotion from the bystanders who were caught up in the chase. A moment later Caius appeared, already out of breath. I approached him from behind and tugged on his shoulder.

    ¡°What on Earth are you doing?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s her! Cordia! She was lurking around the VIP area and I found her! Where did she go?¡±

    The bathroom break could wait. I took off in the direction where Cordia was last seen with Caius in pursuit. There were far too many people around to make quick headway. They were always getting in the way, in clusters and clumps of chattering buffoons. I grew tired of it quickly and started pushing them out of the way with some serious force.

    Cordia, if it was her, was trying to escape the event area now that her cover was blown. To think that she was waiting near the VIP area for her targets to arrive, I really ought to have checked there first instead of leaving it to Caius.

    ¡°Out of the way! Coming through!¡±

    I caught a glimpse of the cloaked figure scrambling up the fire escape of the nearby building. She was planning on moving into the more densely built area to evade us. It was a crying shame that I was both faster and more resilient than the likes of her. The metal rattled beneath my feet while I sprinted my way up each ladder until I hopped out on the roof.

    They froze up by the edge of the next building and stared at me. The tall stature and sharpened features - that was unmistakably her. Cordia looked like a deer in the headlights. Caius finally caught up with me.

    ¡°Get over here before I do something I¡¯ll regret,¡± I warned her.

    Cordia was not surprised to see me, which struck me as odd. She didn¡¯t know who I was, or that I was the person who held her at gunpoint a week before. Recognising my voice wasn¡¯t so easy, so why was she not shocked?

    ¡°You... you damnable brat!¡± she spat, ¡°Don¡¯t you know when to quit?¡±

    ¡°This is the first time we¡¯ve met, actually.¡±

    Cordia paused, but did not contend my claim as I expected. She turned on her heel and leapt from one roof to the next.

    Caius was not being helpful, ¡°She¡¯s getting away.¡±

    ¡°I noticed!¡±

    In my past life, if I was ever forced into a situation where parkour was demanded, that meant I¡¯d royally screwed up along the way. I was agile ¨C but moving around these spaces demanded a special kind of spacial awareness that took practice and time. Cordia was struggling herself, but it was her best shot at getting away from me. I couldn¡¯t shoot her down, I didn¡¯t have a gun.

    I swallowed my hesitation and charged towards the lip of the rooftop, leaping up and planting my foot along the edge. The wind whipped through my hair as I travelled from one building to the next. The sensation of falling down to the other side forced my stomach into my throat.

    Caius skidded to a halt behind me, ¡°Bloody hell! I didn¡¯t know you could do that!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m full of surprises.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re fast too!¡±

    I wasn¡¯t even trying yet, and the skirt I was wearing made moving my legs more difficult. I ignored his observations and powered on. Cordia wasn¡¯t going to get away from me. I¡¯d chase her down to the end of the city if that was what it took. Quitters never prospered. She was already halfway down another set of stairs before we reached the edge. The differing heights of the buildings would make navigation difficult.

    ¡°Stop right there!¡± Caius demanded, as if that was going to work.

    ¡°Use your magic for Goddess¡¯ sake!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know any offensive spells!¡±

    I grunted, ¡°I don¡¯t care ¨C just slow her down somehow.¡±

    We were too far away for him to use his bag of tricks, much to my displeasure. I pumped my legs and got moving, rushing down the metal scaffolding and leaping from the ladder into a roll. The gap was closing somewhat. Cordia was in a tough spot of her own making.

    I steadied my breathing and sprinted after her, leaping over ledges, clambering over stairwells, and coming dangerously close to tumbling down into the alleyways below as I did so. I could see the panic starting to form on her face every time she glanced back to see me getting closer and closer.

    Until she hit a dead end.

    There were no more buildings for her to scamper over. Caius and I crested the last set of steps and stared her down from across the way. Cordia reached up and pulled down her hood, revealing an expression that spoke to a deeper history than I first thought.

    ¡°You, you meddling little brat! I should have known it was you!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t even know who I am,¡± I responded.

    She backed away until her heels knocked against the sheer drop that led into the alleyway below. She pointed a finger at me, ¡°I should have killed you when I had the chance. You were the one who broke into my apartment!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Caius held me back, ¡°Careful, she has a knife.¡±

    ¡°And you, Caius ¨C you disgusting worm. Here you are, grovelling at the feet of a rich little lady like a slave!¡±

    Caius laughed, ¡°She offered me a much better deal than you ¨C and that before you tried to kill my sister. Isn¡¯t that the joy of the free market? You never had any intention of paying me for the work.¡±

    ¡°You never had any intention of doing the job,¡± she responded, ¡°Why would I pay you for such a shoddy performance? All that talk but there isn¡¯t a single professional bone in your body.¡±

    Caius tipped his hat, ¡°You aren¡¯t going to convince me of anything, Cordia ¨C not after the stunt you pulled at the sanatorium. You want an example of shoddy work, then there it is.¡±

    I stepped closer while keeping her weapon in mind, ¡°I¡¯d like to make you an offer. You tell me everything you know about the monarchist¡¯s plot, and I let you walk without a scratch.¡±

    I expected her to laugh me off as someone filled with hot air, but she took the threat seriously. Her eyes narrowed, ¡°There is nothing that I can tell you that you don¡¯t already know, Maria Walston-Carter.¡±

    ¡°So you do recognise me.¡±

    ¡°How could I not? Clemens Walston-Carter is one of our key targets.¡±

    ¡°You sound disconnected with the idea. I thought you were a true-blue monarchist like the rest of them.¡±

    Her left hand edged closer to her coat pocket; ¡°I believe in our goal, but I don¡¯t agree with how our other members have been going about things.¡±

    Too slow, too obvious. I stepped out of the way as her knife flew through the air and struck the brickwork behind me. Cordia did not want to face me in a direct fight. She turned around and climbed up onto the wall, looking down at the next building with nerves frayed.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± Caius called out, ¡°You¡¯re going to break your legs if you jump from there!¡±

    She scowled, ¡°I¡¯m not staying up here with her. You can take your chances by making a deal with the devil, and I¡¯ll take mine by getting as far away from her as possible!¡±

    Everything happened in an instant. Cordia tried to make the jump, but she lost her footing at the worst possible moment. Her figure tumbled over the edge and disappeared out of sight, a loud, meaty thump overpowering the sounds of the city.

    Caius winced.

    I ran over and looked over the edge. She was lying on the pavement, with one leg facing the wrong way and a puddle of blood leaking from her head. There was no way she survived that fall from four stories up.

    ¡°I think she broke her own neck,¡± I grimaced. What an utterly ridiculous way to go.

    Caius was in no hurry to see the grisly sight himself, he turned his nose up into the air and refused to look.

    ¡°What is wrong with her? She thought that jumping from there was safer than being around us?¡±

    Around me ¨C more likely.

    ¡°She¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°I figured that much!¡± Caius groaned.

    We retraced our steps until we found another fire escape and descended back onto street level, returning to the alleyway where her body had fallen. Caius stayed by the entrance while I stepped inside to investigate. I donned my gloves, which I never left the dorm without, and checked her pulse.

    Nothing. She was already gone.

    The impact on the back of her head was brutal. It must have cracked her skull and potentially contorted her neck. Her leg was also broken. She must have hit something on the way down. She didn¡¯t have the chance to protect herself from the fall. Humans were both durable and fragile. They could survive falls much higher than this one or die from the impact on landing. I never presumed that any one action was a guarantee of my safety.

    I checked her pockets. There was nothing of note until I reached the last one, where something hard and circular was tucked away. I pulled it free and held it up to the light.

    It was the watch.

    Why did Cordia have this? I hustled my way back to Caius and held it out to him.

    ¡°She had the watch. I thought you said that this was a powerful magical item. I can barely feel a trace from it.¡±

    Caius placed his hand just above the surface and entered a trance, ¡°Hm. It¡¯s absorbing our magical energy right now. The battery is drained, she must have used it recently. The trace I felt when I stole it was much stronger.¡±

    ¡°Is that so? It¡¯s a shame we can¡¯t take it and find the answers. We should leave it with her and tell the police that we found her body here. They¡¯ll return it to Adrian once the investigation wraps up.¡±

    Caius sighed, ¡°That is the safest way of handling this ¨C but now we can¡¯t get answers out of her. I thought we had her cornered there.¡±

    ¡°She clearly didn¡¯t want us asking questions if she was willing to take a risk like this.¡±

    I stepped away and returned the watch to where I found it. With any luck the police would connect the dots and launch an investigation. A valuable item stolen from the Royal Academy, in the hands of a stranger found dead at a tennis tournament.

    It was an anti-climatic ending for one of my quarries, but that was life. Death came quickly and without remorse ¨C and no amount of confidence could defend you from it. There was only one case where it was justified to feel like the main character, and that was being reincarnated into the body of someone like Maria.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not certain if you agree ¨C but this was a harrowing affair. I find the sight of a dead body repulsive. You have a very strong stomach.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like it either.¡±

    I tolerated them.

    I could tell that Caius was affected by seeing an associate die. He shivered and turned away.

    ¡°Let¡¯s find a police box and get Cordia some attention.¡±

    Caius did so, and told the officer on duty that he¡¯d spotted someone in a bad way in one of the alleys as he passed by. The officer quickly attended to the scene while another headed off to inform someone higher up so that they could investigate. Given her position and injuries ¨C it was likely to be ruled a suicide.

    I was filled with questions that would not be answered. Cordia was more willing to risk falling to her death than explain what was going on. What struck me as strange was how familiar she acted around me. Aside from the time I entered her apartment, we¡¯d never spoken or seen each other.

    The watch was the only thing on her body. Answers were not going to be forthcoming now that she was dead. I stuck around for a minute and watched the police bag up her body and haul it away from the scene. There was nothing to find down there. Cordia made her own bed, for better or worse.

    With that apparent assassination attempt foiled, I returned to the courts for the rest of the tournament. Lance would get suspicious if I stayed away for too long.

 Chapter 66

    The police were on the scene quickly, putting up a cordon and investigating the incident. It happened far away enough from the tournament that there was no disruption, and without any obvious evidence of foul play, no need to evacuate the attendees.

    In a world without modern mass media and internet communication ¨C it was rare for the police to be open and transparent about what they were doing. It was possible for a murder to occur in the city and for the general population to know nothing about it, unless an enterprising journalist decided that it was sensational enough to dig into.

    But Cordia? She was a nobody. There wasn¡¯t going to be any public interest in a union member jumping from a building and killing herself. The police would wash their hands of it and go with the easiest answer themselves. They had bigger problems to deal with than ¡®suicidal¡¯ folks. It was morbid ¨C but that was the way things worked in this era. Justice was often only levied to the people who could afford it.

    Cordia was a small fry, getting her hands dirty for the sake of advancing her owner¡¯s goals. They wouldn¡¯t be shedding any tears about her death, given that she was being used to commit the actual assassinations. I hovered around the VIP area until the next match to make sure that there were no follow-up attempts.

    When I returned to Lance, he and the rest of the club were getting excited.

    ¡°Right on time. You look sweaty, did you play a match with someone?¡±

    ¡°No, no. I just feel a little under the weather for some reason.¡±

    I took a small cloth from my pocket and wiped away the perspiration. A noble lady never left the house without one.

    It was Emily¡¯s turn once again. The bracket was falling into place for her, with some upset victories that pushed lower-seeded players into the upper bracket. If their form suffered during the following games, she could make a very deep run and potentially move into the semi-finals.

    Over the next four hours and gruelling series of battles played out in front of me. I was able to switch my mind off and enjoy the spectacle of two talented players putting everything on the line to win. Emily blasted her way through three more opponents during that time. Having a tournament take place over a single day was not exactly optimal, but it did raise the stakes by putting their endurance to the test. At least four participants were forced to drop out after suffering fatigue and injuring their arms.

    Lance was over the moon, ¡°Emily is amazing. She¡¯s already two stages ahead of where we thought she¡¯d end up!¡± His exuberance was shared by the other members, who were starting to fly into a frenzy of applause, cheering with each and every point scored.

    But she was flying close to the sun. Her third opponent was looking strong, and the match was close. Everyone was forced to the edge of their seats, but Emily¡¯s endurance finally hit its limit. The ball slipped past her and against the back fence, signalling the end of her run. Despite her loss ¨C Emily was in a better mood losing to a skilled foe than she was destroying a hobbyist.

    The club left the stands and returned to the changing area to offer their condolences.

    ¡°That was a fantastic showing, Emily. You¡¯re the first third-year to make it that deep into the bracket.¡±

    Emily wiped herself down with a towel and flumped over onto the bench, ¡°Thanks, Lance. You weren¡¯t lying when you said that there¡¯s a huge leap in skill from one round to the next.¡±

    Lance nodded in consolation, ¡°I had the same reaction. The senior members of the society revealed the same to me, but I didn¡¯t understand what they meant until I saw it with my own eyes. This is where the future professionals come to show off what they can do. I¡¯d say that you¡¯ve caught the attention of people in the sport.¡±

    Emily was pessimistic, ¡°We¡¯ll see. I¡¯m not expecting to hear from the bigwigs after one solid showing.¡±

    ¡°More than solid, and you never know ¨C they like to keep an eye out for young talent.¡±

    With Emily eliminated the Royal Academy¡¯s tennis society was officially out of participants for this year¡¯s event. Some of the others slipped away to enjoy the festivities or catch matches that they were anticipating. I didn¡¯t have any plans in mind, and now that the game was over my headspace was occupied by Cordia¡¯s untimely end. It was a bizarre way to go. In terms of the artistry of this life I lived, it was strangely anticlimactic. I was so sure that she¡¯d become one of the leading antagonists on this new adventure. The unassuming lackey who holds all the cards ¨C it was a classic trope.

    ¡°Did you have a good time, Maria?¡±

    I glanced up at Lance, ¡°Yes. The matches were rather enjoyable.¡±

    ¡°You know ¨C a lot of the other students keep acting like you¡¯re an emotionally stunted doll. I could tell that you were excited about the games.¡±

    ¡°An emotionally stunted doll...¡±

    Lance¡¯s eyes shot open, ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t mean to say it like that. I never put any stock into those claims in the first place. What I mean to say is that they¡¯d have a better impression of you if they were willing to see you as a real person, rather than a collection of unlikely stories.¡±

    Lance was very meek ¨C but also brutally honest and prone to getting himself into awkward situations. This was one example of that. He stated it with good intentions but accidentally implied that he was one of those people with his own counterargument.

    ¡°I understand what you mean, but I am no zoo-bound animal who owes them a display of my personable qualities. Fools are difficult to convince, evidence is often only further proof of their pre-existing conclusions.¡±

    Lance frowned, ¡°That was the type of response they talked about too.¡±

    ¡°I take myself seriously.¡±

    ¡°I can tell. Now that all of our club members have been knocked out of the contest, the others will be too busy stuffing their faces to see the rest of the bracket. Emily and I are going to centre court to see the finals.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll come with you. It would feel like a waste of a trip not to see the best of the best.¡±

    Emily, Lance and I did just that. We moved to the centre court and observed the last rounds of the tournament until the winner was finally crowned. The level of play on display was far over what Emily could do as a student. They moved with speed and struck the ball with superhuman accuracy. They were on a different level. I was fit, but my smaller pubescent body would not be capable of keeping up with the likes of them, it was physically impossible.

    The match was close, whipping the crowd into an uproarious frenzy as the scores switched back and forth. The noise was deafening as the final serve skirted the line and was called fair by the umpire. Almost everyone in the stands leapt to their feet and applauded the young woman¡¯s victory over her foe.

    This was her goal. She was enraptured by the sight of these future professionals playing on one of the biggest stages, she imagined herself in their place. I envied her. She was already so assured in the path that she was taking. I was not. I was a stubborn asshole who masked my indecisiveness with a confrontational attitude. There was never a moment where I set my mind to a goal and worked towards it.

    That was what I found the most frustrating. At some point along the way, I started to accept that my wants needed to take a backseat to whatever unseen plan was being formed on my behalf. Would my reward at the end of this be the freedom to make my own choices, or would this second chance be snuffed out before I could cause any harm to innocent people?

    I wanted answers about how much control I had. Everything lined up to conveniently place me into situations where my skills as an assassin were needed. They brought me here for that exact purpose, so how much did they know about what was going to happen?

    I sat in silence and contemplated that question during the journey back to the Academy.

    <hr>

    Thersyn Bradley was furious, but he kept it hidden beneath an impassive mask ¨C like he always did. It was not unusual for a competitor to send a journalist to his home to try and dig for secrets, but none of them got so far as the front gate before being caught by the guard on duty.

    He had a sneaking suspicion that the state his office was left in came about as a result of one individual getting through. They were careful not to disturb anything, but he could tell. The biggest problem was the passageway door, that had been opened before he could descend the stairs and confront the intruder.

    If what was in there got out, his life was over.

    There was no time to ruminate on that subject though. The next phase of their plan was due to begin, and Claris Rentree was visiting the city to get an in-person update about what was going on. What he wouldn¡¯t give to knock her down a peg. The Duchess always acted like she was too good to appear in his presence.

    Thersyn knew what the problem was. Every man and woman involved in the plot believed themselves to be the ones giving orders. They wanted to be the ones who claimed all the glory at the other end, asserting a position of even greater influence over events in the country.

    Thersyn did his best to hide the sheer, venomous disdain he felt for Claris as her carriage rolled through his open front gate. He got down onto one knee, as was proper, and kissed the back of her hand in greeting.

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    ¡°Duchess Rentree, I hope you are doing well.¡±

    ¡°I hope you understand how much of a hassle it is to come north for these meetings,¡± Claris griped from the offset. ¡°Cordia has been keeping me abreast of any new developments with the Franzheim girl. She¡¯s very meticulous.¡±

    ¡°I understand perfectly well, it is a time-consuming process, even when we benefit from waterborne transportation.¡±

    ¡°I mustn¡¯t waste any time. There¡¯s a ball I must attend the day after the next ¨C I will never recover my social standing if I¡¯m forced to miss it.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you say that this grand mission of ours is more important than a ball? We are speaking of the future of this nation.¡±

    ¡°It is important, but if you want the money and political support to keep flowing, I have to shake hands and put on that fake smile. Now, chop chop ¨C let¡¯s get to it.¡±

    Thersyn resisted the urge to turn her into a new shrine to his Goddess and escorted her through to the meeting room. She sat down on the sofa, refusing to remove her overcoat and hat. She was far too eager to leave again, she was forgetting her manners.

    Thersyn calmed himself with a cigar; ¡°Franzheim is tangling Cordia up in busywork at the moment, but she¡¯s not at risk of turning on us yet. She¡¯s more concerned about her own safety than the success of our plan. We can pressure her in a different way if Cordia can¡¯t deliver the results she demands.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s unusual for Cordia to struggle like this.¡±

    ¡°It appears she hired an elusive customer. He doesn¡¯t know anything. If she can¡¯t kill him we¡¯ll lie to Franzheim and say that it¡¯s taken care of. It¡¯s unlikely for a blind fledgling like her to discover the truth. Her network is your network, after all.¡±

    ¡°If needs must. I would prefer loose ends to be tied firmly, though.¡±

    ¡°Still ¨C the gentleman she hired did what we asked eventually. A complete, accurate list of the candidates standing in the next election. We¡¯re already putting our people into their places so that we can cripple the Social Democrats at the right moment. Without their leaders, the voters will split apart and seek other avenues.¡±

    Lady Rentree crossed her legs, ¡°All of that work to protect that information, and that blubbering idiot Walston-Carter leaves it in a scarcely defended drawer.¡±

    ¡°Obscurity is the best kind of security,¡± Thersyn explained, ¡°Though his office is not the best place to keep sensitive documents like those. He had to hold a party to celebrate his promotion too...¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll be back at his home soon enough, to attend his funeral rites.¡±

    Thersyn handed a piece of parchment over, ¡°This is the list.¡±

    Claris studied the document with a discerning eye. Several notable members of the Social Democratic party were included, the ones who had the biggest pull and capability to attract voters from across the spectrum. It would be a devastating blow to their election prospects to lose them. It would collapse the Republican faction¡¯s power in parliament and tip the scales in the monarchist¡¯s favour.

    From there they could make deals and promises to secure rollbacks on troublesome reforms. Even the monarchists in parliament were nothing more than convenient pawns for Claris Rentree and her ilk.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to pick our targets and find out where they¡¯re going to be, and then launch a simultaneous attack to kill as many of them as possible. Cordia should be able to take care of the fine details.¡±

    Thersyn nodded, ¡°When that happens, we¡¯ll publish stories to sway public opinion away from the parliament and republican parties. If we put our backing behind one of the monarchist fronts ¨C we should be able to steal seats and prevent the Republicans from forming a coalition.¡±

    ¡°Good. The public¡¯s trust is already waning after the shootings in the theatre building. One more nudge in the right direction should have them clamouring for the return of the royal family.¡±

    Thersyn snorted and snubbed his cigar into the ashtray, ¡°I heard some interesting stories from some of the folks who took part in that plot. They told me that a young girl rolled through and gunned them down without remorse, no older than thirteen.¡±

    ¡°Thirteen? Don¡¯t tell me that you buy into that Sturml?ufer nonsense?¡±

    Thersyn tugged on his collar and tried to chuckle his way out of it, ¡°We may have published a few articles about the subject before. I can¡¯t say that I¡¯m the kind of man who dismisses the absurd out of hand. When you work in this business ¨C the strange is mundane.¡±

    Sturml?ufer; it was perhaps the single most loaded term in the Walser language. Not because it held any particular meaning outside of being a portmanteau of ¡®storm¡¯ and ¡®walker.¡¯ To express a belief in the Sturml?ufer was often a mark of intense ridicule, as sensationalist actors repeatedly claimed to have the proof needed to show that the government had been quietly training secret police officers from a young age to infiltrate places where they normally could not.

    The theories would run the gamut from them acting as nothing more than government snitches, to trained killers who showcased enhanced strength, speed, agility and awareness. Even further afield than that were theories than intertwined with concepts and conspiracies about magically enhanced humans who were essentially living weapons.

    Thersyn¡¯s journalists scoured every corner of the nation for evidence to support this story, but couldn¡¯t find anything. Some cursory mentions about the hypothetical application of magic in human enhancement provided enough fuel for some hysterical articles about them, but even that well ran dry after a few weeks.

    It was a personal curiosity ¨C but Thersyn was not a ¡®believer.¡¯ Belief implied that it was some sort of religious devotion, or that it was unfounded to look into the matter. Thersyn would not argue that they were real unless he could find proof. Anything less would be to waste his breath.

    ¡°Call it a hobby of mine. I only entertain it these days because some of the young men and women who come through my doors are curious in the same way. But if we separate the claim from the stigma of Sturml?ufer, it does beg many questions. The other survivors testified along similar lines. To put it simply ¨C a girl who was there somehow procured a weapon and killed two dozen of them, yet the police have no idea who did it or why.¡±

    Claris had no time for absurd claims like these.

    ¡°Do you honestly believe that an unruly rabble like them are trustworthy sources?¡±

    ¡°Not usually, but they all told the same story independently. I heard it from multiple police sources that they swore on their lives that it was true, they even asked them if they coordinated the claim ahead of time ¨C but none of them agreed.¡±

    Claris sighed and intended to discard the discussion from her mind as soon as possible, but then an intrusive thought occurred to her. Cordia¡¯s reports had mentioned a ¡®young lady¡¯ breaking into her apartment and asking for information about who she was working for. As was protocol, she refused to offer anything more than a single morsel to throw her off of the trail. Just how young was that lady specifically?

    She chastised herself. She was falling for Thersyn¡¯s propaganda techniques again, casting doubt where there was otherwise nothing to see. Cordia didn¡¯t specify because it wasn¡¯t worth noting. All she knew was that a young girl was chasing them down for some reason. It was a task better left to the likes of the police.

    Not that they¡¯d ever lift a finger against her or Thersyn. They were bought and paid for, and she had eyes and ears inside the organisation too. At the higher levels of Walser¡¯s police ¨C they couldn¡¯t so much as breathe without her hearing about it. Not that she did. Her operatives were picked because of their ability to separate prescient information from worthless noise.

    So far, they hadn¡¯t found anything to worry about. The police were too busy dealing with the fallout from the Roderro case, tracking down the last pieces to finalize the case and shut down the Tee¡¯s Gang. Heads would roll at the higher ranks if any of them got away by having not been at the building during the shootout.

    Cathdra Roderro was a blessing in disguise. Any initial suspicions about the monarchists being involved were quickly brushed aside by his confession to doing it for purely personal reasons. He¡¯d galvanized both sides of the debate without meaning to, and tensions were rising fast.

    Thersyn rubbed his eyes, ¡°I still don¡¯t understand how you found a woman in the servant¡¯s union with this kind of background in discrete matters.¡±

    ¡°Information is everything. Pulling up a criminal record or two is easy enough for someone like me. I offered her a network of willing subordinates and almost complete protection from prosecution for her loyalty. She¡¯s an excellent handmaiden ¨C and an even better fixer. Many others have crossed that line before, but it¡¯s become more of a rarity these days with the police sniffing around our business.¡±

    Claris had noted that Thersyn did not hire any permanent hands himself. There were one or two contracted guards around the exterior of the property depending on the day, placed in locations which deterred potential thieves from entering the premises. The staff who cleaned the house were also temporary. He was paranoid to a fault.

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look,¡± he groaned, ¡°I prefer to keep my house to myself, as much as possible. I don¡¯t like the idea of having others occupy my private space every hour of the day.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to offend. I was just thinking, you seem curious about Cordia.¡±

    ¡°Curious is all it is. I¡¯m not asking to hire her or one of her extra arms.¡±

    Claris snickered, ¡°I see. You prefer to shout your intent loudly and proudly from the nearest soapbox.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more sophisticated than that,¡± he said defensively, ¡°It takes a lot of work and experimentation to shape people¡¯s opinions on the subject we care about. They have to be prepared, and we have the carefully build our desired narrative to play into their beliefs.¡±

    ¡°From where I¡¯m standing, it appears to be nothing more than a constant outlet of bile.¡±

    She turned her derisive comments in the direction of the front pages that hung from every wall that surrounded them. Sensationalist, bombastic, testing the limits of what people would accept as truthful. The advent of mass media gave shock merchants like Thersyn an immense amount of power.

    ¡°I¡¯d be careful with your words ¨C Duchess, or you may come to find just how damaging they can be.¡±

    She laughed, ¡°Is that supposed to be a threat? I could snap my fingers and ruin you, and these tawdry pieces of wastepaper you take such pride in. Don¡¯t forget your place, Thersyn. Me and you? We are merely cogs in a larger machine still. There are men and women you have yet to meet who far outsize my influence.¡±

    Thersyn responded with a tense smile, ¡°Is that so? Well, I can hardly be expected to make plans without knowing who they are. You should consider giving more respect to the ¡®wastepaper¡¯ in future. Power over the national discourse will only become more important as time passes. You can disagree with the presentation, but the results are not up for debate.¡±

    ¡°I will have to disagree, Thersyn. An elegant manner is not merely for the sake of appearances. It is to ensure that you walk the right path in all things.¡±

    She stood from her chair and moved to leave with the list now in her possession. Thersyn pursued her through the main lobby and towards the front door. She always had to try and get the last word during their spats. He hated it. She was always preening, always looking down the side of her nose.

    She¡¯d look good in a crimson mask.

    ¡°And tell Cordia to get in contact with me again. She¡¯s been missing deadlines for weeks now.¡±

    Claris ignored him and kept walking, through the gate and into the waiting arms of her carriage to be taken away. The driver cracked the reins and the horses bolted off down the road. Thersyn slammed his door shut and grabbed the nearest vase from a table, throwing it to the ground and scattering porcelain shards all over the floor.

    ¡°Oh. I can¡¯t wait to gut you like a fish!¡± he growled.

    Patience. He needed to be patient. She was key to his personal plan, the one that sought to seed anarchy and bloodshed across Walser. Only when her use was expended would he do what he dreamed of and replace the old corpse in his basement. She would be a worthy sacrifice to the Dark Goddess - a woman of status and wealth. Her blood would nourish the withered roots and bring her one step to the destined revival.

    But all good things came in time. He felt his anger dissipating now that he¡¯d smashed that vase. It was a cathartic sensation, much the same as how it was when he cut open one of his sacrifices. To destroy something, to take an object or life that was valued, and turn it into worthless refuse was the perfect outlet for his rage. The vase was only valuable for the price tag that was attached to it, a replacement could easily be found.

    He bristled with anticipation. The final outcome of his scheme was just beyond the horizon now. Staying the course and making sure the pieces played their role was all he had to do. Idiots like Duchess Claris or Lady Franzheim couldn¡¯t possibly suspect themselves as being the pawns.

 Chapter 67

    ¡°Gah!¡±

    Sam grunted aloud as her back met the grass. The much taller girl was left sprawled out while I worked the kinks out of my arms. That was a good throw ¨C my judo skills weren¡¯t as rusty as I thought. It was just like riding a bike.

    Judo was an easy way to give people the grappling skills they¡¯d need to defend themselves. Wrapping someone up in a choke and incapacitating them was the ultimate goal. Teaching her the fundamentals of striking, or any of the other MMA adjacent skills I possessed would take too long to learn and apply. Fighting with a variety of strikes and holds was more effective than judo on the whole ¨C so I rarely found a use for it during my old job as an assassin.

    Sam was an eager student and she always paid close attention to what I told her. We sped through the early stages with no difficulty, assisted by Sam¡¯s larger size and already-developed musculature. Working on a farm for most of her life came with some significant benefits. She dusted off the back of her pants while I pulled her back up, ¡°Claude is going to start thinking that you¡¯re abusing me or something. Have you seen some of these bruises?¡±

    ¡°Is that not what¡¯s happening here? I may be teaching you ways to defend yourself ¨C but that inevitably comes with injuries and welts. I¡¯ve been trying to find a softer surface to do this on, but I¡¯ve had no luck thus far.¡±

    Sam shook her head, ¡°I¡¯ve suffered worse than this. This ground is soft enough for practice.¡±

    I smirked, ¡°I think that if someone ever tries to grab you again, you¡¯ll show them a thing or two. No more hostage situations next time.¡±

    Sam looked weary, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better to avoid putting myself into such a bad way entirely?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it would. But there are no guarantees when dealing with other people, the situation may be completely out of your control. The first step to victory is to assume control over the area of engagement, and when that fails you should be prepared for whatever initiative the enemy takes.¡±

    ¡°I understood some of that,¡± Sam chirped.

    We squared up for the final time, with Samantha taking a firm hold of my clothes and hooking her foot around the back of mine.

    ¡°Go!¡±

    Samantha used her leverage to push me off balance, before wrestling me to the ground with a hip-toss. From there she wrapped her forearm around my neck and applied firm pressure to my windpipe.

    ¡°Good.¡±

    Samantha broke the hold, looking every bit as proud as she felt for earning that scant praise. I rubbed the grass from my ass and took a swig from my water canteen. I looked like a damn alcoholic when I did this ¨C all because the popular proliferation of plastics hadn¡¯t arrived yet.

    There was an unusual visitor emerging from between the trees. Claude limped down the embankment and approached Samantha while she tried to clean herself off from the sweat and dirt that had accumulated.

    ¡°Sam! There you are.¡±

    He must have gotten the all-clear to ditch the wheelchair and crutches from the Doctor. This was the first time since the shooting that I¡¯d seen him on his own two feet.

    ¡°Is this what you¡¯ve been doing every morning lately?¡± he asked, ¡°Max told me that you walked out of the dorm with Maria. I didn¡¯t expect to find you doing this. Whatever this is...¡±

    Samantha was quick to concoct a cover story, ¡°I was impressed by Maria¡¯s athleticism ¨C so I asked her to show me a thing or two about how she stays in shape.¡±

    Claude nodded, ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t know.¡± He eyed me wearily, but I said nothing to contradict her story. ¡°Max told me that I should come find you before you miss the first period. I have no idea how you keep getting up so early in the morning.¡±

    Samantha laughed, ¡°Grow up on a farm and it¡¯ll become second nature to you. Spring, summer or winter ¨C we always have to wake up before the sun rises.¡±

    ¡°What difference does it make when you go to bed earlier in return?¡± Claude pondered.

    Sam paused, ¡°I don¡¯t know ¨C actually. It¡¯s probably to keep a regular schedule for the animals. Did you start worrying about little old me?¡±

    ¡°No. You¡¯ve just been spending a lot of time with her lately. I thought it was odd given that you were at odds just a few months ago.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s nice when you break through that hardened outer shell of hers.¡±

    Claude grimaced, ¡°I¡¯ll have to take your word for it. I don¡¯t believe that she wants anything to do with me.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps an apology for those accusations is in order? She¡¯s not the malicious actor you think she is.¡±

    I was standing in earshot of this discussion, so I wasn¡¯t sure why it was such a huge problem for Claude to get over our previous encounters and be friendlier. He¡¯d accidentally stumbled through the hardest part of the reconciliation process. Now that I understood my situation better, I was not going to chase him away with my usual intimidation tactics.

    ¡°And why didn¡¯t Max come and find me instead?¡± Sam queried.

    ¡°I think he was busy grabbing a shower. He didn¡¯t have the time to do it last night.¡±

    I approached the pair and made my presence known to him once more, ¡°I¡¯m keeping a close eye on the clock. There is no need for you to trouble yourself and come into the gardens searching for Samantha, especially when you are still rehabilitating your leg.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad now,¡± he insisted, ¡°The Doctors say that I¡¯ll be back to normal in a few weeks. It¡¯ll be like it never happened.¡±

    ¡°You take a very light-hearted approach to your near-death experiences.¡±

    ¡°Why did you pluralise that? You¡¯re trying to jinx me!¡±

    I laughed and walked out of range before he could swipe at me. Samantha tugged on his shoulder and prevented him from giving chase, not that he had any hope of catching me with an injured hip.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that Maria had jokes now,¡± he whined.

    Samantha grabbed her things from the floor and followed along with us as we headed towards the main building. It was so early that we were the only ones outside in the chilly weather. This was the ideal time to exercise, a flash of cold air into my acid-filled lungs. It woke me up from the drowsiness of a good night¡¯s sleep.

    With Cordia¡¯s death ¨C finding a thread to lead us to the people running the show was going to be harder than before. I left her alive the first time because I did not see any value in killing her. She didn¡¯t know my face, and unsettling her was likely to threaten the execution of their plan more than anything else.

    Getting in tight with Lance was going to be key, now more than ever.

    I couldn¡¯t sit back and put all of my eggs into one basket, but attending the academy restrained my movements. I needed to put out a letter in advance if I wanted to use the carriage, and I was expected to attend most lessons save for extraordinary circumstances. They took that sort of thing seriously.

    Caius was a blowhard and I didn¡¯t want to rely on him, but he was capable of some impressive escape techniques. He could potentially be helpful by gathering information about our targets. His first discovery, that Thersyn Bradley was a Scuncath, was a shocking one. I wasn¡¯t certain of what we could make of that. It wasn¡¯t as if we could leak it to the press and have his reputation in tatters without firm evidence.

    Scuncath were folks who believed earnestly in the power of violence. They revered acts of bloodletting because they (and some other scholars) believed that it would bring about the revival of the Dark Goddess, or the Black Lady, or Dark Lady, or whatever the hell they were talking about. There were fifty different names and methods assigned to every piece of the puzzle.

    It was illegal to be a Scuncath. There was no affirmative right to free speech even in this newly democratized country, but putting that aside they were more of a gang of violent lunatics than a legitimate religious sect. You had the true believers and the ones who exploited them, either way they were bound by an oath of violence. Rates of violent crime from Scuncath were so astronomically high that they were specifically targeted and banned. It came part and parcel with the ideology.

    Given that we¡¯d lived through violent times before ¨C their theory that the Dark Goddess could be revived through singular sacrifices was comical. The civil war resulted in tens of thousands of dead and even more horrifically injured, yet the world did not end as a result.

    It did give us a hint towards his true motivations. Thersyn may have seen himself as the one person who could inflame tensions in a similar way and bring about mass death to that end. It was folly, but there was no reasoning with people like him. He¡¯d take this as far as he could and die for it if the need arose.

    Killing Thersyn would be a waste of some good information. If we could inform one of his co-conspirators about his true motivations, it could pull apart the stress fractures in their coalition. Scuncath were reviled by huge portions of the general population, fairly or not, for the acts they committed. Legends about them having squalid appearances and sharpened teeth were more misleading than instructional.

    My own knowledge of Scuncath was sadly lacking, and they didn¡¯t keep records of morbid topics like those in the school library. Any research would have to come from more obscure sources. My old friend religious dogma was also here to cause trouble after my struggles with nihilist magic, which had taken a backseat to all of this fighting with thieves and monarchists. There¡¯d be no unbiased accounts or uncensored records this time ¨C not unless Miss Jennings was secretly a huge fan of their work.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    It was tough being proactive when you didn¡¯t know where to start. I¡¯d have to cross my fingers and see if Caius could dig something up soon, if not, drastic action would be in order.

    <hr>

    ¡°There you are, Sam.¡±

    Samantha rolled her eyes and sat down next to Maxwell ¨C who was flicking through the pages in his textbook.

    ¡°Can I not do what I want without you releasing the bloodhound to find me?¡± Sam complained.

    ¡°Bloodhound? Claude¡¯s hardly a vicious hunter. He managed to get lost in our house once, and it isn¡¯t even that complex of a building.¡± Easy to say when he¡¯d lived in it for his entire life, of course.

    ¡°I was doing some morning exercises with Maria, and my timekeeping skills are second to none. There¡¯s no reason to send Claude out to find me ¨C we were just about to wrap it up and come back.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s blossoming friendship with the coldest shoulder around had attracted a lot of attention and a lot of ire. Claude and Maxwell were uncertain about their own feelings on the topic. Samantha was the girl whom Maria confounded the most at first, but now they were getting along like a barn on fire. It was an inexplicable turn of events, with no indication as to how or why Samantha managed it beyond sheer persistence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. I really don¡¯t,¡± Max grumbled.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing strange about her when you get down to it,¡± Samantha argued, ¡°There are hundreds of equally unsociable folks in this academy, you only care about Maria because she has a stellar reputation while she¡¯s at it. She was already friends with Felipe before I wormed my way into her heart.¡±

    ¡°Actually - Felipe seems a little put off by her now,¡± Claude replied. It was so quick that it could only have come from instinct.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. The atmosphere around them seems more awkward than it used to be. Every time we have a magic lesson with him, he can¡¯t seem to look her in the eye.¡±

    Claude winced as the truth came out. He was waiting for Max to yell at him over making up theories again, yet the condemnation never came. Max folded his hands into his lap and nodded.

    ¡°I noticed that too. It¡¯s like he¡¯s walking on thin ice around her for some reason.¡±

    Claude exhaled and slumped down again, ¡°Really? That¡¯s the observation you don¡¯t have an issue with?¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯m sensing the same thing that you are ¨C it means that it¡¯s really noticeable. Maria doesn¡¯t seem to care, or even notice that he¡¯s behaving differently.¡±

    ¡°Maria doesn¡¯t much concern herself with how other people feel. She just charges on ahead and if that upsets someone, tough luck.¡±

    Samantha opened her mouth to ask a simple question; ¡°What could the reason behind that be?¡±

    But she never delivered it. She paused and considered her own words. There was one big, significant secret connecting Maria and Felipe. Did Felipe know the truth about who Maria really was? Did he know that she was the one who killed his attackers at the party and the theatre?

    Samantha was forced to put everything into perspective. Maria was utterly bewildered by her reaction at first. Despite the truth being as it was ¨C she couldn¡¯t see Maria as anyone but the girl she¡¯d come to know over the preceding months. Everyone had a secret or two, ones that they kept hidden from their closest friends and allies. It was not normal for anybody to react as if it was no big deal. Maria had killed a few dozen people right in front of her.

    She was expecting fear or rejection.

    Felipe primed her to think that way. Maria used her talents to do what could be considered a good deed, but the means by which she achieved it were questionable and aroused no end of questions. Training with Maria to learn some of her tricks only made Samantha¡¯s curiosity burn brighter. She clearly knew a lot more than what she was willing to share.

    Hand-to-hand combat, firearms, magic ¨C she was a walking arsenal of odd quirks that no other girl her age could claim to possess. Seeing her keep such a cool head under pressure, and the way she directed Samantha to do the same, gave off the impression of someone several years her elder. Where did she find the time and space to teach herself all of this? And if she didn¡¯t teach herself, who did?

    The enigma of Maria Walston-Carter was one that she wanted to decode for herself.

    Speaking of whom, Maria waltzed through the door into the lecture hall and quietly took her seat near the front of the crowd. The room immediately descended into a chorus of hushed whispers between the other students, who aired new and existing rumours about Maria and her achievements. These stories had been laundered back and forth so many times that they no longer bore any resemblance to the truth.

    ¡°I could ask her about what¡¯s going on with Felipe,¡± Samantha suggested with some deep thought.

    Max shook his head, ¡°Seems a little too direct to me. If she hasn¡¯t noticed it yet ¨C you might cause a problem by telling her.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Max is right. You¡¯ve got to use some subtlety.¡±

    Max scowled, ¡°What the heck do you know about doing something subtly? You spent the past few months shoving your finger into Maria¡¯s face about any wild theory you could come up with.¡±

    ¡°Did not.¡±

    ¡°Did too.¡±

    Samantha reached out and pinched both of their arms, ¡°Stop arguing like a pair of children. Why are you being stubborn about this? Max is right. Being detested by Maria never stopped you before.¡±

    ¡°Am I not allowed to change my tune? Don¡¯t make me spell this out for both of you.¡±

    Max scoffed, ¡°You¡¯re definitely just trying to come off as more mature for the girls.¡±

    Claude blushed, ¡°No. I¡¯m not. I already told you ¨C it was because of what you said to me after I got shot. Why are you trying to minimize my maturity here? I thought we had a serious heart-to-heart back there!¡±

    Max laughed at him, ¡°I¡¯m joking. I¡¯m messing with you. You¡¯ve turned as red as a tomato. Are you really that worried about people seeing you that way?¡±

    ¡°Sure I am! I¡¯m not some crazy womanizer who thinks he¡¯s the Goddess¡¯ gift to women everywhere, even if I did try to lift a few lines from those novels before.¡±

    Samantha sighed and covered her face in embarrassment. Even if Claude was interested in landing himself a lady, it was going to be a difficult task with the negative reputation he¡¯d built through his prior behaviour. And not to be mean ¨C but a boy of his station was already facing an uphill battle. He wasn¡¯t from a big-name family and they weren¡¯t as affluent as the other families at the academy. Samantha was in an even worse spot on the social stepladder, being the daughter of a lower-middle-class farmer instead of a police captain.

    Nobody dared bully Samantha in person. Such an action demanded a certain level of reckless disregard for their own safety. She towered over all of them and sported a robust body built through years of hard labour on the family farm. It was allegorical to walk into a lion¡¯s enclosure unsighted.

    The teacher entered the hall and the voices came to an abrupt stop.

    ¡°Good morning everyone. I hope you¡¯ve all been giving some serious thought to which subjects you¡¯d like to specialise in once the time arrives. Six months seems like a long time, but it¡¯ll be here before you know it.¡±

    There was a collective groan from the students, none of whom had yet decided on what subjects to select. The paralysis of indecision was lurking around every corner. Even if a large proportion of the students had their future careers already set in stone, they still wanted to select subjects they enjoyed to focus on.

    What surprised Samantha most was the pensive expression on Maria¡¯s face. From her side-on view, she could see the way she fiddled with her pencil with the tips of her fingers. She was always so confident and assured ¨C she thought that Maria¡¯s uncertainty was only a temporary issue. Since Maria was having such a problem deciding, Samantha felt reassured about her own failure to settle on one subject.

    It was more accurate to say that she couldn¡¯t take the plunge. Samantha¡¯s interests developed rapidly once she left her homestead, branching off into politics, social sciences and medicine. It was entirely possible for her to do all three with her allocation of lesson time. But it was a huge departure from her comfort zone of bailing hay and feeding animals.

    Samantha was being her own worst enemy. She was already inventing scenarios and reasons as to why she couldn¡¯t do what she really wanted to. She fell into a gloomy mood as the lesson started in earnest. This self-imposed impasse was not going to resolve itself.

    <hr>

    Franklin unlocked the door to Alice¡¯s room and stepped through, finding his other guest sitting on the edge of her bed with a notepad in hand.

    ¡°Mister Willow, I didn¡¯t know you were back.¡±

    ¡°Sorry for showing up unannounced. I forget my manners sometimes, but I was in such a hurry to put this down to paper that I...¡±

    Franklin paused. There were several dozen pieces of half-scribbled-on paper scattered around the room. Some of them were on the table, others were taped to the wall, and some were left underfoot for an unfortunate guest to slip on and injure themselves with.

    ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯s name is this unholy mess you¡¯ve created? I¡¯ve only been gone for two hours!¡±

    Franklin bent over and rounded up the stray pages with a furious scowl on his face. Caius and Alice were the good lady¡¯s guests, but he was taking her generosity for granted with this sort of behaviour. When he stood back up again ¨C Caius snatched the bundle from his arms and brought them to the table, quickly arranging them and the others into a rough form.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he asked again. The pages were covered with names, and sketches of faces, and connected with long pencil lines intended to direct the eye to relevant information. Of note was a page seemingly dedicated to Cordia, whose face was now crossed out with a bold X mark.

    ¡°I got in touch with a contact of mine and scrounged up every piece of information I could about the people trying to murder us and Mister Clemens. It¡¯s a sort of organized chaos at the moment.¡±

    Franklin tapped his finger against Cordia¡¯s, ¡°What is amiss with Cordia?¡±

    Caius grit his teeth and spoke under his breath, ¡°She fell off a building and died.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Franklin snapped harshly, ¡°How on earth did that happen?¡±

    ¡°She was at the tennis tournament in the city trying to kill a few of the Social Democratic council members with a knife. When I caught her and gave chase, she made her escape across the rooftops until she lost her footing, and then... Well ¨C I needn¡¯t speak of the grisly scene that unfolded after that.¡±

    ¡°Unbelievable.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s thrown my little organization tree here into disarray. Cordia was the one coordinating the more violent elements of their plan, and I don¡¯t suppose it¡¯ll be easy to replace her.¡±

    Cordia was connected with Lady Franzheim and Claris Rentree, though a note attached to Franzheim made it clear that she was not the one who commanded her loyalty. Rentree dispatched Cordia to keep an eye on her.

    The second big branch belonged to Thersyn Bradley ¨C the news tycoon and business magnate who came from comparatively humble beginnings. Several unfamiliar names were connected to him.

    ¡°This looks like an almighty mess,¡± Franklin sighed.

    ¡°These schemes are never simple. They¡¯re designed to protect the people at the top here from the consequences should matters turn against them. That means they utilise dozens of lower-level pawns, who give orders on their behalf to independent mercenaries and criminals.¡±

    ¡°And these folks really want to kill Sir Clemens?¡±

    ¡°Him, and anybody else running on the Social Democratic ticket. This is all about politics, getting the best possible result in the upcoming election. They don¡¯t care who they hurt in the process.¡±

    Franklin clenched his fist, ¡°I cannot say I approve of your past behaviour, but attacking any one of the Walston-Carter family is abhorrent. I made an oath to protect not just Lady Maria ¨C but every member of the family with the same zeal and determination.¡±

    Caius chuckled and looked down to the floor, ¡°It¡¯s all well and good to say that, but do you think you¡¯re capable of dealing with a group of violent people? I¡¯m no fighter either, but they will hold no reservations about doing harm should it come to that.¡±

    Franklin stood firm, ¡°I may not be capable of fighting but the power of a single man is still enough to make a difference.¡±

    ¡°A noble sentiment if I¡¯ve ever heard one. But it will take more than the likes of me and you to untangle this particular web. Mister Clemens isn¡¯t the only one under threat, and if they succeed it could plunge this nation into a brutal civil war once again.¡±

    Franklin¡¯s gaze hardened, ¡°My Father died in the fighting. They mean to unleash that agony onto others?¡±

    ¡°My Uncle and Grandfather were also killed,¡± Caius revealed, ¡°The stress of the whole thing led to our parents passing away. Now it¡¯s just me and Alice. I owe it to her, and everyone who lost in that war, to stop it from happening again.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Those don¡¯t sound like the words of a thief to me.¡±

    Caius smiled, ¡°Because I speak to you not as a thief, but as a man, and a brother.¡±

    Franklin watched Alice, happily kicking her legs beneath the covers of the grand bed with a book in hand. What great pains he must have taken for her sake. Though his actions were immoral, his intentions were as pure as the winter snow.

    ¡°You know ¨C Caius was a pseudonym that my old man invented. He swore down on his life that he was never going to show me how to do what he did. That changed really quickly once the other side of our family ran into trouble. He knew that things were going to be tough, so he wanted to give me and Alice a fighting chance. A lot of people tried to steal it from him, but they didn¡¯t work the way he did, or I do. When someone investigates a break-in, they know from the outset who did it.¡±

    Caius removed his hat and laid it out on the table.

    ¡°Now I¡¯m thinking that this might be Caius¡¯ last ride.¡±

    Franklin remained silent and mulled over his words. Were they a demonstration of his suicidal dedication to the goal, or merely an expression of his hope for a brighter, less criminally orientated future?

    He could only reply with a single warning; ¡°Don¡¯t go making that poor girl sad, Caius.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t. I promise.¡±

 Chapter 68

    ¡°...So, I was thinking of choosing biology, social science and politics.¡±

    I stared a hole through the wall behind Samantha¡¯s head as we awaited the arrival of Caius. It was time for us to make our move and put the kibosh on whatever plans the monarchists were cooking up in the background. Caius summoned both of us to the manor, claiming that he had all of the information we¡¯d need to launch an attack.

    Sam begged to come along for the ride. She was capable ¨C but I doubted her ability to help given the violent context in which we were going to act. Those judo throws couldn¡¯t stop a bullet. My eyes drifted to the books lent to me by Miss Jennings, once again left neglected and unread. Finding time to practice what was inside them was tough.

    ¡°Do you have anything planned?¡± she asked.

    ¡°No. I already told you ¨C the only thing I¡¯m good at is killing. I can coast through my years at the academy and live off of my family¡¯s wealth for the rest of my days.¡±

    ¡°Do you really want to do that?¡± Samantha replied pointedly. She knew me too well to fall for that bold-faced lie.

    ¡°Sometimes it isn¡¯t about what I want. I wanted to solve the situation involving Felipe without turning it into such a damn bloodbath, but they were not open to negotiation or reason.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll regret it if you pass on the opportunity. Just pick subjects that you like. They don¡¯t have to lead you to a job, since you¡¯re already so affluent.¡±

    The problem was that I couldn¡¯t pick any subjects from the pack. Magic was a given, but it was also not an elective subject. It was added to the top of what else we selected. I got good grades in all of them, but picking three or four topics I enjoyed delving into was impossible. My head wasn¡¯t in the right place.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t come here to chatter about our elective subjects, Samantha.¡±

    She shrugged, ¡°What else can we do? Caius isn¡¯t here yet.¡±

    She said the magic words though. The door swung open and shut again, with Caius quickly slipping in and approaching us at the table.

    ¡°Sorry for the wait. Alice was being troublesome.¡±

    I waved him off, ¡°We haven¡¯t been waiting for long. I do hope that you have something good for us. With Cordia¡¯s last attempt to kill the council members, we can no longer sit back idly and allow them to make the first move.¡±

    He responded by slamming a heavy stack of papers down in front of us. They spilt out in all directions, his hands scrambling to arrange them into some sort of organized chart. Dozens of names and faces were recorded for our viewing convenience.

    He spoke while working, ¡°This is every last drop of information that I¡¯ve been able to squeeze from every last informant working from here to the dockyard district. You have no idea how much effort it was to get all of this. I couldn¡¯t exactly pay them for it, so I had to do a lot of favours.¡±

    This was starting to remind me of Claude¡¯s conspiracy wall ¨C now sadly removed from the dorm room. Caius was a talented sketch artist. He drew all of the portraits himself. The resemblances were striking in their accuracy, the exaggerated forms and key details serving to make them immediately recognizable on both sides of the divide.

    ¡°But we still never learned what the watch was for.¡±

    Caius sighed, ¡°Not that it matters now. Cordia is gone, and the police have returned it to Adrian Roderro. It¡¯s safe to say that it no longer plays into our calculations.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t so sure about that. It felt like we were missing a piece of the puzzle. Cordia did use that watch during her attack at the tennis tournament, but she never got close to injuring anybody before Caius rumbled her and chased her away. Was it meant to be used pre-emptively? It didn¡¯t help her escape, and it wasn¡¯t capable of closing a gap.

    Caius¡¯ words did have a certain appealing logic. The long and short of it was that Cordia was dead, and the monarchists no longer possessed the watch as a result. Answers as to what it actually did would only come from the mouth of Adrian. That would require that stars align.

    ¡°What I learnt from my expedition is that, first and foremost, nobody has the foggiest darn idea about Thersyn and his Scuncath connections. I didn¡¯t ask them directly ¨C but nobody keeps a track of what those people are doing. They see it as a random pattern of violence, not actions motivated by a reason.¡±

    ¡°He must know a few of his fellow cultists.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a certainty, but it¡¯s unlikely that we can use them to get to Thersyn. The easiest way to tackle him would be to get the police to search his house and lead them to the torture chamber.¡±

    ¡°Torture chamber?¡± Samantha murmured. She was already getting rattled by it.

    ¡°I have a lot of pull, but the police aren¡¯t going to raid someone that important based on the word of a thirteen-year-old girl.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. The next best plan would be to lure them there with an unrelated offense. Knocking him out of the structure would cripple their media messaging in the aftermath of the assassinations.¡±

    ¡°And Claris Rentree?¡±

    Her connection to the rest was severed with the death of Cordia.

    ¡°Cordia was loyal to a fault. The only reason she ever left her contract was to get in close with another person they needed to manipulate. She had eyes and ears everywhere and knew where to hire killers for whatever jobs needed doing. Claris was the one who gave her that opportunity. She¡¯s still a high-level member of the plot.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°She¡¯s too rich to cut loose.¡±

    ¡°Those fellows in the south are obsessed with the monarchy. It¡¯s the perfect place to ferment obedient little extremists like Claris. She has tendrils in every noble family you can think of, and she¡¯ll call in some favours of her own when the time is right. She¡¯s the political firepower.¡±

    ¡°What about Lady Franzheim?¡±

    ¡°As far as I can tell ¨C she¡¯s one of the toadies that Claris hooked early on. She¡¯s one of their northern collaborators, leaning on MPs to turn in the direction of the Van Walser family. She¡¯s expendable, and that¡¯s why Cordia was assigned to her as a leash handler.¡±

    There was one thing missing from the map.

    ¡°Who is in charge?¡±

    Caius laughed, ¡°I have no idea. I¡¯ve heard talk that there is somebody on top, running the show, but I don¡¯t believe it. I think they¡¯ve all come together with their different motives with the same aim, and that all the rumours about someone upstairs are just designed to scare the pawns back into line. You don¡¯t get much bigger than Thersyn Bradley or Duchess Rentree.¡±

    I shuffled through some of the pages and took in the information contained on them, ¡°Not that it matters. If we eliminate the middle of this conspiracy, the top level won¡¯t be left with any pieces to play. It¡¯ll crumble like a house of cards.¡±

    ¡°Eliminate?¡± Caius repeated.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean that literally. I¡¯d much rather handle this without risking my life in a gunfight or anything of the sort. We have to take the initiative and strike before they can respond or adapt.¡±

    Samantha was utterly bewildered by all of this. Caius and I were talking over her head as she tried to comprehend the veritable explosion of documents, names, faces and plans. She tensed up in her seat and didn¡¯t relax until I told her to chill out.

    ¡°Breathe, Samantha. What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    She grimaced, ¡°Seeing all of this is putting it into perspective. These folks are really dangerous, that¡¯s what you were trying to warn me about before I came here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to pretend that they¡¯re harmless, no. You can back out if you want ¨C there¡¯s nothing forcing you to come with us.¡±

    Samantha found that objectionable, she rose from her chair and wagged her finger at me, ¡°I have a good reason to be here. You¡¯re my friend, and I¡¯m not going to let you risk your life without standing by your side.¡±

    I turned that sentiment back on her; ¡°I don¡¯t feel like endangering you either. Look at this practically for a moment, do you believe that you can do what is necessary to protect me if I were to end up in a bad situation?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point,¡± she argued, ¡°It¡¯s the thought of it that matters to me. I have an opportunity to help you, what kind of friend would I be if I turned my back now and ran for the hills? Dad would be furious with me if he found out.¡±

    Me thinks that he¡¯d be even angrier if he found out that his daughter was diving headfirst into dangerous situations where she had no right to be. How far could standing up for your friends really go?

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to do this to prove your earnestness. I understand completely if you chose to step back and protect yourself. It would be immensely selfish of me to condition our relationship on something this unreasonable. If we were smart, we¡¯d try to find a safer way of resolving this situation, but that also runs the risk of them launching their scheme and killing my Uncle.¡±

    The problem was that Samantha was as stubborn as a mule. She¡¯d been raised in a particular way that gave her a strong sense of what was right and wrong. Not the ideal companion to someone like me ¨C who relished in blurring the lines to do terrible deeds. She believed that helping me here was the right course of action regardless of the act itself.

    Caius stepped in to break up our argument, ¡°Now, now ¨C Ladies. We haven¡¯t settled on a plan yet! As Maria says, we are intending to settle this without violence. Let¡¯s wait until we have a firm grasp of the situation before coming to a judgement.¡±

    I slumped back on my chair, ¡°And what do you suppose the best course of action is?¡±

    ¡°Well, Thersyn has a bloody dead body in his basement, and he isn¡¯t exactly acting in the interest of the other schemers with his Scuncath creed. Driving a wedge between them using that information seems like the easiest way of picking apart the plan.¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°That sounds doable.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not going to be easy to lead the police into his office. I imagine that he¡¯ll be very cautious about inviting anyone inside or reporting crimes that occur on his property,¡± Caius mused.

    I chuckled, ¡°Then we have to leave him with no choice in the matter. Find a way to keep the secret door open, and make a very good reason for the authorities to visit his home when he least expects it.¡±

    Like...

    ¡°A fire?¡± Samantha offered.

    ¡°Exactly. Light a small fire in his home, one that he won¡¯t be capable of putting out, and he¡¯ll be forced to call for the fire brigade to visit. Caius can sneak into his office while he¡¯s distracted and open the door.¡±

    Samantha leapt out of her chair, ¡°Wait a second ¨C we¡¯re not burning down someone¡¯s house because I suggested it! That¡¯s crazy!¡±

    ¡°It is crazy, but how else can we get a set of eyes on that building without doing so? He won¡¯t call the police for a break-in. It has to be a problem that he can¡¯t ignore or solve for himself. He can choose between his liberty or his property.¡±

    ¡°And what if there¡¯s someone else in that house when we do it?¡±

    Caius already scouted that out, ¡°He doesn¡¯t hire regular assistants, just a pair of guards who stand on the perimeter. If we set a blaze in a location that they can see ¨C they¡¯ll run to the nearest fire post and sound the alarm.¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    This plan was brutish but effective. If Thersyn refused to allow the fire volunteers onto his property and let the house burn to the ground, it would launch a police investigation into what happened. The only way out would be to claim that he accidentally burned his own house down.

    If not ¨C they¡¯d pick through the wreckage and inevitably come upon the secret passageway that Caius described to me. It was a long underground tunnel built from stone, so it wouldn¡¯t go down with the rest of the building. I could see the scene in my mind. A group of investigators picking through the wreckage of his office, only to find the entrance revealed by the fire burning away the bookcase that once concealed it. They¡¯d venture inside out of curiosity and find his ritual sacrifice, before hurrying away to report it to the police.

    A dead body on his property? It was an open and shut case, and someone as high profile as Thersyn Bradley being arrested would be front page news across the nation, even in the papers that he owned. They couldn¡¯t pass up on the opportunity to sell volumes with the hottest story around.

    Samantha was regretting her suggestion already.

    ¡°Ugh ¨C you two are unbelievable. I should have kept quiet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll get out just fine,¡± Caius snickered, ¡°And we¡¯re dealing with a full-blown cultist murderer here. It¡¯s hard for me to feel sorry for the bloke considering what I saw down there.¡±

    And the immense quantities of falsehood and slander he pushed into the public square via his newspapers. He was a parasite of the worst sort, dancing to the tune of whatever leader offered him the best return on investment. I doubted that Thersyn legitimately believed in restoring the full powers of the monarchy ¨C it was just a convenient line to take when selling papers to rural towns and villages.

    Spilling blood for the Dark Goddess showed where his true loyalties lay. He was here to spread as much chaos and destruction as possible. He wasn¡¯t going to put his neck on the line for the monarchists if he didn¡¯t have to.

    I rose from my chair and headed to the wardrobe, pulling out one of the suitcases that I¡¯d left behind from the bottom well. I scrolled through the digits on the lock and opened it, revealing absolutely nothing. The untrained eye wouldn¡¯t suspect that there was a secret compartment inside. Samantha hovered over my shoulder, gasping out loud when I pulled away the felt base and revealed what was hiding beneath.

    ¡°Where did you get all of these?¡± Samantha asked.

    The trunk was filled with ¡®spares,¡¯ guns I¡¯d found and taken over the past few months, just in case an incident like the one at the theatre occurred again. There were four additional handguns stored in there, hidden from sight and chained behind a lock.

    I took one of the guns and offered it to Caius.

    ¡°Just in case.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never killed anyone before and I have no intent of starting now,¡± Caius clarified, rejecting the outstretched firearm with his palm.

    I pulled the gun away and placed it back into the trunk, ¡°If that¡¯s the case we¡¯ll need to be extra cautious, although to be honest that¡¯s my preferred way of doing things. Making a lot of noise will only make life harder.¡±

    Caius seemed to snap back to reality for a moment, ¡°Hold on. Why do you have all of these guns?¡±

    I responded with an observation, ¡°Why was I capable of fighting you in hand-to-hand combat and winning?¡±

    Caius frowned. Had he compartmentalized that incident away since the panic of protecting Alice arose? I¡¯d beaten the seven hells out of him at Clemens¡¯ house and extorted him to turn on his allies. Those weren¡¯t actions that a normal girl would take.

    ¡°Are you seriously implying that you¡¯re a Sturml?ufer?¡±

    The confusion on my features was clear to see; ¡°A what?¡±

    ¡°Sturml?ufer. It¡¯s an urban legend that the provisional government kidnapped and trained a bunch of secret policewomen from a young age, they were mostly girls because they could get into places that most men couldn¡¯t without arousing suspicion. My grandfather used to tell me that they¡¯d come and grab me in the night if I kept being a naughty boy.¡±

    Why on earth were the secret police being used as a metaphorical monster under the bed? I was genuinely confused.

    ¡°Uh, no. I¡¯m no Sturml?ufer. I was born and raised in this house, and I don¡¯t recall ever being kidnapped by the government for secret assassin training.¡±

    ¡°Heh. You do fit the bill to a tee though. Pretty young girl, hiding a vicious secret, running around and getting herself involved in the fate of the nation at large. We could use that and really put the fear into him...¡±

    I snapped my fingers, ¡°You know what? That¡¯s a fantastic idea. He must know that a stranger tailed Cordia to her apartment if they¡¯re communicating with each other. We could use that to intimidate him, instead of burning his house down and leaving it to chance.¡±

    Caius was waiting for a moment like this. He hustled over to the bed and pulled his own case of goodies from beneath. Unlike mine ¨C his were significantly less suspect. They were a set of three masks, normally used during Walser¡¯s harvest season festivals to ward away ill weathers.

    Each one was carved into the figure of a Walserian Half-Hawk, a chimera like creature with the head of a hawk and the body of an equine. No, not a lion, we weren¡¯t in a hot enough climate for that sort of thing. The masks themselves consisted of two separate wooden pieces. The top half was the hawk¡¯s head, ears and upper-beak, while the lower half was mainly intended to keep the mask clamped around your head and secured into place.

    The curvature of the beak was such that it covered the wearer¡¯s brow and nose, while leaving their eyes clear for visibility purposes. It was tradition for the wearer to don a black mask to simulate the opened maw and enhance the illusion. All three were decorated in different shades of brown and black, with pastel accents like cyan, yellow and pink added for the sake of celebration.

    ¡°I picked these up because Alice always loves the harvest festivals, but perhaps we can use them to put a different coat of paint on our efforts to stop them.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were too attached to that Caius Willow persona of yours,¡± Samantha quipped.

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that the gentleman thief act will have the intended effect, unfortunately. How about this? I set up the kindling downstairs and keep watch, while you two make Thersyn believe that he¡¯s received a visit from those legendary killers.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°That sounds acceptable. I can be very convincing.¡±

    Though with Samantha present, I couldn¡¯t rely on some of my usual techniques. Beating and maiming someone was not an effective way to gather information, but you still needed to lean on them hard to get useful titbits. We were looking for the names of everyone in the organisation and what they were planning to do with the list.

    Samantha took one of the harvest masks and tried it on while Caius and I hashed out the last details of our plan. He¡¯d prime the place for a fire while keeping an eye out for the guards that Thersyn contracted. Confining him to the interior space of the house would prevent him from crying for help once we showed ourselves.

    It was time to go on the attack.

    <hr>

    Thersyn was worried about us.

    Caius¡¯ previous visit to the house did not go unnoticed. Two additional guards now watched the perimeter of the property, but he still refused to allow them inside. The ultimate flaw with his plan was that he needed to keep curious eyes away from his home office. He couldn¡¯t risk letting them patrol inside, lest they discover the grisly secret beneath.

    That suited us just fine. Two extra guards weren¡¯t going to pose a difficulty to our plan. We donned our half-hawk masks and descended onto the grounds through a small gate at the rear, which Caius deftly picked through using a pair of metal tools.

    ¡°This is exciting,¡± Samantha whispered, ¡°Breaking the rules ¨C sneaking into someone¡¯s house...¡±

    ¡°Really? It makes me nervous,¡± Caius responded.

    We crept through the back garden and towards the rear patio doors. Caius worked his magic again and we were in. He hoisted the can of ethanol into his arms and nodded in our direction. That was our cue to find Thersyn and make him piss his pants. Samantha followed me up the stairs, while Caius found some kindling to use with his alcoholic starter fluid.

    I drew my gun and approached the bedroom door.

    ¡°The safety¡¯s on,¡± I stated to Samantha. I was about to do something that would make her panic otherwise. I wound up and kicked the door through, breaking the metal hinges and causing it to slump down. The flailing form of Thersyn Bradley wrestled with his bedsheets, eventually tumbling down onto the floor with a pained grunt.

    His disorientation was exactly what we needed. I charged at him and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing the cold steel of the gun barrel against his skull. His movements came to a sudden end.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he barked.

    Samantha hurried over and bound his arms together so that he couldn¡¯t fight back. I dragged him away from the bed and forced him down onto one of the armchairs located near the fireplace. With that done ¨C I finally removed the comforter that had somehow become entangled around his head.

    It must have been a terrifying sight, two strangers looming over you in strange masks, illuminated by the moonlight coming from your window. He could only see the whites out of our eyes peeking out through the black veils. There was a moment of recognition when he finally noticed how short I was.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be shitting me!¡±

    ¡°No, I am not ¡®shitting you.¡¯ Mister Bradley ¨C I take it that you understand why we¡¯re here?¡±

    He shook his head with clenched teeth. Playing ignorant. Samantha pulled out her own bottle of ethanol and made a theatrical performance of dousing the floor with it.

    ¡°I want names and plans ¨C and I don¡¯t want to hear your objections. If not, we¡¯re going to make your life extremely difficult.¡±

    ¡°Kill me if you please. I¡¯m not saying a word!¡± he spat. The panic in his voice was the only evidence I needed to confirm that he believed we were the Sturml?ufer. A pair of young girls breaking into his house in the dead of night and holding him at gunpoint, that was the narrative we were trying to piece together.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill you, Thersyn. Killing you would mean missing out on the information that we¡¯re looking for, and that wouldn¡¯t be constructive for any of us.¡±

    I started to pace around him, intentionally planting my hand on his shoulder. He flinched, and I leaned in closer to let him know what the score was.

    ¡°I have a lot of ways to end your life that don¡¯t require the pull of a trigger, like that wonderful art display you¡¯ve constructed in the basement. What do you think the police will do if they find out about that?¡±

    He grimaced, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°Oh, come on now. There¡¯s no need to be shy! I thought you Scuncath were all too eager to share your beliefs with the unwashed masses! Or do you imagine that they¡¯ll take a much dimmer view of the violent murder than you¡¯d prefer? I thought about reporting the matter to them directly, but then I realised that it would be a terrible waste of some very good blackmail.¡±

    Samantha finished setting up the firebomb against one of the bookshelves in the room. Those pages would go up real nice with a single spark, quickly spreading to the wooden floors and through the rest of the building.

    ¡°I¡¯m giving you a simple choice, Thersyn. You can tell me what you know about Lady Rentree and her plan - and keep your freedom, or you can lie and obfuscate, and I¡¯ll simply destroy your property and see you housed in the finest jail cell around. Can you picture it? Those brave volunteers coming across that mysterious passageway in the smouldering rubble of your manor, and what lies beyond.¡±

    My ratcheting of the tension was working as intended. He was picturing it clearly, the exact moment in which his carefully crafted fa?ade fell to pieces, and the dashing of any chance to use Rentree as a wedge to ferment fresh violence. He could turn away the police within reason; they¡¯d need warrants and procedure, but he could not turn away the fire service without arousing rightful suspicion about his motives.

    He cracked.

    ¡°Under the bed, the red chest ¨C the code is 39678.¡±

    Samantha followed his directions and lugged the heavy container from its hiding place. She dialled in the numbers and released the padlock. Whatever I was expecting from the inside, it was not what we actually found. The entire chest was stuffed from base to lid with thousands of documents.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Every bloody letter I¡¯ve sent and received about it for the past year.¡±

    It seemed that their lack of trust in each other was a shared phenomenon. Cordia did the exact same thing, she kept her correspondence even when the letters explicitly asked her to burn them after reading.

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Samantha confirmed, ¡°There¡¯s one here addressed to Duchess Rentree.¡±

    ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that convenient,¡± I pulled Thersyn back to his feet and directed him with the gun, ¡°Pick it up.¡± Thersyn scowled but did as we asked, leaning down and hooking his bound hands around one of the handles, while Samantha took the other.

    I let him lead us down the stairs and into the back sitting room. Caius was waiting for us there, relieving him of the burden by pushing him out of the way and taking the front side for himself. We weren¡¯t going to let him go outside with the guards around.

    ¡°You¡¯re Sturml?ufer, aren¡¯t you? A bunch of brainwashed government mutts!¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh, ¡°Ohohohoho! I don¡¯t recall saying that we belonged to the Sturml?ufer, Mister Bradley! Is your overactive imagination getting the better of you again?¡±

    He looked like a sad puppy having now realised that he¡¯d been had. I was happy to play along with his delusions so long as they helped us get to what we needed.

    ¡°This is your last chance to share any other pertinent information with us,¡± I concluded, ¡°I would suggest making it good because your fellow conspirators are not going to be well-pleased about this. We¡¯ll take care of them for you.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    I stared at him for almost a minute straight to give him time to stew on my generous offer. He did not elect to take it and divulge any more than what we could discern from the documents. I shuffled through some of them in front of him and made sure that it was enough for us to go on. These were much more revealing than the ones sent to Cordia, with a lot of unfamiliar names cropping up in the body of the text. I put them back and sighed.

    ¡°Happy to do business with you, Thersyn. Hopefully, this will be the last time we speak.¡±

    ¡°Charmed, you bitch. I¡¯m not going to rest until I have your damn head on that pedestal. I¡¯ll use your blood to bring the Dark Goddess back!¡±

    ¡°Big words from a man with his hands tied behind his back.¡±

    I snapped my fingers and Caius lit up a spark using his magic.

    ¡°Wait, wait! Wait ¨C what the hell are you doing?!¡±

    ¡°Goodbye, Thersyn.¡±

    Caius underarm tossed the sparks into the reading room and stepped back as a violent flash of flame engulfed the area. The ethanol took light and started to spread between the various wooden fittings in the house. We took the chest and walked out onto the patio, with Thersyn in hot pursuit. Samantha lagged behind in shock. She wasn¡¯t expecting us to go ahead and do it anyway.

    ¡°You damned cur! I¡¯ll have your head for this! You better sleep with one eye open from now on!¡±

    There was nothing he could do about it. We marched down into the garden and through the back gate as he tried desperately to summon help from the guards. We were already making egress through the woods before they could find us. The orange light of the fire framed the tall wooden trees that surrounded us.

    Samantha was quick to take us to task.

    ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ holy name are you two doing? I thought we weren¡¯t going to burn the damn house down!¡±

    I inhaled and kept the chest held aloft, ¡°And let him kill more innocent people for his sick games? Not a chance. Additionally - if word of him being a Scuncath gets out to the press, it¡¯ll cause chaos for the conspirators.¡±

    Caius cut in, ¡°Can you save the debate for later? We need to toss this thing onto the cart before the firemen come knocking.¡±

    Samantha struggled to conceal her dissatisfaction with how I ignored her objections to burning the manor down, but at the time I was not in the mood to argue about it. I could have put a bullet through him and had the same outcome, but I compromised for her sake. A house could be rebuilt, after all.

    Once we were far enough down the road we removed our disguises and threw the chest into the back of a rented cart. Caius took the reins and we departed from the sight of the fire. The next challenge would be to dig through the documents and find what we were looking for. I sat opposite Samantha as the cart trundled down the road, but her eyes were looking anywhere else but me.

 Chapter 69

    Samantha was absolutely furious with me. I¡¯d gone against what she wanted and ordered Caius to burn down Thersyn¡¯s home even after he handed us the information we were looking for. He sat quietly on one side of the room and picked through the huge pile of correspondence between Thersyn and the other conspirators. He had no dog in this fight.

    One problem ¨C he couldn¡¯t focus with us yelling at each other.

    ¡°I told you that I didn¡¯t want to burn his damn house down! You¡¯re crazier than a horse in rut!¡±

    I tried to keep my voice even, ¡°And what do you think would happen if we left him as he was? He¡¯d go on to kill a lot more people, people who could be protected if only we took drastic action.¡±

    ¡°Then just call the police!¡±

    I laughed breathlessly, ¡°The police? Sure, a thirteen-year-old girl approaches the police box and tells them that she somehow found a dead body in the basement of a complete stranger. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be right around to investigate at the first opportunity.¡±

    Samantha frowned but remained silent. Caius sensed that this wasn¡¯t his argument to witness, ducking out through the door and closing it behind him until the storm blew over.

    ¡°I have some sobering news for you, Samantha. There are people in this world who know how to play the game ¨C who know how to break the rules and get away with it. Purity in methodology will only result in them walking free to harm more victims in due course. We did what we had to. Thersyn won¡¯t be murdering any more victims because of us.¡±

    ¡°There had to be a better way,¡± she repeated ¨C failing to comprehend the scope of my argument.

    ¡°You said that you thought I was a good person. Would you like to retract that statement?¡±

    Samantha bristled at the suggestion, ¡°However vicious you might be, I still stand by what I said. The methods are questionable but they are in service of a good end, aren¡¯t they?¡±

    I stared at her and delivered a frank assessment, ¡°I¡¯m doing this because I think it¡¯ll help protect me. Please don¡¯t mistake that for being selfless. That¡¯s a description reserved for people who deserve it.¡±

    I could see the air escaping from her lungs as she slumped over and planted her hands on the table that stood between us. We were both being stubborn idiots, refusing to back down from our position purely for the sake of having the last word. I was in too deep to realise it though.

    ¡°So what? You think you don¡¯t deserve to be described like that? It¡¯s my right to use whatever words I please,¡± Samantha shot back. She was avoiding my central point. From the first moment that we met, up until she discovered my secret, Samantha always assumed the best. Why did she have such a firm, blind belief that I was doing this for anyone but myself?

    ¡°If you knew half of the things I¡¯ve done, you wouldn¡¯t be saying that.¡±

    ¡°You never told me what you did in the first place, so I don¡¯t see the difference. You keep acting like you don¡¯t care about what other people think ¨C but at the same time you refuse to tell me because you¡¯re scared of my reaction.¡±

    I paused. That was an unusually perceptive observation from Samantha, so much so that I hadn¡¯t even considered it myself until she said it out loud. I was doing that. She¡¯d diagnosed the problem. I did care too much. All of my snide comments and cold behaviour had convinced me that there was no reason to fear becoming involved with other people. But here I was, dancing around the point to try and preserve a relationship that a few weeks ago I was convinced I didn¡¯t want or need.

    The problem was twofold. The truth was too absurd for Samantha to believe, and it didn¡¯t change the fact that she was angry at me for going over her head and burning Thersyn¡¯s house down. The best course of action was to shut my mouth and defuse the argument.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe it. That¡¯s all.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t ¡®all,¡¯ but Samantha knew she couldn¡¯t pry any more from me than that.

    ¡°Thersyn is a violent criminal. Do you honestly think that losing his home is too much? He has bigger things to worry about now. Either he lies and tells them that it was an accident, or he tells them it was arson and runs the risk of their investigation finding out about his sacrificial killings. I could have released the safety and killed him, then and there, but I didn¡¯t ¨C because I was being considerate of you.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m meant to be happy about that?¡± she scoffed, ¡°That you crossed a line I drew instead of doing something even worse.¡±

    ¡°It was only a house. He can afford five more to replace it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be rightly furious if anyone burned down our farm. That¡¯s where I was born, and it¡¯s where my family has been for nearly a hundred years.¡±

    Conflating her attachment to her own home with a house owned by a man with more money than sense was foolish. I didn¡¯t understand. Burning down the house was kinder than putting a bullet in him and being done with it. He was going to get the opportunity to present his defence to the courts, should it come to that. Such mercy was not displayed to the men and women he eviscerated to try and summon the Dark Goddess.

    ¡°Resolving this problem will require us to take action that you will find uncomfortable. I warned you. These people are willing to use whatever violence they deem necessary to achieve their goals. Attempting to engage them with reason is an easy way to find yourself on the sharp end of their blade.¡±

    Samantha exhaled and adopted a more relaxed posture, ¡°You did warn me, but it still makes me uncomfortable.¡±

    Sensing that the debate was over, Caius returned to the room and proceeded with his previous thankless task of sorting through all of the documents. I approached and split the pile in two, taking my time to study the contents of each letter in finer detail.

    A lot of the contents could be safely discarded as irrelevant to our goals. There were a lot of pleasantries exchanged with the singular purpose of fulfilling the ¡®social contract¡¯ between Thersyn and his co-conspirators. They expected him to bend over backwards and kiss the ring at every opportunity because he didn¡¯t come from an established noble family.

    Once he was done giving them a loving spit shine, the real meat of the letters started. The disconnected pieces were difficult to understand at first, but Caius¡¯ organisation system did wonders to make everything fit. Each person was sorted into two piles. One which contained nothing pertinent, and another which contained letters which directly discussed some of the criminal actions they were taking.

    It took us two hours (and some tea delivered by Franklin,) for the work to be completed. The floor was covered in a dozen piles of paper ¨C carefully categorized to give us a clear image of the plot as a whole.

    ¡°This is bigger than I expected,¡± Caius commented, ¡°And some of the names that are involved are surprising.¡±

    All of our previous suspects were represented. Thersyn, Duchess Rentree, Lady Franzheim, and Cordia, who was seemingly responsible for a lot of the groundwork.

    ¡°They were very pleased about getting their hands on that party list,¡± I noted.

    Caius gritted his teeth; ¡°Sorry!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not fishing for an apology. It¡¯s interesting ¨C they were considering targeting some of the other Republican parties, but the Social Democrat¡¯s strength in the pre-election polls has scared them. They want to dent their numbers as much as possible before the vote.¡±

    Samantha scratched her chin, ¡°Why are the Social Democrats so popular, anyway?¡±

    Caius explained, ¡°They¡¯re the lynchpin holding the Republican coalition together, and they have a lot of charismatic faces who are ingratiating themselves with voters. There¡¯s a popular perception that they¡¯re the most competent party in the house. They¡¯re sucking the air from the room and consolidating the democratic vote, but even a small adjustment in their direction will have an outsized effect in terms of seats won.¡±

    The wonders of first-past-the-post. It wasn¡¯t about being the most popular, it was about exploiting the electoral boundaries and fighting off your competitors. The Monarchists were more united than the Republicans ¨C but they also had a smaller proportion of the popular vote. Consolidation of the Republican vote behind the Social Democrats would be disastrous for them, a raft of legislation they¡¯d rather be without would surely follow.

    Beyond that, success begets further success. Once people realised that the Social Democrats were the most viable option they would be able to consistently vie for the top dog spot in each subsequent election that followed. It would be a gradual erosion of everything they stood for.

    That was the urgency that drove them. People would not be so happy to give up additional rights granted to them by a democratic movement. It would bind their hands even if they did return to power in the future, and they didn¡¯t like the word ¡®compromise¡¯ one bit.

    ¡°There¡¯s still a risk that they could target members from the other parties,¡± Caius said.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. We¡¯ll need to disable their ability to launch attacks against the MPs. Running from place to place and dousing plans will allow them to act with impunity. There are more of them than us.¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Samantha got down onto her knees and took a closer look at the letters, ¡°And how do you propose that we do that?¡±

    Caius saved the day with some of his street-wise experience.

    ¡°When you get down to it the number of folks willing to kill for cash is really small. In the ¡®criminal underworld,¡¯ everyone knows everyone. Word gets around about that kind of job. For a lot of folks, it¡¯s too much trouble to consider.¡±

    ¡°So, who would agree to an assassination job?¡± she asked.

    ¡°There are three gangs who get their fingers into a business like that, but Tee¡¯s Gang fell apart after Roderro got busted for hiring them. The other two are more choosey with their clients, and generally go about it in a subtler way. They¡¯re the Church Walk Family, and a group of loosely affiliated killers led by a guy called Marco Fisichella.¡±

    Caius explained in detail who both of these groups were.

    The Church Walk Family, or gang, depending on who you asked ¨C were one of the original big street gangs in Walser. They came from the eponymous religious district in the city and were originally founded as a protection racket for persecuted believers. Once that period of religious unrest came to an end, they morphed into something less noble.

    Caius wouldn¡¯t touch the area with a ten-foot pole unless he really had to. They were extremely territorial and prone to random acts of violence. They happily accepted hits on various individuals so long as the pay was good enough. Even if there was no clean way to do it ¨C they¡¯d still follow through and let one of their members earn their stripes in prison.

    Marco Fisichella leaned towards the more professional side of the scale. He was a bona fide hitman with a lengthy list of clients. He eventually sprouted roots and formed his own network of like-minded assassins who helped him with his jobs. He was more troublesome to locate because of his reclusive nature.

    ¡°If you want to get solid information on either of them, it¡¯s going to come at a high price. My informants risk their skin by handing out anything on either of them. There¡¯s a danger fee associated with that.¡±

    ¡°Would my allowance cover it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Allowance,¡± Caius muttered with envy, ¡°Sure. I think that should let us get what we¡¯re looking for. The Church Street lot is visible enough without relying on that though. I¡¯d suggest saving the lion¡¯s share for eyes on Marco.¡±

    ¡°All we need to know is if these people have hired them. There might even be a clue in these writings that we haven¡¯t seen yet.¡±

    Caius grimaced as he looked down at the pile, ¡°Well, I¡¯m not exactly looking forward to going through all of these with a fine comb.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get Franklin to help. With him, you, Samantha and myself ¨C we should be able to do it within the day.¡±

    Having to work these meetings around our school week was driving me up the damn wall. It was ¡®Saturday,¡¯ so we did have a day spare to walk through all of the documents we¡¯d stolen. I was hoping that it wouldn¡¯t use up our entire day off. There were also some hours left in the evening, but Caius would rather claw his own eyes out than spend another moment looking through them after the first go around.

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a break and get something to eat,¡± I concluded, ¡°Will Alice be joining us?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes. She woke up an hour ago, and she¡¯s looking much healthier at that. We should be able to get out of your hair as soon as this matter is dealt with.¡±

    Samantha smiled, ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that. It must have been extremely stressful coping with her illness.¡±

    Caius blew it off, ¡°I won¡¯t say that it was easy ¨C but for the sake of keeping Alice healthy it wasn¡¯t much of a challenge at all, at least not until they started trying to kill us...¡±

    ¡°Is it just you and her?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Our parents unfortunately passed away some years ago now, so I have to take on the responsibility of looking after her.¡±

    Samantha shot me a quick glance, ¡°Now that I think about it, you¡¯ve never mentioned your own Mother before, Maria. For that matter ¨C there isn¡¯t a single portrait of her in this entire manor.¡±

    I was being entirely genuine when I replied with, ¡°I don¡¯t remember her, and my Father doesn¡¯t speak of her.¡±

    Not once, either in the memories I was given to further my character as Maria, nor from my time living her everyday life, had he ever so much as mentioned that I even had a mother. I didn¡¯t know her name, her face, or even when and where they met. It was a total mystery. It was almost like she never existed in the first place. How could a man go about raising a daughter without ever mentioning his partner?

    Samantha was shaken by the revelation, ¡°That¡¯s... unusual.¡±

    ¡°I hope it isn¡¯t for a bad reason,¡± Caius murmured.

    Motherless nobles were not a rarity. There were political marriages and the like, but the subtleties of the caste system meant that those same marriages could dissolve if they couldn¡¯t get along. Max¡¯s Father was divorced, for example, and he wasn¡¯t happy about the way that his Mother was removed from his life as a consequence.

    ¡°Oh, trust me ¨C if my Father was angry with her he¡¯d have already complained about it over breakfast. He isn¡¯t one to keep secrets, for better or worse. It may be that he doesn¡¯t wish to speak on the matter since she isn¡¯t here with us.¡±

    We headed to the sitting room with Alice and asked Franklin to bring us some food. The discussion turned to memories of family, with Samantha and Caius sharing stories from their respective clans. I did not have many stories of my own that would interest them. My Father was usually too busy to spend a lot of time with me, and that suited me just fine.

    With that said, he was always the first person to become all too enthused with my achievements. A collection of shooting trophies and rewards dominated one side of the manor¡¯s lobby. I was his pride and joy and he wanted every guest who swung by the manor to know it from the moment they walked through the door.

    Franklin agreed to help us with reading Thersyn¡¯s letter collection, and I also asked him to organize a spot to dispose of them. A barrel in the backyard and a match was all we really needed. I wasn¡¯t going to keep the evidence of our vigilantism on the property once we were done with it, not unless I could slip it into the hands of the police as evidence.

    A lot of the letters would not be helpful to that effort, so they¡¯d be the first on the disposal list. Franklin already handled that kind of sensitive job. There was no difference between burning business accounts and sensitive order sheets and disposing of paper-trail evidence aside from the potential consequences.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been sneaking out of Alice¡¯s room and exploring the place while nobody was around. I couldn¡¯t help but notice how many trophies you earned,¡± Caius sniped, ¡°Do you try to show everyone up, or does it just come naturally?¡±

    I placed my cup of tea down and shook my head, ¡°I think you¡¯ll find competitive shooting is the one sport I have a gift for. And it is a gift, before you ask. I wouldn¡¯t have won so many competitions if it wasn¡¯t.¡±

    Franklin sighed, ¡°I do hope that you¡¯ve been staying quiet during your little excursions. I¡¯m already running a risk by allowing you to have free roam of the manor after hours.¡±

    Caius bowed, ¡°You have my word. I won¡¯t make so much as a peep, and I¡¯ve made certain that none have seen me during those adventures.¡±

    It would be fairly easy to escape notice later at night when most of the staff were headed home. Franklin was doing an amazing job at keeping the other servants away from Alice¡¯s room. They had no idea that we were housing a pair of fugitives. Franklin handled all of the work himself to keep information from leaking, just as I¡¯d asked.

    Not that Franklin would ever knowingly place innocent people at risk. He was a certified ¡®good person,¡¯ the type you¡¯d see in feel-good news stories or fictionalised accounts. He understood the immense dangers faced by Alice and Caius, so much so that he was willing to overlook their criminal background.

    I finished the last of my meal and sighed, ¡°Back to work. Those letters won¡¯t read themselves.¡±

    Caius and Samantha couldn¡¯t have looked less enthused if they tried.

    <hr>

    ¡°Marco ¨C there¡¯s a new job for you.¡±

    Marco groaned and pulled the newspaper away from his face. The ¡®shithouse,¡¯ as his colleagues liked to call it, was always left in a tremendously chaotic state. Contrary to his professional image as a killer-for-hire Marco did not pay the same level of attention to his domestic tasks. Problems would pile high to the ceiling, both literally and figuratively, before he lifted a finger to rectify them.

    ¡°Bloody hell. When was the last time you cleaned up in here?¡±

    The curtains were thrown open, allowing sunlight to flood into the cramped room.

    Marco waved his arm, ¡°Ah, leave me be. This is my house!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you be when you stop sending your rubbish to my mailbox.¡±

    Marco snatched the letter from Tully¡¯s hand and peeled open the wax seal. Hiring him and his co-operators was no small feat. They did not advertise their services to just anybody. The interested employers would send their requests through a series of proxies until they ended up at his door, all for the sake of protecting their identities.

    The only way to know Marco was to know someone else who did ¨C and that was a vanishingly small number of residents within the city. He could already guess that they came from wealth and power, and were probably hoping to use him as a pawn in one of their idiotic games.

    Marco scanned the contents of the message, seeking out the details that meant the most to him. The targets, the requestee, and how much they were willing to pay to see the job done. This was a big one. There were a dozen targets whom he was free to select from, with more payment in exchange for more heads taken.

    It was the names that raised an alarm in his head.

    He recognised some of them, they were members of the Social Democrat party.

    ¡°Ugh. A bunch of fake kingmakers trying to sit on the throne again?¡±

    Tully shrugged, ¡°But is the pay good?¡±

    ¡°It is good ¨C but you know how troublesome people with delusions of grandeur can be. They will try to evade paying us at some point.¡±

    Fools who reneged on an agreement normally expected the consequences to play out in court. As Marco was an assassin he had no grounds by which to hire a lawyer and defend himself. No, failure to pay for your part of the deal was rectified in blood. Marco hated doing hits for free, but he needed to keep them scared so that they¡¯d pay up on time. And sometimes, if they were important enough, it was good advertising for his services.

    Tully wasn¡¯t listening ¨C the money was already going to his head, ¡°I¡¯ve been begging for another big payout lately. Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re going to turn it down.¡±

    Marco groaned. It had been a while since his last hit, and his skills were going to get rusty if he let himself atrophy like this. He grabbed a clean shirt from the wardrobe and dressed himself in a workman¡¯s jacket. The client¡¯s request came with some key deadlines that he¡¯d have to abide by.

    ¡°Is that a yes?¡± Tully inquired.

    ¡°Yes. Send them a reply, we¡¯ll remove as many of these obstacles as possible.¡±

    Tully smiled and headed back down the stairs to organize a response. Marco took a small pistol from his drawer and slid it into his beltline. The first name on the list was Clemens Walston-Carter. Marco didn¡¯t like screwing with the Walston-Carter family, they were big and affluent, and he¡¯d heard bad rumours about other guns for hire who found themselves in a shallow grave after tangling with them. It looked as if he was going to test those rumours for their veracity.

    He was hosting a campaign speech at the Henry Snow Museum. That kind of interior space suited him just fine. There were lots of corridors, nooks and crannies to hide away in until the big moment. Security was going to be light with no previous attacks on record to get their attention. He could disguise himself, get in, and get out without any trouble. An easy job for a big pile of cash.

    The rest would have to come from his own intuition and groundwork. Even having details about one target was more than most would offer to him in the initial letter, they were very confident about securing his loyalty. Marco appreciated it. He hated it when they screwed around instead of getting to the point, sending boring letters back and forth to try and secure the information he needed.

    When he finally reached the front sitting room of his home, Tully was already halfway out of the door to complete his assigned task. He paused in the entryway and turned back to him, ¡°When¡¯s the first one?¡±

    ¡°Three days. Clemens Walston-Carter is hosting an event at the Snow Museum.¡±

    Tully smiled, ¡°The museum? I love that place, it¡¯s very interesting.¡±

    ¡°I hope you have gotten your fill,¡± Marco chuckled darkly, ¡°I have a feeling that it will remain closed for some time after our upcoming visit.¡±

    Tully rolled his eyes at Marco¡¯s joke, stepping off the front porch and slipping away into the crowd. Marco pulled the door shut behind him and exhaled through his nose. He¡¯d need to prepare for a messy series of jobs, and an even messier billing process with the clients.

    ¡°Monarchists,¡± he muttered.

    But first things first ¨C the food he¡¯d left on the kitchen counter was starting to stink up the ground floor.

 Chapter 70

    A cascade of different events occurred in the following few days.

    Thersyn Bradley tried to play off the house fire as a mere accident, but the responders who arrived on the scene were quick to notice the obvious signs of arson that we¡¯d left behind. The ethanol we¡¯d spilled everywhere, and the empty cans and bottles discarded in the garden made it evident that no such story would hold under scrutiny.

    To make things even more difficult for him ¨C refusing to allow them to put out what was left of the manor would only arouse further suspicion. He stepped aside and allowed them to enter the premises, only for them to do exactly what I wanted them to. They found the secret entrance beneath the smouldered bookcase in the office, and a single curious officer discovered the body within.

    It was on the front page of every paper around the country, even the ones that he owned. Once details about what the crime scene looked like got out from some of the firemen, it was all over. Thersyn¡¯s reputation was in tatters. Even his closest allies ravaged him to pieces in the press. The mere suggestion that he was a Scuncath was enough to doom him in the eyes of most.

    The Monarchist¡¯s plans to social engineer their way into power was now in jeopardy. They would need to reassert control over the new leadership of Thersyn¡¯s newspapers, and while they may choose to tow the same editorial line, that didn¡¯t mean they were in the tank for a violent response to the upcoming election.

    As for our concern about them hiring assassins ¨C it soon became evident that Marco and his associates were given the nod. His mules were seen buzzing with activity, which meant someone was about to have a very bad day. It cost me a lot of damn money to find that out, but the answer as to who his first target would be was obvious if you applied a small amount of logical thought to it.

    It was Clemens, again.

    He was hosting a speech at the Henry Snow Memorial Museum. It was nothing special aside from the window it offered Marco to put a bullet in him. To my boundless frustration, it was also taking place in the middle of the school week, so I used some of my social capital to con my father into letting me go.

    His love of Henry Snow was so large, and his belief that it would help my future prospects so strong, that he was more than happy to contact the academy and score me a day off to go visit. I discovered that this was a frequent fixture of the academy¡¯s front office ¨C having to accommodate spoilt children and overambitious parents alike. A single day was less than what the others asked for, so it was granted easily enough.

    I even scored an extra ticket to the speech so that Caius could come with me.

    ¡°Why the hell is he hosting a speech here?¡± he asked. We stood on the balcony that overlooked the main lobby, where a small wooden stage had been erected in the centre.

    ¡°Henry Snow has a lot of loyal followers. He¡¯s essentially the second largest religious figure in Walser after the Goddess.¡±

    ¡°Right. Uplifting the working classes, that sort of thing?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°He¡¯s responsible for the wealth and prosperity that a huge portion of Walser now enjoys. His machines were revolutionary, ahead of their time even. Walser wouldn¡¯t be the industrial powerhouse it is without his contributions, so he¡¯s more a unifying figure than you¡¯ll find in parliament at the moment.¡±

    Nationalists, trade unionists, and monarchists all had an interest in appropriating the ¡®cult¡¯ of Henry Snow for themselves. He could be anything they wanted him to be with the right message; a prime example of Walser¡¯s superiority, a worker-orientated genius who evened the playing field, or a man who demonstrated that popular leadership was not needed for progress.

    The Social Democrats were particularly skilled with this school of messaging. They aligned themselves closely with his personal politics and shaped the public perception of him as a consequence. They wanted to rapidly industrialise the rest of the nation and spread economic goodwill to all.

    If only they knew about the downsides, like pollution. That was one aspect that magical industrial processes could claim to excel in. They didn¡¯t need the use of electricity to the same extent, so they had a smaller carbon footprint and could be performed in remote locations with less infrastructure.

    The museum was rather impressive from my uneducated perspective. Dozens of bronze giants dominated the floor space, while many smaller devices and exhibits were stuffed into each wing of the building. It was a wide-open space, with the only truly concealed areas being restricted from visitor access. It was likely that our man would try to sneak through a staff entrance to get a vantage point and gun Clemens down.

    Caius¡¯ eyes focused on the multitude of different pipes that fed into the steam generator on the main floor; ¡°I can¡¯t wrap my head around any of this stuff, not these machines, and not the politics.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, we live in a complicated world. I was wondering ¨C what did you do before you adopted this Caius persona?¡±

    He shrugged, ¡°Nothing that would capture your imagination, I¡¯m afraid. I was holding an honest job at a local manufactory. The pay was good enough to support me and Alice, but then her condition became critical and the bills piled up. I went to my old man and begged him to teach me everything he knew.¡±

    ¡°Caius Senior, I assume?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. He used the name for a long time, and there are a lot of thieves who like to ride his reputation to get jobs. I took the rose calling card from a book I liked and started using it to stake my claim on the identity. He always said that Caius¡¯ name wasn¡¯t worth dirt, but I could tell he cared about preserving its honour.¡±

    ¡°Hm. I think you¡¯re smarter than you care to admit.¡±

    ¡°Book smarts? No way. I don¡¯t have a formal education. I guess I do have a gift for understanding people though.¡±

    ¡°The human mind is more complex than any machine that Henry Snow could build.¡±

    ¡°Sure ¨C but you don¡¯t make half the money for seeing through it.¡±

    A slow trickle of observers was starting to come through the doors. Even though we¡¯d been given some tickets, we were initially under the impression that we would join them in the queue at the front ¨C but we were intercepted by the museum¡¯s curator and told to come inside early. I wrote it off as Clemens meddling again, but Caius seemed to believe that there was an ulterior motive.

    ¡°That curator was very enthused to see us. I don¡¯t like it,¡± he said.

    I doubted that the Curator was one of Marco¡¯s collaborators, not when it was easy to get a ticket to the speech and schmoozing party that came afterwards. Or he could sneak in through the back. The doors weren¡¯t the most secure. In order to find Marco, I had to think like Marco. If I was him ¨C how would I approach this job?

    To be blunt, it looked easy. Not much security, a lot of open space in the building to manoeuvre and get into a good spot, and a target who was about to stand on a stage and give a long, winding speech about something or other. I was starting to silently regret not being there to let Cordia expose herself during the tennis tournament, at least then they¡¯d tighten security around the candidates.

    Hindsight is twenty-twenty. The mark of a good professional is their ability to adapt to shifting circumstances. Marco was likely to stand on this first floor and shoot down at Clemens so I couldn¡¯t leave it to chance. It only took one well-placed bullet to put a man in the grave.

    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re ready to handle this guy? Marco has a fairly fearsome reputation.¡±

    I remained impassive, ¡°I¡¯ve long since learnt that someone¡¯s reputation is easily enhanced for the better. What is it that Marco can do that I cannot?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a hardened killer, for one.¡±

    I did not correct his misconception. I was exactly that.

    ¡°If there¡¯s a high-profile killing of a public figure, he was probably involved in some way. Politicians, nobles, industrialists ¨C there¡¯s a reason he¡¯s the go-to man for any and all of their illegal needs.¡±

    And now Caius was making him sound like the local Supermarket. This man had a bright future in radio if he got in on the ground floor.

    ¡°It¡¯s too late to worry about that now, and no matter his reputation ¨C I will not allow him to bring harm to my Uncle.¡±

    Caius sucked in a deep breath and nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye out for him, but I¡¯m not sure how you plan to take care of him.¡±

    I was going to shoot the bastard.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll handle it.¡±

    Caius peeled away and into one of the museum¡¯s exhibition wings to scout the building for Marco¡¯s location, while I kept my eyes peeled from above. It was a shame that Samantha wasn¡¯t here to give us an extra pair of eyes. It was difficult to watch the staff entrances and the crowd below at the same time.

    What a crowd it was. Even when the Social Democrats tried to appeal to a broad coalition of labourers and middle-class workers, they still played the game with the old nobility. They were the ones who brought in the big money, they were the ones funding the expensive political campaign that they were embarking on to win outright power in the parliament.

    You could always spot a noble from a mile away ¨C buried under piles of frills or head hidden beneath a heavy top hat. They liked eccentric fabric patterns and bright colours that served to demonstrate their affluence. One man was dressed entirely in green and blue plaid like he¡¯d tumbled through a kilt shop and came out the other side.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    My overwatch was disrupted by the arrival of the Curator. He was an ageing man with a big, bushy beard and receding hairline, both stained snow white by the ravages of time.

    ¡°Hello, Lady Walston-Carter.¡±

    ¡°Do you need something?¡± I asked.

    The Curator shook his head, ¡°I was just dropping by to make sure that everything is okay. Wouldn¡¯t it be better to observe from the ground floor with the rest of the audience?¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°No. I¡¯m fine standing here.¡±

    That was enough to push him away from the topic. He must have thought that I was being a moody teenager and acting rebellious. You¡¯d be hard-pressed to find any girl my age chomping at the bit to attend a political rally in the local museum.

    He approached and leaned up against the bannister with me, ¡°This is my favourite spot in the whole museum, actually. You can get a perfect view of the etherscope from here.¡±

    ¡°The etherscope?¡±

    He pointed to the bulbous machine in the middle of the showroom, ¡°That machine there. It¡¯s the most beautiful piece of engineering in this building, in my humble opinion, and also the most interesting. This was constructed during a period when Sir Snow was developing a growing interest in magic.¡±

    ¡°Ah, say no more. My Father has already regaled that story to me three dozen times.¡±

    The etherscope was an odd form even amongst the other experimental machines that filled the museum. It was bulbous and round, with dozens of pipes spewing forth from every available orifice. A heavy airlock allowed entry into the main chamber, while a large control panel carved from wood and steel was placed clumsily at the front. I had to wonder how they hauled such a heavy lump of metal into this room.

    The Curator chuckled, ¡°It was one of his finest if most impractical creations. He claimed that it was capable of allowing one to speak with the Goddess herself by amplifying a person¡¯s magical perception. You can perform incredibly powerful spells within its confines.¡±

    ¡°Does it work?¡±

    ¡°It does, though nobody has tried using it in decades, and none of those who tested it claimed to have heard the Goddess¡¯ voice. At the time it was popularly theorized that Sir Snow was becoming infirm in both body and mind, in truth, he was as sharp as ever. It was eight years later that he passed away, after all.¡±

    ¡°Nobody can appreciate a genius in their time.¡±

    He smiled, ¡°Sir Snow faced many adversities early in his career from those who sought to pile scepticism upon his work. Even when he was established as one of the brightest minds of our age, he continued to endure the same treatment from a select few in the political and scientific establishment.¡±

    I was very eager to see the back of the Curator. He was getting in the way of my job.

    ¡°Oh, and while I¡¯m here ¨C I have something for you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    He reached into his pocket and handed me a sealed letter. The yellowed paper made it clear that both the envelope and the contents within were extremely old. I flipped it over and looked at who it was addressed to. According to the envelope ¨C this was sent by Henry Snow to me.

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    The Curator gave me a pained frown, ¡°Sir Snow was known for his many eccentricities, but one of the most curious things he did was leave behind dozens and dozens of letters addressed to different people, all with extremely specific instructions on when and where to deliver them.¡±

    I turned to face him with an open mouth, ¡°You¡¯re telling me that a man who died before I was born sent me a letter?¡±

    ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve seen the opportunity to hand one over,¡± he admitted, ¡°My predecessor stressed that it was his duty to personally ensure that every single one found its intended destination. And his predecessor was a personal friend of Sir Snow, he instilled the importance of doing so in him when he opened this museum. In fact ¨C the museum was also something requested by Sir Snow himself.¡±

    Three generations of curators all following the request of a long-dead inventor. There was no mistaking my name on the back side, but how could I be certain that this was the real deal?

    ¡°Oh, and the red mark on the top corner means I should make myself disappear before you open it. Good day, Lady Walston-Carter.¡±

    He bowed and hustled away from my position. The curiosity was too much for me to resist. I pulled the wax seal away from the lip of the envelope and opened it. The smell of aged paper flooded outwards. I jostled the letter free and folded the envelope into my pocket for later. I spoke out the words under my breath.

    ¡°Dear Lady Walston-Carter, I have composed many of these letters over the past year, and I must admit that yours has been the most difficult for me to approach. Your matter is the most pressing of all. The voice was economical with details, but she assured me that you had a key role to play in protecting the future of not just Walser ¨C but the world as a whole.¡±

    Okay, that was odd. He knew something, not just my name and location ¨C but the very nature of my arrival in Walser and the world of Love Revolution.

    ¡°She provided me with a cryptic statement to verify this letter¡¯s authenticity. A girl of thirteen years who has yet only lived two. Fear not for your future as it is in safe hands. Your will and action will deliver salvation to many and penance for your past misdeeds.¡±

    This was the real thing. Henry Snow, of all people, knew who I was. It was a shame he was dead too quick to do anything with that knowledge. A voice telling him to leave letters, one of which was addressed to me, containing information that only one being could possess.

    He¡¯d been in contact with the Goddess.

    ¡®Goddess¡¯ in this context being the non-visible entity who brought me to this world. Given that she was now dispensing a letter to me through a mortal proxy, it begged to reason that she possessed some level of omnipotence. Perhaps the reason she selected me was because she could see the future that would come about as a result.

    This was the last thing I expected to find when I came to the museum.

    ¡°By the next weekend, bring your destined partner to the etherscope and speak with the Curator. He will know what to do next.¡±

    A quick aside from Henry was included.

    ¡°PS. I had to build that damnable thing because of you ¨C so you better get some good use out of it!¡±

    Charming.

    That was essentially the end of the letter for my purposes. Henry signed off with a quick word of thanks to me for ¡®the hard work.¡¯ Whether he knew that the hard work in question was killing a lot of people was left unsaid. I folded the letter back into the envelope and considered what was happening.

    What an odd turn of events. If this Goddess was powerful enough to see the future, to summon the dead to another world, and to plan this elaborate scheme to send a single letter, why did she need to go to this much effort to communicate with me? They wanted me and Samantha (who I assumed was the destined partner) to utilise the etherscope for an unspoken purpose.

    My best guess was that the etherscope would bring about more answers to my questions. If it was capable of amplifying magical power within a localised area then it must have been the way that Henry received his instructions in the first place. He did claim to have heard the voice of the Goddess using it, a claim that none would entertain given the absurdity of it.

    I was long past worrying about what was absurd or not.

    I wanted to have a nice, friendly chat with the Goddess responsible for bringing me here. She had a lot to answer for. I was sceptical of the suggestion that I¡¯d get to speak with her via the etherscope, but there was little harm in trying as the letter suggested.

    If she was trying to speak with me, then that came as a surprise. She never demonstrated an interest in directing me before, or even handing me simple explanations about my reason for being there. I was mistaking a practical reason for one more spiteful. I wasn¡¯t a toy brought here for the thrill of it, only to be discarded once she got her kicks. She needed me for something.

    I refocused on the task at hand. I could worry about that closer to the date given in the letter. Right now, Marco was trying to kill my Uncle and help the monarchists sow some chaos amongst his party. I wasn¡¯t going to let that happen.

    But as far as I could tell ¨C there was no sign of him. Caius gave me a detailed physical description of the guy before we arrived at the museum. He had tanned skin, a black moustache, and a scar on his left cheek. It would be hard to miss him with such distinct features.

    If he was planning on using the balcony to launch his attack, my presence would ward him away. He¡¯d want to keep the number of witnesses to an absolute minimum and avoid any chance that Clemens¡¯ speech could be cancelled. I caught a glimpse of Caius moving between the rooms on the opposite side of me. He hadn¡¯t found anything either.

    But a flash of a dark figure from behind the staff door certainly increased my heart rate by a few points. I pressed my index finger against the cold metal of the gun in my pocket and kept an eye on it. The man on the other side could see us moving through the frosted glass, a pair of coloured blobs that told him that there were witnesses present on the balcony.

    He took the dive and unlocked the door, shutting it behind him in the meekest manner he could manage. Given his medium-length black hair and easily identifiable moustache dominating his top lip, it was obvious that this was the man we were waiting for.

    To give him credit, he¡¯d gone to the effort of even obtaining some coveralls and a mop to give the impression that he was here as some sort of custodial staff. What was less convincing was the hard shape resting against his hip, which was exposed whenever he tensed his back. That was a gun alright.

    In my mind, there were several different outcomes to this meeting. Either he¡¯d hover around and wait for us to get bored and leave, or he¡¯d try to take a more proactive approach to making us move by using his fake staff credentials. Caius was already hiding behind something, so I was the only person on the balcony that he could see.

    The latter plan was what he wanted to go with, but for whatever reason that is not what happened. He marched in my direction, got one good look at my face, stopped with an expression of what could only be described as ¡®pants-pissing fear,¡¯ and turned on his heel to get the hell out of there so fast that my head spun.

    What the hell was going on?

    I wasn¡¯t going to let him get away that easily. He clearly had a reason to be scared of me, and I wanted to nip this in the bud. I took off in pursuit, through the staff door and down a long corridor filled with offices. I was already tired of chasing these damn people down after they screwed up.

    Or that would be the case if Caius didn¡¯t swing out from around the corner and absolutely pancake the guy with a clothesline. Marco flew head over heels as his own momentum clocked him with a strong blow to the neck. It wasn¡¯t enough to knock him out, but his attempts to draw his gun and fire at Caius failed miserably as he used his magic to flashbang his eyes.

    By the time his vision cleared again, I was already behind him with my own gun pointed at his back.

    ¡°Drop it, Marco.¡±

    Sensing that his goose was thoroughly cooked, he did as I asked and placed it on the ground.

    ¡°Of all people, why did I have to run into you?¡± he lamented.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve ever met.¡±

    He shook his head, ¡°No ¨C I recognise those eyes of yours, that black hair. We¡¯ve met before. You¡¯re the girl they told me to stay away from.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°My friends in the business. I¡¯m not giving you names.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about names. I¡¯ve never seen you before, yet here you are ¨C trying to murder my Uncle.¡±

    ¡°Uncle?¡±

    He tilted his head in my direction and took a closer look at me. The punchline was here.

    ¡°Tch. You aren¡¯t her, are you?¡±

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± I repeated, ¡°Is that why you decided to turn tail and run down here once you saw me?¡±

    He refused to answer that question. Caius stepped back and out of range of any danger, ¡°Easy. Got our man, nothing to worry about.¡±

    ¡°You really think that I¡¯m the only one here? Cordia warned me about you two ¨C said that you¡¯d find a way to meddle in our business.¡±

    ¡°Cordia¡¯s dead,¡± I snapped.

    Another voice joined the debate; ¡°Well, that would be news to me.¡±

    I moved on instinct. I leapt through the door as a trio of gunshots chased me. A small desk for one of the workers was my only protection. Caius made himself sparse by running back the way he came, while Marco grabbed his gun and posted himself near the entrance to pin me down with his friend.

    That voice ¨C it was Cordia¡¯s.

    I couldn¡¯t see her from my hiding spot, but it was definitely her.

    ¡°I watched you smash your head against the pavement, how the hell did you survive?¡± I hollered.

    ¡°What is this girl talking about?¡± Marco complained, ¡°She¡¯s making no sense!¡±

    ¡°Leave her to me and get Clemens before they evacuate the building, you dullard!¡±

    Cordia had taken a chance on shooting me in the back but fluffed it. They would have heard those bangs from downstairs for certain, and they¡¯d be working fast to evacuate everyone from the building. Even so, Clemens was in immediate danger with these two around. There was no time to worry about how Cordia survived now. I had to get rid of them before they could reach him.

    ¡°Once I kill you that traitor and his parasite sister are next!¡± Cordia yelled.

    If she wanted to die twice so badly, then I was happy to oblige.

 Chapter 71

    Cordia was not the only ghost haunting the halls of the museum, as Marco could testify. It had been a long time since he¡¯d seen that face and those eyes, but he would never be able to forget them so long as he lived. But this was not the same person he knew. She was far too young for that. Still, she bore all the same menace, freezing the blood in his veins and wielding a weapon in an alike manner.

    This must have been the girl who Cordia warned him about.

    She did describe her as young, based on the sound of her voice, but how young she really was stretched his credulity to the limits. She was no older than thirteen years old and on the smaller side at that. She was a perfectly presented noble girl, from her dress to the tone of her voice, yet she wielded that weapon with killing intent. Marco saw a reflection of himself in the way she behaved.

    There was no time to hesitate now. Cordia¡¯s actions had already sent loud noises through into the main hall where Clemens was due to speak. He burst through the employee door and hurried to the top of the steps. None of the people who were at the museum for the speech had fled, such was the short window between the first gunshots and his arrival back in the main antechamber, though there was a loud commotion from them as they pondered the source of the noise.

    And there he was. Clemens Walston-Carter was standing behind the curtain with two of his colleagues in close proximity. Marco drew his gun and aimed carefully at his target. It wasn¡¯t clean like he wanted, but Cordia did bail him out by stopping the girl from executing him. He tensed his trigger finger and steadied his arm.

    At the very last second ¨C an unseen figure dived into his ribs from the side. The gun fired, with the bullet straying off course and shattering a nearby window. The air was robbed from his lungs as the full brunt of an adult man bore down on his ribcage. Meddling hands reached out and grappled with him in an attempt to steal the gun from his possession.

    The crowd screamed and stampeded for the main exit, with little regard for the safety of the other attendees. Marco couldn¡¯t see Clemens and his entourage from the floor, but his attacker was extremely persistent in wrestling him down and keeping him from giving chase.

    ¡°Bastard!¡± he growled. He kicked and clawed at the stranger, eventually getting the upper hand and forcing his head into the floor. It was the same man who¡¯d clobbered him in the corridor. He had run along the entire length of the building¡¯s first floor for the sole purpose of blindsiding him and alerting the target.

    He aimed his gun at the man, but he took the opportunity to reach out and take his wrists in a tight hold. Their arms pointed to the ceiling as they both staggered back to the stone bannister behind, three more shots being released into the ceiling as they both struggled to gain control of the gun.

    Marco had to reassess his situation. This man was fast, strong, and knew how to fight someone holding a firearm. He must have been working with the girl, and she wouldn¡¯t bring a civilian along who couldn¡¯t hang in a fight.

    ¡°Let go, friend ¨C and I won¡¯t kill you.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re far past that point, ¡®friend.¡¯ You¡¯re one of Cordia¡¯s scumbags, and I¡¯m not letting you get away after what you pulled at the sanatorium.¡±

    Marco had nothing to do with that operation, but he was working on behalf of Cordia this time, so it was an easy mistake to make. There was no point litigating the specifics of his contract with a stranger who was holding a grudge, he just needed to get him out of the way before Clemens could escape.

    ¡°Get out of my way!¡±

    Marco used all of his strength, tucking himself beneath his arm and hoisting him up and off of his feet. Caius gasped as his centre of gravity flipped over, his arms reached out and grabbed for whatever leverage they could find, in this case ¨C the bannister which they were fighting against. He grunted when his stomach hit the wall on the way over. He now found himself hanging from the first floor while Marco tried to get his bearings.

    This would have been a problematic position for anyone else, but Caius was agile like a cat. He¡¯d climbed his fair share of manor facades during his career as a thief. Marco didn¡¯t see him coming until he felt one of his arms wrap around his neck and pull him back against the stone rail.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m here to get in your way no matter what.¡±

    Marco tried to fight him off with a series of savage back elbows, but Caius kept his head out of the way and avoided them. Marco could feel his footing start to slip with Caius pulling back on him. He was a moment away from falling over the railing and landing on the marble floor below.

    Broken bones, not ideal.

    He scrambled for grip on the back of Caius¡¯ head, before heaving him up and over the bannister once more and forcing him down. Caius slid for three meters before coming to a stop, but he didn¡¯t stop moving. He swivelled around onto his back and snapped his fingers, sending another blinding flash into the air and preventing Marco from firing. Marco hated dealing with mages, and this guy was sharper than most.

    Every second that he wasted was another second in which Clemens was allowed to get further away from the museum. Every second wasted was another second in which the police would get the chance to respond to the gunfire at deploy officers to apprehend him. Every second wasted was another second in which Marco wasn¡¯t getting paid for his honest, hard work.

    But how could he get the upper hand against someone who was experienced in disarming their opponents? He had more magic tricks waiting up his sleeve to unleash at the opportune time, and if he lost hold of the gun, his chances of killing Clemens would plummet to nil. Instinct would tell him to move away and hide, but keeping close and frustrating his attempts to fire his weapon was the safer strategy, given his skills.

    Hopefully, Cordia would finish up with the girl and even the odds.

    <hr>

    Cordia was not trying to preserve her ammunition. I never got the chance to see how she operated while working one of her jobs, and I was under the mistaken impression that her role as a maid would translate into a precise and carefully considered style of work.

    Given the sorry state of the room I¡¯d leapt into to avoid her first salvo, that was evidently not the case.

    I second-guessed my conclusion that Cordia was somehow alive, but seeing her up close dashed any doubts in my mind that she was the genuine article. It was the same woman who just a few days ago tumbled from the roof of an urban building and smashed her skull to pieces on the concrete below. I was not mistaken when I checked her body and declared her dead, not unless they somehow managed to restart her heart and bring her back from the afterlife.

    But there was no arguing with the reality now. Cordia was alive, and trying to shoot me dead in the back offices of the local museum.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you did to unsettle Marco like that, but I¡¯m not going to let you interfere again.¡±

    I had no idea what she was talking about. Cordia looked genuinely terrified when she saw me at the tennis tournament. Now she was acting like I was no big deal, or that she didn¡¯t know who I was. It didn¡¯t make sense.

    ¡°Big words from a small-minded woman.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be Clemens¡¯ own niece! Does your Daddy know what you¡¯ve been up to behind his back? Maybe I should tell him and get you grounded.¡±

    ¡°Now why would he do that to his perfect little angel?¡± I taunted.

    ¡°You were the one who burnt Thersyn¡¯s house down, weren¡¯t you? It was no accident that the first responders found his little... hobby down in the basement.¡±

    ¡°You make it sound like you knew from the start, Cordia.¡±

    ¡°Of course I did. I know everything there is to know about every member of the plan. We wouldn¡¯t invite them to be a part if we couldn¡¯t hold them ransom with embarrassing information. Thersyn¡¯s Scuncath leanings are an open secret amongst his associates.¡±

    ¡°Not so secret anymore,¡± I chuckled.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to thank you for making our lives more difficult.¡±

    She punctuated her threat with two gunshots, which struck nothing but the bookshelf at the back of the room. I took the opportunity and leapt up onto the desk in front of me, diving through the air and forcing her back with my own fire. I rolled down into a crouching stance and kept myself out of sight. Cordia was blocking my only exit. She only needed to delay me and let Marco handle the dirty work.

    I hoped to the Goddess that Caius hadn¡¯t made a run for it yet. I could use his help to distract Marco until Clemens could get away.

    ¡°Are you sure that attacking me was the wise decision? I¡¯m certain that Clemens and his colleagues have already fled the building thanks to your impatient trigger finger.¡±

    Cordia laughed bitterly, ¡°Do you honestly believe that this event was our only window of opportunity? Ridding ourselves of a pest like you must always take priority.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that you think so highly of me!¡±

    We both turned out of cover at the same time. Cordia was aiming in the wrong direction, having lost track of my position behind the cover I was using. She readjusted her aim but panicked when I shot first. She ducked back behind the wall, with me trying to hit her through it using the last rounds in my magazine. I dropped the empty mag onto the floor and replaced it with my second. I couldn¡¯t afford to waste any more of these bullets.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    I pressed the advantage and moved quickly to reach the door. I peered around the corner and found Cordia notable for her absence. Judging from the position of one of the bullet holes, and a splatter of blood that had landed on the floor, a stray shot must have hit her somewhere non-vital.

    ¡°Cordia, come out and play!¡±

    I was just amusing myself at this point, trying to take the edge off.

    I couldn¡¯t tell her direction of travel based on the blood stain. The wound was not actively bleeding enough. If it was heavier, I might have been able to use that information and find her. I stopped and considered my options. It was better for me to find and help Caius with Marco rather than go on a wild goose chase.

    I kept my gun aloft and headed back towards the main hall. The staff were steering well clear of where the noise was coming from, which was the right thing to do. I burst through the door to see Caius grappling with Marco by the stairs. What a beautiful son of a bitch he was.

    ¡°Caius, duck!¡±

    Caius looked like a deer in the headlights, but he did what I asked and got the hell out of the way. There was no time to fine-tune my aim. I pulled the trigger and hoped the guiding hand of whatever God was screwing with me led it to the right place. Marco cried out in pain as it struck him in the side, sending him flying back through the air and down the first flight of steps with a painful series of thuds.

    I rushed over to see if that finished the job, but Marco was one step ahead of me this time. His jumpsuit had been torn open, revealing some kind of armoured vest hidden beneath. I had never seen anything this modern in my years of inhabiting this world. It looked like Kevlar, but I knew that such an innovation was not yet widespread, or available to contract killers.

    Either way ¨C it was enough to stop my bullet from rupturing his internal organs. He returned fire and forced me back into cover. Marco wasn¡¯t done yet. He clutched his bruised ribs and hobbled down to the ground floor, using the stone railing as support.

    ¡°Where did he get that body armour?¡± I complained. That was just unfair.

    ¡°He¡¯s some kind of monster for surviving that!¡± Caius commented. He didn¡¯t understand what I was talking about. It was not going to end well if I tried to rush down the stairs with Marco still training his gun on me from below. If I crested myself against them, he¡¯d have an easy shot.

    ¡°What happened to Cordia?¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°Disappeared. I hit her, so she¡¯s injured.¡±

    ¡°Where did she even come from? We both saw the same thing! She was dead!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, and she¡¯s not going to tell us if we ask!¡±

    Caius followed me down the stairs now that Marco was out of sight. He was running towards the back of the building to try and find Clemens. I didn¡¯t know what he was doing, but Cordia wouldn¡¯t launch this kind of attack unless she knew what their plans were. On the bright side, one of the party officials being involved in an incident like this would put them on high alert for any future attempts.

    ¡°I¡¯m not happy about this!¡±

    ¡°Then put your bloody mask on.¡±

    In fact, that was a good idea. The last thing I needed was for Clemens or other civilians to see my face right now. It was a pain in the ass to grab the cloth from inside my coat and slip it on over my face while still trying to pay attention to where we were running. Marco¡¯s injury slowed him down enough that we caught a glimpse of him escaping through the rear exit.

    ¡°There he is!¡± Caius yelled.

    There was already a crowd of onlookers gathering on the street beyond. The only information they had was the sound of gunfire and the sudden evacuation of the building. Marco was forced to hide his gun again, as was I. We forced our way through the throng and pursued him down the road. I was losing sight of where Clemens and the other speakers had escaped.

    Perhaps the masks were a bad idea in terms of making us less suspect.

    It was too late for recriminations now. One of the men hovering on the street corner ahead of us struck me as familiar. He was with Clemens when they walked through the doors and approached the stage. Marco knew that too. He made a direct move to intercept him.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way he tries that out here in public,¡± Caius grunted.

    ¡°Never underestimate others'' stupidity.¡±

    He was going to stake his reputation of completing this job, I could tell from the desperate look in his eyes while he was tussling with Caius. He barrelled through a group of people as they watched the commotion, knocking two of them into the gutter and earned no end of scorn for doing so. I leapt over one of the prone victims and tackled him from behind. The strength left his legs and he collapsed without my assistance, though that had the knock-on effect of causing me to trip over him and fall onto the pavement in front of him.

    I groaned in agony as a lash of thunder ran up my arm. That didn¡¯t feel good. That was what happened when you screwed up your landing and fractured a bone or two in the process. This was my worst injury yet and he wasn¡¯t even doing it on purpose! Our fight was attracting a lot of unwanted attention, including from the men who were guarding the VIP assembly area.

    Caius grabbed him by the scruff of his overalls and dragged him back to his feet, while I rushed in from the other side and grabbed the arm which was holding the gun. The guards noticed and called it out to their comrades. They hurried away, presumably to usher Clemens and the others from danger. One of the men stayed behind and tried to join the fray, but Marco kicked him away using his free leg.

    Despite being trapped in a sandwich, Marco was not going to give up so easily. He tried to toss me away by shifting his centre of gravity, before pushing Caius back into the brick wall of the nearest building and pummelling his stomach with painful elbows.

    I grabbed his wrist and forced his gun hand into the wall again and again until finally, the shock caused him to drop it to the floor. I leaned back as he tried to headbutt me and escape, but that did afford him the leeway he needed to finally push free from Caius¡¯ hold. I kicked the gun away before he could take it again.

    But then Cordia showed up to crash the party. Two gunshots were fired into the air. The bystanders watching our fight scattered in every direction. The chaos was so loud and overwhelming that it took me several seconds to locate her, on the other side of the road, still clutching her bloody side.

    ¡°Bugger me!¡± Caius grunted. I concurred. This was a bad spot to be left standing when she had the gun. The guard pulled his own weapon and tried to stop her, but his brain matter ended up splattered across the stones below as Cordia blew his head off with a well-placed shot.

    ¡°Crazy broad!¡± I seethed. Subtlety was out of the window now, ¡°Push him into me!¡±

    Caius did as I asked and released Marco from his grip, forcing him forward with a powerful shove to the back. Marco lifted his arms up to his face to prevent me from striking him, but that was not my intention. I swivelled around his left side and hopped up, wrapping one of my arms around his neck and pulling him down so that his centre of balance was tipped in my direction. He now found himself in an unenviable position of being my human shield.

    Cordia frowned and turned her gun away from us. Marco wasn¡¯t expendable enough to shoot through. That expression did not last long, as it was soon replaced with a cocky grin. I didn¡¯t know why she was so pleased with herself until another, unseen gunshot echoed across the city block.

    She wasn¡¯t the only one here with Marco.

    My heart skipped a beat. I hoped that it wasn¡¯t the sound of my Uncle getting his early due. Cordia had us in a bind and she knew it. We couldn¡¯t move without letting her shoot us, but one of her associates was already trying to kill their target. Letting Marco go would make our odds worse too.

    ¡°Grab my gun.¡±

    Caius hustled over behind me, rummaged through my jacket pocket and handed me the weapon. It was hard with Marco struggling the entire time but we managed. Those struggles came to a sudden halt once I pressed the barrel against his head for the second time.

    ¡°How many people did you bring?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not telling you,¡± Marco replied. I rewarded his loyalty by smacking him in the head with the butt of my gun and sending his eyes spinning in two different directions. We¡¯d have to find out for ourselves.

    Cordia was enjoying the bind we were in, ¡°Do you really have time to stand here and ask him questions, you meddlesome insect?¡±

    ¡°No. That¡¯s why we¡¯re leaving.¡±

    Caius grabbed the back of my collar and escorted me down the alleyway towards the sight of the ongoing fight. Cordia was forced to follow us, keeping a close eye on her angle of attack. She wanted desperately to shoot one of us down while the chance was available. Neither of us was going to give her a clear shot, not with Marco still in my hold.

    The noise was coming from the street across the block. Clemens and his guards were hiding behind an abandoned carriage which had gotten overturned at some point during the chaos. That wooden construction wasn¡¯t going to protect them from the three figures approaching, all wearing coveralls that matched Marco¡¯s.

    ¡°I really wish you¡¯d taken that gun,¡± I grumbled.

    Caius shook his head, ¡°I¡¯m no good with them!¡±

    He had a point there, I couldn¡¯t rely on him to win a fight versus three other people even if he did have one. The guards with Clemens weren¡¯t prepared for this sort of armed attack. They were cowering with him behind the axels.

    ¡°Do something!¡±

    ¡°I am!¡±

    Caius summoned all of his magical energy and charged at the men. With a snap of his fingers, all three were set alight ¨C their overalls serving as perfect kindling for his magical trickery. The effect was immediate, with each one attempting to douse the flames using their hands, and failing that, trying to remove the overalls before they were burnt by the heat.

    My arm jolted with each shot, but Marco¡¯s interference prevented me from landing finish blows on all of them. One man was hit three times, but the other two managed to slip away and force their way into an open door. Now occupying the building across the street, they fired back through the windows and threatened to hit Marco.

    Cordia¡¯s smug face didn¡¯t last for long. One of the guards peered around the corner to get a clear view of what was going on. There was no understanding to be gleaned from this. Two groups of strangers were fighting seemingly over nothing.

    Marco seized up, ¡°She killed them? She killed them!¡±

    I turned my aim back onto Cordia, who quickly realised that she didn¡¯t have a piece of leverage left to hold me back from killing her too. She ducked around the corner as I fired several more rounds in her direction. Matters had spiralled out of her control. The only thing to be thankful for was that the police hadn¡¯t arrived yet to make matters even worse.

    Cordia had a hard choice to make. She was bleeding badly from the wound I¡¯d given her earlier, and it was affecting her ability to fight and direct her men. Every second that ticked by sapped a little more of her strength and handed us a bigger advantage. Marco and the other two were going to try and follow through with the plan no matter the outcome. She didn¡¯t need to be here.

    So, Lady Cordia bravely ran away. I caught a glimpse of her heel twisting and then heard the sound of her boots slamming into the pavement.

    That outraged Marco so much that he finally managed to wrestle himself free of my chokehold, slamming back into my head and forcing me away. Caius wasn¡¯t in a position to grab at him again, nor did he want to be in one given the overlook offered by his two criminal friends in the house. Even more gunshots were exchanged with no realistic prospect of them hitting anything.

    The problem for me was more apparent. I only had a handful of bullets left in my magazine and no spares. Moving to grab the dead man¡¯s gun now would be suicide, and I didn¡¯t have the firepower or ammunition to suppress them. Marco staggered away while we were frozen into position.

    Several moments of tense silence passed without any movement from our side. I peeked out from my hiding place towards the house, but it was evident that both surviving gunmen decided to cut their losses and follow Marco out of our line of sight.

    ¡°They got away,¡± I groaned.

    Caius took a contrary view, ¡°Thank goodness. I thought we were going to die there!¡±

    ¡°Time to make ourselves disappear too. The police will show up soon.¡±

    Caius led me away from the scene before Clemens¡¯ guards could pull us aside and speak with us. We¡¯d already risked a lot by coming out here. I¡¯d need to change my clothes and come up with a good alibi as to why I wasn¡¯t tangled up in the mess happening at the museum. Caius knew all of the best escape routes in the city, so getting away from prying eyes and removing the masks was a simple matter.

    I exhaled, happy to finally be free of the stuffy garment.

    There was a lot for us to consider, about the way we were approaching the assassination plot, and about how to best move forward and dismantle it. The response to this incident would be more pronounced than the others. A member of the leading party was almost killed by a gang of infiltrators.

    Caius was staring at me, ¡°You don¡¯t seem very... shaken by killing that man.¡±

    ¡°Why would I be?¡± I commented dismissively.

    Caius didn¡¯t have a snide response to that. It was a piece of brutal honesty from a girl he believed to be nothing but talk and fancy parties.

    ¡°If he didn¡¯t want to die, he should have stayed out of my way.¡±

    Caius shivered. He was almost standing in his position a few weeks ago. Was it luck or mercy that he was on my side, and for how long could he rely on that being the case?

    ¡°Noted.¡±

 Chapter 72

    It was with a heavy heart that Cordia¡¯s name was returned to our notice board as a living conspirator. The more I sat and stewed on it, the less it made sense. I saw what I saw back then. It was unmistakably her - and that fall was fatal. There was no other explanation.

    It had to be connected to Adrian¡¯s watch. They dedicated so much time to stealing it, she was carrying it when she died, and Caius revealed that the magical energy he felt originally was lessened through use. I plumbed the depths of my visual novel knowledge and settled on two different theories.

    One, the watch allowed her to come back to life an indeterminate time after she passed away. This posed some more questions. The police were already investigating the scene when we left. Did they witness her sit up and gasp, her injuries magically reverted?

    The second theory was more sound. It was a watch, a watch that contained immense magical power, what else could it do but send Cordia back in time? That would explain the different reactions I saw from our first and second meetings. The first time we saw each other in the flesh at the tournament, she was scared of me and seemed to know who I was.

    The second in the museum was different. She was no longer fearful of me and was surprised by my appearance. Unless the fall caused short-term amnesia, the easiest explanation was that those events were out of order. The Cordia I met at the tennis tournament was from the future.

    With this in mind ¨C I reached a conclusion.

    No matter what we did we couldn¡¯t actually kill Cordia. Her presence at the tournament, with the watch in her possession, was evidence that our attempts at killing her would inevitably fail. She needed to survive to use the watch, travel back in time, die by falling from the roof, and then have the watch returned to Adrian to close the loop.

    If the watch were capable of creating splintered timelines, then it was beyond both my comprehension and ability to manipulate. However, there was no evidence to support that view of things.

    I recalled the etching engraved onto the watch. Technically it was not possible to change the past into something more favourable. That was what it was trying to warn the user about in a roundabout way. Events were set in stone and you could only reach the same present by using its time manipulation magic.

    As I spoke, there was one living Cordia from the present, one dead Cordia from the future, and two different watches. The original watch was still in present Cordia¡¯s possession as part of her plan, while the future watch was already returned to Adrian ¨C who would not be able to tell them apart. Present Cordia would eventually be foiled somehow, and use the watch to go back and try again.

    All in all, a good vote of confidence for our plans to stop them from killing the Social Democratic Party en masse, and also the kind of idiotic nonsense I expected to find in a world based on a visual novel.

    Tomorrow I¡¯d be making an early trip back to the academy. I¡¯d regroup with Caius and Samantha on the weekend and try to come up with our next moves. It was looking increasingly likely that we would have to go on the offensive and kill off some of the monarchists identified from the letters. Just another red line for me to go skipping over without a care in the world.

    Not as if any of the other killings I was guilty of were spontaneous.

    The next day, Samantha was already waiting for me when I entered the dorms.

    ¡°Did it go well?¡±

    I sighed, ¡°Not exactly. My Uncle is fine, but the people responsible got away.¡±

    Samantha wanted to say that it was for the best that fewer people were harmed, but she restrained herself. I wasn¡¯t going to be receptive to that kind of argument when my family was in danger because of them. She followed me into my room and watched me unpack.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it annoying moving back and forth like this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve performed more tedious tasks than this before, many times over. An hour¡¯s journey home is nothing in comparison.¡±

    Nobody understood the true meaning of tedious unless they¡¯d spent days and days staking out a spot, following a target, or just waiting around for the opportunity to present itself. Bad assassins were impatient people. Cordia and Marco were lucky that the police did not yet possess the full repertoire of modern crime-fighting techniques that I was familiar with because the chaos they caused at the museum would have been a death sentence otherwise.

    I stressed the importance of concealing our identity to Caius before we departed for the museum. As a man who made a career from a distinct identity, it was a type of thinking that he was not too familiar with, but he understood well enough when I told him about the consequences of being the subject of a murder manhunt.

    ¡°I have to say, I¡¯m surprised by the extent of their willingness to put themselves in harm¡¯s way. They did not merely try to assassinate my Uncle within the building, they chased him out onto the streets and engaged us in a gunfight before retreating.¡±

    ¡°Was everyone okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Cordia killed one of the guards before we could do anything.¡±

    I sat on the edge of my bed and gave her a weary look.

    ¡°Maybe we should just submit what we found to the police and let them handle it,¡± she suggested, ¡°You don¡¯t seem too happy about all of this.¡±

    ¡°They will not act on whatever we submit, and an anonymous submission of stolen evidence will mean it cannot be utilised in court, should matters even progress that far.¡±

    Walser¡¯s police relied heavily on a chain of custody to determine the authenticity of evidence used in its cases. Seeing is believing, after all. I couldn¡¯t decry them for sticking with what worked when so few alternatives were available to them.

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen the list. They¡¯re rich and influential. Even if they were caught in broad daylight killing another ¨C it would still be down to chance as to whether they find themselves in prison or not.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re exaggerating.¡±

    ¡°No, I am not. The gross inequality of Walser is far beyond what most people assume. The evidence will go missing. Witnesses will change their stories. Officers will make ¡®mistakes¡¯ that compromise the case. All of these coincidences will allow the trial to fall apart naturally, with no outward evidence of foul play.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re being pessimistic again. You always do this.¡±

    ¡°Current events aren¡¯t giving me much to be optimistic about. I¡¯m merely being realistic about the chances of our letter haul resulting in prosecution. If Thersyn were not a Scuncath, I do wonder if they would have even brought him to trial for the murder he committed.¡±

    Samantha shook her head in disagreement but did not pursue the argument further, which was probably the wise choice given how stubborn I could be. I was basing my opinions on what I¡¯d seen during my years living as Maria ¨C whilst she endeavoured to believe in the free and fair values upon which this new Republic was founded.

    ¡°I¡¯m worried that this is stealing all of your attention, Maria. You do have to keep up with studying for our exams, and pick out your elective subjects.¡±

    I scoffed, ¡°You already know that I¡¯m only good for destroying things. I¡¯m only here because my Father decided it would be good for the family business.¡±

    Samantha took a different perspective, ¡°What about your other talents, your intelligence? Are you saying that you can¡¯t do good things, or have you simply given up without even trying first?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. You¡¯re only thirteen. You¡¯ve got a long, long time to find what you want to do. Why are you giving up already? Who decided that you¡¯re only good for hurting folks? The only person saying these things is you!¡±

    ¡°I wanted to try, I did try,¡± I replied, ¡°I came to the academy and tried to keep my head down, but I didn¡¯t get a choice. Before I knew it ¨C I was dragged against my will right back into trouble. It¡¯s attracted to me. The last thing I want is for anyone else to become involved. I only told you the truth because you persisted.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me the whole truth.¡±

    ¡°The whole truth isn¡¯t going to change matters. You already know the darkest secret I hold, why would you bother listening beyond the fact that I¡¯d killed two dozen people?¡±

    Samantha was tired of this discussion, ¡°When we first met for real, I thought that you were just a cold person. Now I realise that you worry too much about anything and everything.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll stop worrying when my reasons for worrying are no more. I don¡¯t enjoy being guarded.¡±

    We were interrupted by someone knocking on my door.

    Max was here, ¡°You two sound like you¡¯re having a big argument in there. Is this a bad time?¡±

    ¡°No. We were finishing up.¡±

    Max opened the door and peered inside with a frown, ¡°It¡¯s rare to hear Samantha raising her voice like that. I hope Maria hasn¡¯t offended you too much.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°I object to that characterisation.¡±

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Sam chuckled, ¡°No. We were simply having a spirited debate about recent events.¡±

    Max averted his eyes as I withdrew some nightwear from my trunk and moved to put it back into the cabinet, ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I like hearing Maria having a ¡®spirited¡¯ discussion, personally. It feels wrong.¡±

    ¡°Have you made any progress on choosing your electives, Max?¡±

    He moped, ¡°No, and I think that Claude is going to go crazy if he doesn¡¯t settle on his choices soon. He usually only gets this hung up on choosing between which detective novel to read next.¡±

    ¡°At least he¡¯s taking it seriously.¡±

    Claude was not awake yet, usually being the last to rise from the boy¡¯s side of the dorm. Technically we weren¡¯t supposed to intermingle with the opposite sex, but rules without enforcement weren¡¯t really rules. The prefects and dorm managers came by so rarely that it was a non-issue for most students.

    I slammed my suitcase shut and turned to the duo, ¡°That¡¯s all well and good ¨C but is my room really the most appropriate meeting place?¡±

    They both looked sheepish and bowed in apology.

    ¡°I¡¯ll speak with you again later, Maria.¡±

    Samantha grabbed Max by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out of the room to continue the discussion elsewhere. Once I was sure that they were gone, I locked the door and transferred some extra magazines from my secret compartment to the other case. I was always cutting it close with ammunition lately, so I was going to correct that mistake by bringing more bullets with me.

    I took a moment to close my eyes and replay my argument with Samantha. It frustrated me that she did not understand my perspective. I would have loved to kick back and sail through some easy-going school days, but clearly, fate had other plans for me, and for her.

    I¡¯d completely forgotten to tell her about our ¡®appointment¡¯ at the Henry Snow Museum.

    Was the place even going to be open within a week? The police were going to be sniffing around for a while, even with the curator¡¯s permission it was unlikely that we¡¯d be allowed inside to potentially interfere with the crime scene. On the other hand, Henry Snow did seem to know the upcoming course of events when he penned that letter.

    I¡¯d just have to wait and see for myself.

    <hr>

    Gertrude had mixed feelings about seeing Caius show up at her door again, though this time with the foresight to properly cover his face from sight. She was glad that the man had not yet punched his ticket to the underworld, but she couldn¡¯t agree with the reckless approach he was taking to his attempted murder. She almost burst a blood vessel when he came asking for information about Marco and the Church Street Gang.

    ¡°Oh, you didn¡¯t die ¨C Caius.¡±

    ¡°Why do you sound so disappointed?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not disappointed that you lived, I¡¯m disappointed that you won¡¯t listen to my sage advice against getting tangled up with the likes of Marco. Why have you become so reckless all of a sudden? It¡¯s because of Alice - isn¡¯t it? You won¡¯t get anywhere chasing revenge from these people.¡±

    Caius took his usual spot by the coven window and waited for the lecture to blow over again. Gertrude was always trying to act like her contact¡¯s Mother ¨C when the only real power she held was to withhold information from them. It was something that became more apparent with age.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about revenge, Gertrude. I want to make sure that Alice can be safe now and in the future.¡±

    ¡°And moving across the country won¡¯t do that for you?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve seen how influential these people are. I wouldn¡¯t put it past them to try and kill us again if the opportunity presented itself. There¡¯s no language that transcends borders quite like money. In fact, I brought a few letters for you.¡±

    Caius reached into his pocket and handed over a bundle of several copied letters from what he¡¯d stolen at Thersyn¡¯s manor. These particular pieces were not important to Maria¡¯s efforts, they were standalone pieces of gossip that would bring a high price for thieves and criminals looking to exploit them.

    Gertrude ceased her lecture and quickly read through them.

    ¡°Are these real?¡±

    ¡°Cross my heart, they are real as the day is long. They were stolen from Thersyn Bradley¡¯s private war chest, stuff he thought was valuable enough to keep around and risk implicating himself with. I can bring the originals if you want.¡±

    ¡°No, no. I¡¯ll give you this one. I can give you a good price for these. I have a feeling they¡¯ll be in demand.¡±

    Gertrude wandered off to try and find her own chest ¨C this one filled with cash earned from years of illicit transactions. Given the immense chaos within the small apartment, it would be some time before she recalled where it was last seen.

    Caius leaned forward in his chair and spoke over the rain, ¡°Cordia broke cover. I¡¯ve seen sketches of her face outside of police booths around the city.¡±

    Though it was unlikely that she¡¯d be caught even with those sketches being produced. People¡¯s memories could be fuzzy, and a verbal description did not always translate well into another¡¯s art. Cordia could walk around the city without worrying.

    ¡°And not Marco?¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t know he was involved, it seems. We got in his way so much that he couldn¡¯t even take a shot at the guy.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t push your luck with getting in his way again. He won¡¯t make the same mistakes twice.¡±

    Caius laughed, ¡°From my perspective, it looked like he¡¯d never been in a fistfight before.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a confirmation of his skill as an assassin,¡± Gertrude argued, ¡°Nobody has ever gotten close enough to do that to him.¡±

    Caius was not going to tell Gertrude about how his heart was racing during that scuffle. At first, he was planning on walking away and leaving him to it - but recalling that Alice was in Maria¡¯s care and that she was risking the safety of both herself and her servants in doing so, convinced him to jump in and take a chance.

    Now they were even. One-for-one on protecting close family members.

    ¡°My... collaborator has started talking about taking an offensive approach. The people on the list are clearly spooked by what happened at the museum, so we can focus on dismantling their little operation and preventing them from launching more attacks.¡±

    Gertrude returned with a handful of bills, ¡°I¡¯d be more worried about Marco. He¡¯s not the type to forget a face. He¡¯ll be out to get revenge on you.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Caius echoed sceptically.

    ¡°Okay, well maybe not if he isn¡¯t getting paid for it. Just be careful. You never know with those crazy folk. One day they¡¯re your best friend, the next they want nothing to do with you.¡±

    Why did Caius think of Maria when she said that?

    Sure, she was crazy. It was mad that a young girl like her was running around and gunning down assassins for a morning warmup exercise, but she was also extremely transparent with him and understood that he was motivated by factors beyond his personal loyalty or desire to repay favours. She never asked him to suffer under a task he did not desire, only doing so when she knew he had a reason to agree.

    She was, in a word, rational. It was easy to mistake that for cynicism, but Caius understood it well. Money made the world go around. Everyone was clawing for every bit of it they could get, to pay for food, clothes, and a bed to sleep in. There were many who did not have the luxury of doling out their efforts to personal vengeance or ideological struggles.

    It was as if Maria was older than her outward appearance suggested. Her sharp gaze and cool head spoke of years of experience. She always knew what she wanted and how she was going to get it. The longer he worked with her, the more premature his comparisons to Alice really felt. Alice was a child through and through. Did Maria ever have the freedom to be the same?

    In his eyes, total economic security was a fair trade for some early responsibility, so long as the person shouldering it could handle it without ill effects on their health. After all, some conditions could not be cured with an envelope filled with money and a scalpel.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep my head down. Did you hear anything interesting from the people on the list I gave you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. I gave you everything prescient the first time you asked.¡±

    ¡°Gave me? I had to pay for it.¡±

    Gertrude grinned, ¡°Aye, and if you die I won¡¯t be able to do business with you again. Try not to die out there.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Maria Walston-Carter.¡±

    Marco jolted back to life, having been forced to sit at the same table and wait for hours without any activity. Cordia stood before him with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, though that was nothing unusual at this point.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°The girl who interfered with us at the museum, and the same one who questioned me after breaking into my apartment. She probably had something to do with Thersyn¡¯s arrest too.¡±

    Cordia had used all of her contacts and all of her wile to figure out who was responsible. It was a painfully slow process of bringing up the museum shooting, inquiring about the ruby-eyed girl she spied on the upper balcony, and then wondering aloud as to her true identity, usually in the context of being falsely concerned about her safety.

    The breakthrough came swiftly and suddenly through a singular maid who¡¯d worked at the Walston-Carter house before her contract expired. The dark hair and red eyes were immediately attributed to the only daughter of the family, Maria. Their ages lined up too.

    Marco exhaled through his nose and nodded.

    ¡°Why do you look so relieved?¡± she inquired.

    ¡°I mistook her for someone else.¡±

    ¡°Someone else, that being?¡±

    Marco refused to answer, ¡°I¡¯m not talking about it. That¡¯s ancient history, and Goddess knows she might still be keeping an eye on me.¡±

    If Marco had his way ¨C all of his memories relating to this person would be permanently suppressed from his mind. It was a bad time. They were the ones who showed him the boundless cruelty by which men could act. They also taught him the most important lessons about being an assassin. He was ashamed to say that by working with Cordia, he¡¯d broken one of those golden rules.

    ¡°Cordia, that last attempt was a failure. Why did you shoot at her before we could find Clemens?¡±

    ¡°She was about to execute you.¡±

    ¡°Even so, it would have been better to take that risk and find him first before worrying about me.¡±

    Cordia was reflexively willing to defend her decision-making, even when she knew that her choices led to the failure of her plan. Marco was sugar-coating how he felt about her rescuing him, he thought it was a stupid decision that compromised the objective they were there to complete.

    ¡°You got paid regardless. You can thank Lady Franzheim for that.¡±

    ¡°Sure ¨C I¡¯ll keep fighting so long as the money rolls in, but I have my pride too. I want to do the job right. I want to handle the next one. Security is going to be much tougher now that we¡¯ve been exposed.¡±

    Cordia considered his demands for some time before reaching a conclusion. The museum plan was one mainly of her own making. She was the one who picked the spot and gathered the information. Marco played along ¨C but it was obvious that he chafed under conditions set by other people. He had to base his entire approach around something outside of his control.

    It was rare for Cordia to cede responsibility entirely to her hires, but the previous approach was clearly limiting Marco¡¯s ability to deliver the desired outcomes. Cordia was all about results. If one element of the operation was compromising the others, it was time to make changes.

    ¡°She¡¯s only a teenager, but Walston-Carter is going to be problematic moving forward. She must be removed from the board before she can utilise the information she¡¯s gathered from the extremities of our organization.¡±

    Marco grumbled, ¡°It¡¯s going to be difficult to find a girl who has no public engagements planned, even ignoring the difficulty she may pose as an opponent. Killing a politician is much easier ¨C they want to be seen by as many people as possible.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a problem with doing it?¡±

    ¡°She killed one of my men. I¡¯ve always held a belief that those who are prepared to kill, are prepared to die by the same standard. I do not imagine that she expects no retaliation from us in exchange. She is the priority. The politicians can wait.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Cordia harrumphed, ¡°There are still two months until the elections, but my Mistress would like to see results a month before and no later. That will give the populace time to consider their choices carefully and select candidates that are more appropriate.¡±

    Marco paused, ¡°Are you a true believer, Cordia?¡±

    ¡°Would I be willing to do this if I did not believe it to be the best course of action?¡±

    ¡°I thought it was curious. I don¡¯t run into people who care so strongly about the monarchy often.¡±

    ¡°There is universal support for the Van Walser family in the south, both upper and lower classes believe they are the rightful leaders of this nation.¡±

    Marco shrugged, ¡°It doesn¡¯t make any difference to me. My buddy is always running his mouth calling the parliamentarians parasites and what have you, but he doesn¡¯t seem to assign the same level of blame to the Van Walsers and their immense wealth.¡±

    ¡°They have the Divine Right, Marco.¡±

    Marco laughed, ¡°Divine Right? It didn¡¯t do them much good when people were braying for their heads. All I¡¯m saying is that you should be careful what you wish for. Not everyone is going to agree with a sudden change in direction now.¡±

    ¡°You would do well not to poke and prod at the people paying your wage.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say it to them, did I?¡±

    Cordia glared at Marco before leaving the room, she didn¡¯t have time for an elongated argument about it. The populace would see that the old ways were superior, they merely needed an example to follow.

 Chapter 73

    The first person on my ¡®list¡¯ was Lady Carides Franzheim. She was supposedly referred to by the nickname ¡®Carrie,¡¯ but only by close family members. Carides was the lynchpin holding the conspirators¡¯ northern operation together. She was the one building bridges between Duchess Rentree and the northerly noble families who didn¡¯t think too highly of that unwashed lot from the south.

    With that said ¨C the letters being sent between Thersyn and Rentree were utterly scathing. They couldn¡¯t stand the woman, and would eagerly take every opportunity to mock her intelligence, and her belief that she was somehow in control of the situation. Cordia was the one put in charge of keeping her on a short leash, but that also meant she had to follow her orders sometimes.

    It was hard to describe the sheer vitriol being spewed in their written correspondence when Sam asked me about it. Even Cordia was getting in on the act and taking cheap shots behind her back. They had a strange way of showing gratitude to the woman making their idiotic plans possible in the first place.

    Lance was willing to tell me a few things about her in discussions about our respective home lives. Carrie was open about her support of the Van Walser family and returning them to power, though Lance qualified it by stating that she¡¯d never allow that desire to spiral out of control. It was a little late to be saying that given what I knew.

    The impression I got from him was that she was amusing herself. She coveted the idea of being the one pulling strings behind the scenes, to be the playmaker. Cordia and Rentree gave her that opportunity and allowed her to run with it. They were right to call her a fool and worse, she was way in over her head.

    She was the connective tissue of their plan, but she was also the weakest link. I didn¡¯t need to kill her to sow discord. A few hints that she was heading towards a tragic ending, just like Thersyn, would chill her to the bone and put a stop to all of that. All good nobles delivered their blackmail through letters, and the Walser postal service was always happy to deliver as long as you paid for a stamp.

    Being vague was not what I wanted. I wanted to scare the pants off of this woman. The best way to do that was to lavish her with details that only someone with insider knowledge could state to have. Thanks to Thersyn¡¯s gossip chest I had all of the pieces I needed to make it clear that she was going to regret going any further.

    I did get a strange thrill out of writing a threatening message, twisting her arm and making sure to pace out each reveal for maximum impact. I never got to do that in my old life. Once I was certain that Carrie was feeling good and paranoid about me, I made the hard sell and told her to quit while she still had the chance, or she¡¯d end up just like her good friend Thersyn.

    Of course, a good assassin always came with a backup plan ¨C so I included one of the letters we didn¡¯t need, where Cordia and Rentree spent two full, end to end pages lambasting her for everything from the way she spoke to her business interests. She might not choose to stop for the sake of the Van Walser family, but it would increase tensions in an already volatile situation.

    The hardest part of this plan of mine was finding her address. Asking Lance for it would elicit no end of questions, so I had to fall back on slowly shaping our conversations at the tennis society until he spilt the beans. He must have thought that I was planning on becoming an architect by that point given that I never shut up about the design of his family¡¯s home and its location.

    I mailed the sealed letter back to Franklin and told him to double-check my work. I received an affirmative response the next day. One of our current contracted servants had worked there for a spell and was willing to share details about their time there under the mistaken belief that Franklin was networking for a mutual friend. Franklin sent my threatening mail to the posted address without a name and I crossed my fingers.

    There was a small chance that Carides wouldn¡¯t even read the damn thing. Not everyone was like my Father ¨C eagerly reading every piece of mail that came through the front door even if it was obviously junk from the outset. A servant would often take the responsibility of opening and screening them. I belaboured the point on the envelope and in the header that it was for her specifically, and that it contained private information for her eyes only.

    I¡¯d be a fool to leave all of my eggs in that particular basket. Any differences that came about as a result were a nice bonus that tilted the odds in my favour. There was no getting around the fact that not all of them were ¡®soft supporters.¡¯ Thersyn was already willing to kill for his beliefs, as was Cordia. Rentree was paying for all of this. She understood what was on the line when she sent Cordia to kill Clemens.

    Separated from my personal opinions about the flaws in Walser¡¯s political system, I could not agree with their plan or their perspective. I really was in no place to say something like that though. I¡¯d forsaken many of my rights and moral principles when I started killing people for cash. I was being the lesser-evil, and that was what my mysterious benefactor wanted.

    One thing was for certain, I did not want to endure a civil war. The consequences would be far-reaching and would not discriminate. Those who chomped at the bit for war were the ones who took it too lightly. It was also counter productive to their goals. Galvanizing the populace and forcing them to decide between the two starkest choices, monarchy or democracy, would mean that failure could result in the Van Walser family being stripped of everything. There¡¯d be no coming back from that.

    It was easy to forget that Theodore Van Walser was attending the academy with us. The higher years were an elusive species, and his security was extra tight ever since the attempt on Felipe¡¯s life. He went nowhere without two armed guards following along and standing outside of whatever room he was in.

    I wasn¡¯t trying to woo him, so I was content to let him live his life without my interference. He was probably sick and tired of hearing the other students crack jokes about his Father being a Scuncath, they really were fonts of originality.

    While I was worrying about tracking down and killing Cordia and Rentree, the other students were more concerned about what subjects they were going to take when their elective forms arrived in the coming months. There were two distinct camps. Those who were here for the sake of it and already had roles lined up by their parents, and those who cared about getting into a field they were passionate about.

    Obviously, Claude was in the latter.

    ¡°I asked the teachers what subjects would be best for trying to become a police detective, and they said they¡¯d get back to me later. I can¡¯t wait that long!¡± he complained.

    ¡°Why not? We still have months before the final deadline,¡± Samantha replied.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I need to be studying up on. It¡¯s not a very efficient use of my time to guess which subjects are most important.¡±

    ¡°So why do you spend so much time reading those crime novels?¡±

    Claude clammed up, ¡°W-Well, it isn¡¯t good for the brain if you spend too much time working hard! You need to give it a rest from time to time.¡±

    Max snickered, ¡°Yeah, but you and I have very different standards when it comes to hard work.¡±

    ¡°Oh, shut up Max. Since you¡¯re so self-assured about it, I presume you¡¯ve already selected your subjects?¡±

    He was much quieter about that, ¡°No, not yet.¡±

    All their eyes turned to me as if they were expecting a contribution. I was only half paying attention to what they were saying. I was so deep in thought that I was covering my mouth and tapping my foot.

    ¡°Hell must have frozen over. What¡¯s on her mind?¡± Claude whispered, ¡°Because I¡¯d bet good money that it¡¯s not our electives.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know that,¡± Max said in refutation, ¡°Everyone handles difficult decisions in different ways. Just because Maria remains unflappable doesn¡¯t mean she has no nerves to speak of.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡±

    ¡°Based on what, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Based on everything I¡¯ve seen from her! She¡¯s as cold as ice, that girl.¡±

    ¡°And she¡¯s standing right in front of you while you insult her.¡±

    I finally looked up to my adoring fans and frowned, ¡°I¡¯m used to Claude¡¯s careless words by now. It¡¯s no mystery as to why he has such a bad reputation with the other girls.¡±

    Claude turned red, ¡°Hey! It¡¯s not that bad. I think I¡¯m in with a good shot of landing a date for the prom.¡±

    ¡°Anything is possible if you give yourself a six-year lead-in to the deadline.¡±

    Max found that response hilarious. He always thought that my dry cynicism was amusing. He covered his mouth and tried not to disrupt the others, who were warming up with some magic exercises before Miss Jennings arrived. There was another issue. Felipe was weary of me given past events, though he had not yet told the truth to anyone else.

    I couldn¡¯t pin down why but it was as if his anxieties about me were getting worse with time. Was it because I didn¡¯t show any outward signs of being affected by killing another person? That might explain why he started off trying to make it business as usual but eventually gave up. Or he could have simply changed his mind about the worth of my violence.

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    A weaker sort would grow upset about their well-intentioned deeds going unappreciated, but I was not that sort of person. A majority of people would not separate the means and outcomes that way. A normal person would not eagerly go along with whatever a mass killer told them. A normal person would only see the blood spilt to pave the way.

    Felipe was a normal person. He was a rich son of a noble family who¡¯d never engaged in violence like this. His disquiet was seeded from the moment that he learned of my involvement and only grew more prominent with time. It must have been a complex mixture of different emotions. Was it safe for him to be here with me, knowing what he did? Was it even worth killing all of those men for the sake of protecting one life? He was certainly not imagining all of the other potential victims who were now spared their threat.

    I¡¯d be worried if I had a kid thinking that way. I was happy that he hadn¡¯t fallen into my own type of craven rationalisation, but his cold shoulder was making me uncomfortable. I was waiting for him to finally crack and try to tell someone about what I did at the party.

    When Felipe and Jennings stepped through the rear doors of the main building, he avoided making eye contact with me and put on a smile that was filled with hidden tension. It was going to be another painful hour of tutoring. While everyone else got acclimated to the day¡¯s subject matter, Miss Jennings pulled Samantha and me aside to have a word with us about our loaned books.

    ¡°So, have you two fully explored the books I gave you?¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°I finished the last one this week. I would have liked to have completed them all sooner ¨C but we were too busy to spend all of our time reading.¡±

    I bowed my head, ¡°Apologies. It was my fault.¡±

    I was too occupied running around like a damned idiot, putting out fires and starting one or two of my own. Eventually, I managed to power through some of the tomes and pass them off to Samantha so she could get started on them as well.

    ¡°There¡¯s no rush,¡± Miss Jennings insisted, ¡°I was curious, that¡¯s all. I¡¯ve read all of them a dozen times over myself.¡±

    ¡°Are you interested in learning nihility or regeneration magic?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Hm. No. I don¡¯t have a natural affinity for it like you two do. It was mainly to advance my own understanding of the art as a whole rather than to pick up a few tricks I could use. A well-rounded understanding of every field is what separates a good teacher from an excellent one.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll return them to you as soon as possible,¡± Samantha promised.

    ¡°Thank you. Don¡¯t be afraid to come by and ask for advice if you need it.¡±

    With that sorted, we returned to the main group and started the day¡¯s drills. Felipe put on his brave face and stood at the head of our cohort to deliver some nuggets of wisdom. We¡¯d moved on from manipulating wind currents to ionisation, the fundamentals of shooting lightning from your fingers and triggering more advanced reactions.

    I was already familiar with what Jennings chose to cover, so I breezed through most of the lesson without paying it any mind. I wonder how frustrated Jennings felt knowing that there were two extremely talented mages in her class, both of whom were being asked to work at the same pace as everyone else.

    I hung back as the rest of the class returned to the building. I was overheating from all of the magical energy that I was expending. I wanted to stay out in the fresh air and have a moment of quiet. Samantha hurried away to return to the books.

    My eyes were inevitably drawn to the tree at the back of the practice area.

    It was still there in the same condition as it was after Prier shot at us. There was some brief conversation between the teachers about cutting it down before it became a sort of morbid memorial to him, but there was no reason to do so in the end. The tree was perfectly innocent and it was still alive. It was better for it to be wounded than to be nothing more than a stump.

    Dealing with Felipe¡¯s situation felt quaint in comparison to what was going on now. That gunshot marked the moment when everything started to go wrong for me. It was the starting pistol on a marathon of bullshit ¨C getting dragged against my will into dangerous business.

    How could I have ever interpreted this as a punishment? If this was meant to be a moral lesson, letting me loose to do the same as I always did was hardly an effective methodology. I was their hand grenade, tossed into a chaotic place and time to see if making matters more unstable would change the tide.

    I had a guest, and it was easy to guess who it was.

    ¡°Hello, Felipe. It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve talked one-on-one.¡±

    ¡°It has.¡±

    He walked past me and approached the tree, placing his palm over the shredded bark. He had more reasons to be contemplative about this place than me. He nearly died here ¨C his young life snatched away by circumstance. It struck me that Felipe was the empathetic type. He didn¡¯t like it when people got hurt, even if they were acting maliciously. He was similar to Lance in that respect.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking a lot about the last time we spoke.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to make a joke, Maria. I¡¯m concerned about you.¡±

    ¡°Am I not the last person you need to concern yourself with? I am more than capable of handling myself.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about using a gun. It¡¯s everything else. Are you putting on a strong front, or are you genuinely just fine with the way things are? It is not healthy for the mind to burden yourself with these dark thoughts.¡±

    ¡°I do not think dark thoughts. I understand that it can be difficult to discern the difference between cynicism and pessimism, I¡¯m merely adjusting my expectations accordingly, given past events.¡±

    ¡°Is this what you want to be?¡± Felipe asked.

    It was an unexpectedly hostile question, which was shown by his following attempt to soften it into something more reasonable.

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to say that you relish this sort of situation, but to me, it seems that you¡¯ve already accepted it. That¡¯s no way for a young lady to live.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s to say how a lady can and cannot live?¡±

    ¡°And you always try to divert attention away from the issue when someone asks. Have you ever given it some honest thought? Do you feel bad about what you did?¡±

    I sighed, ¡°I don¡¯t derive any enjoyment from it. I would rather live my days without having to worry about armed men bursting through the doors and gunning down my friends and family. Did we not have this conversation once before?¡±

    Felipe hesitated, ¡°I know it¡¯s not fair to say this ¨C but the longer I let it linger, the worse it felt.¡±

    My gaze hardened, ¡°What you don¡¯t seem to get is that I don¡¯t have any control over what other people elect to do. None of us do. When someone is here with the intent of doing nought but harm, what other choice do we have than to deal with it in a way of our choosing? I would not stand to let you or anyone else die as a result of their actions.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem. What you did was selfless, but I can¡¯t stop myself from thinking that it wasn¡¯t good either. That¡¯s not fair to you, you risked your life for mine after all.¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°It isn¡¯t fair ¨C indeed, but I cannot chastise you for an errant thought like that. The situation we¡¯re in is complicated, and there are no easy answers that can satisfy both sides of our internal conflict. I second-guess myself often along similar lines.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get your meaning,¡± he said frankly.

    ¡°What I mean is that you don¡¯t have to like it. You¡¯re right in saying that what I did was extreme on both occasions. You should not feel guilty for being shocked by what happened.¡±

    His frustration diffused slightly as I gave it to him straight. That was what he wanted to hear, assurances that his worries weren¡¯t selfish or misplaced. Felipe was still young, younger than me, there was a lot of life left to live and a lot of lessons to learn along the way. This was probably the first time he¡¯d felt this way about a situation he found himself in.

    ¡°You believe that too?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a matter of believing it. I won¡¯t be upset if that¡¯s what you mean.¡±

    There was a moment of silence between us as he internalized my response. I didn¡¯t know if it was what he was looking for exactly, but I was no mind reader. My social graces mainly extended to making people feel assured by my presence. I was a great ass-kisser and yes-man because that was a good way to make targets trust me.

    ¡°I heard that your Uncle was attacked too.¡±

    I was not anticipating this coming up.

    ¡°Luckily he escaped unscathed. The proliferation of political violence in Walser is starting to worry me. Are those the principles the monarchists wish to extoll to the populace?¡±

    Felipe did not know that I was there at the museum, so he was more focused on the emotional impact the attack had on me. I reset my focus and tried to show outward concern about it so that he wouldn¡¯t become needlessly suspicious about my response.

    ¡°Why do you think the monarchists did it?¡± Felipe asked curiously.

    ¡°Seems fairly obvious from where I¡¯m standing. The Social Democrat party is predicted to be the biggest Republican force in the next sitting term. They¡¯re trying to pick off people like my Uncle so that their campaign is thrown into disarray.¡±

    He nodded, ¡°Oh. I wasn¡¯t aware of that. I don¡¯t pay much attention to politics.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard not to in my household, given my Uncle¡¯s involvement.¡±

    ¡°But won¡¯t the voters notice that transparent effort and vote for the Social Democrats regardless?¡±

    I laughed, ¡°As I said ¨C the average mind is a complex being. People may never react to something in the way you expect. Their loyalty may only be commanded or swayed by the charisma of a singular speaker.¡±

    With that said, I agreed with Felipe. Killing any of the Democratic leaders would potentially have a disastrous impact on the Monarchists¡¯ election efforts. It would motivate voters to boot them from the house, negating any impact from killing one of their popular speakers. It was an irrational risk to take ¨C one that depended on the populace¡¯s hunger for violence during this time of uncertainty.

    With Thersyn behind bars and their media fronts bleeding credibility though, stoking the flames of division was now much harder for them. Being a Scuncath was such a strong black mark against an individual that it easily blew past whatever pre-held biases the readership possessed. They were moving onto other monarchist-leaning sources and newspapers to fill the void, ones which were more than happy to kick Thersyn¡¯s struggling papers while they were down.

    Convincing one of them to sell out and join up with the plot was a hard task. Why settle for being a puppet when you could grow to become the master? With the elections looming, they didn¡¯t have time to fatten them up into having the platform that Thersyn once did either.

    If Carides Franzheim backed out thanks to her involvement being known ¨C then they¡¯d really struggle to do anything more than killing some politicians with Cordia and Marco. At that point, they may as well give up on the whole plan.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll have to take your word for it. Just don¡¯t go running in guns blazing trying to take them all down. I don¡¯t see it ending well.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I lied, ¡°I think I used a lifetime¡¯s worth of luck surviving the incident at the theatre. I won¡¯t soon be placing my body into similar circumstances if I can help it.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, it makes me despair to think that so many people believe that violence will solve their problems.¡±

    I led Felipe back to the main school building while he muttered more words of disparagement under his breath. The issue was not that violence would solve their problems, so much as they were invested in returning to a version of Walser where their own power and influence held significant sway over public life and politics. The mere potential for the wider public to take control from them via democratic elections chilled them to the core.

    It was not a ¡®problem,¡¯ per se. They could easily live their lives without ever worrying about their financial security. What they wanted was more. They wanted control over the laws that were made and passed. They wanted no restrictions on how where or when they could do business. They were a group of people who were not used to being told no. They couldn¡¯t cope with the idea of it.

    Through that lens, their violence became both existential to the survival of their Walser, while also being ultimately frivolous in nature. There was not even a brief consideration of the impact that their choices had on others. If innocent bystanders died ¨C then it was only justified to restore Walser to its former glory. A weaker, centralised nation that was being rapidly outpaced by its neighbours, and strangled with a weak governmental system driven by the whims of a select few, many of whom possessed no interest in leading in the first place.

    The march of progress continued no matter what they tried.

    I could have chosen to leave them to their devices with that knowledge, but it was personal this time. Maria Walston-Carter wasn¡¯t going to let some ruffians kill her dearest Uncle now, was she? The last pieces to knock over were in clear view. Cordia, Marco and Duchess Rentree. They¡¯d learn to regret ever crossing paths with me.

 Chapter 74

    ¡°We¡¯re going to try and do things your way, Samantha.¡±

    She nearly fell out of her chair as I suddenly revealed my intentions for the next operation.

    ¡°What? You nearly bit my head off when I suggested that last time!¡±

    ¡°Felipe said something that made me think. How can I be so sure that we can¡¯t do this peacefully when I haven¡¯t tried it yet? If they refuse to acquiesce to good sense then we¡¯ll simply have to adjust our plans accordingly.¡±

    Samantha was seeing me as more reasonable than I really was. I was only entertaining this idea through a mixture of curiosity, and having enough leverage to lean on the conspirators without resorting to threats of violence.

    ¡°What brought this on? You must have a reason.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°As it happens ¨C Duchess Rentree and company are visiting the Franzheim house owned by Carides in a week. It¡¯s a veritable who¡¯s who of names and faces from the letters we stole. That means they¡¯re here for one reason.¡±

    ¡°To try and keep everything running smoothly.¡±

    ¡°Correct. Franklin has been keeping his ear to the ground about it. They¡¯re organizing the whole thing in a hurry. That helpful warning we sent to Carides must have shaken her nerves somewhat, so Rentree is visiting to try and cement her support moving forward. If she loses Carides...¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all over for them?¡±

    I frowned, ¡°Perhaps. Their plans to ferment anarchy won¡¯t go so well if they don¡¯t end up in control of the government in exchange. We¡¯ll still have to be guarded about them killing members of the Social Democrats; you should never assume that they¡¯ll do the rational thing and give up.¡±

    ¡°Cordia will be there, won¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. She¡¯ll be looking for me after what happened at the museum, and I can¡¯t expect an invitation from Franzheim if she knows the same.¡±

    It was up in the air as to whether Cordia would resort to violence to stop me if I showed my face at the meeting. It was safe to assume that some of the conspirators were only involved on a need-to-know basis, given the wide range of tones in the letters I¡¯d read. Rentree was trying her level best to appeal to everyone at the same time, taking a softer approach to the members who didn¡¯t appreciate violence.

    Samantha was worried, ¡°What are you planning on doing then? You can hardly afford to take a chance on Cordia restraining herself.¡±

    She was right. Those who weren¡¯t in the know were not important enough for Rentree to compromise her entire scheme for. Caius and I had already proved to be a tough roadblock, hijacking information which was meant to be burnt by the reader and popping up when it was least opportune. She would have to weigh up the value of taking a hard line versus us and potentially alienating them.

    ¡°Caius was insistent that we should take a page from his theatrical book and use shock and awe.¡±

    ¡°Hm, what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know,¡± I replied, ¡°Perhaps making a big show of our arrival on the property? Or bursting into the drawing room at a climactic moment to disrupt proceedings?¡±

    ¡°Seeing your face would surely shock them, but haven¡¯t you been trying to conceal your identity this whole time?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Of course. The best defence I have against any of their accusations is absurdity. Would you have believed that I was the one responsible for the gunfight at the party had you not also seen me at the theatre? From a position of weakness, one cannot levy accusations at others.¡±

    Though it was a concern. I did not want them to believe that I was a reborn assassin, or that I was personally involved in any of the violent acts that had taken place in response to their plot.

    Samantha twiddled her pencil, ¡°I do think that you could stand to listen to our opinions and ideas more often. You¡¯re as stubborn as a mule sometimes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m well aware of that. In the heat of the moment there aren¡¯t many opportunities to concoct elaborate plans like this, not when the enemy has already started shooting. Consider this your chance to show me the light.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t even spoken with him yet. I might think that he¡¯s full of bullcrap as well, and there¡¯s a pretty damn good chance of that.¡±

    ¡°He can be practical when he wants to be. It¡¯s not all about throwing roses and whipping his cape around.¡±

    ¡°Huh, I¡¯ll believe it when I see it.¡±

    Franklin was coming in clutch with all of the information gathering he was doing for us. I never realised just how leaky the environment was when a handful of attendants and servants were switching workplaces on a semi-regular basis. Some of these details were closely guarded and extremely personal, but inevitably the maids would gossip to one another about the recent goings-on, especially if they were juicy.

    It turned out that Franklin was a bit of a ladies¡¯ man. He was good-looking and well-mannered, so all of the maids thought he was the most eligible bachelor around. It was rather unusual for a man in his late twenties to remain unmarried. The average wedded age in Walser was low, settling in the early twenties instead. There was a big economic incentive to get married early, buy a home, and have a few kids who could support them as they grew older and became incapable of working.

    That worked in our favour. Even a slight show of interest in their work lives was enough to make maids, from our own house to the Franzheim¡¯s, spout secretive information like a collection of broken faucets. It made me think twice about raising my voice when they were around to hear it.

    ¡°We will make firm plans once we return to my house this weekend. The Franzheim estate is mercifully close, in comparison to some of the other nobles that live around the city.¡±

    Samantha flashed her teeth, ¡°I look forward to it.¡±

    I was dreading it.

    ¡°By the way, there¡¯s one more piece of business to attend to before we crash their party...¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°...You wanted to visit the Henry Snow Museum?¡± Sam commented dryly as we pulled up onto the main drive.

    ¡°I¡¯d really rather not. You already know how much my Father loves to extol the virtues of the man.¡±

    ¡°So, why are we here then?¡±

    I opened the door and hopped down onto the sidewalk next to the main stairs. The police had already completed their investigation of the scene and cleared out. There was no hint that this place was just the scene of a violent shooting.

    Their focus was mainly aimed at the spot where one of Clemens¡¯ guards was killed, but there were also a lot of bullet holes in the back offices thanks to me and Cordia. I didn¡¯t envy the job of the detective who was tasked with piecing this one together. It made no sense from an outsider¡¯s perspective.

    ¡°I kept forgetting to tell you ¨C but when we were here last time the curator approached me and handed me a letter that he¡¯d been holding onto for a very long time.¡±

    ¡°What did it say?¡±

    ¡°It was from the man himself, Henry Snow knew that I¡¯d be there, even though he died before I was born.¡±

    Samantha''s brow rose in scepticism, ¡°How is that possible?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not certain. He was clearly privy to information that any normal person couldn¡¯t possess. It told me to come here again on this day and bring my ¡®destined partner¡¯ with me, who I can only presume to be you.¡±

    ¡°Destined partner? That makes it sound like we¡¯re going to be wed.¡±

    ¡°While I¡¯m sure you¡¯d be more than happy to do so, I do believe that it is a more metaphorical use of the term than what you allege.¡±

    Samantha huffed and crossed her arms, ¡°Who¡¯d want to marry a rotten girl like you?¡±

    ¡°I was rightly suspicious about how and why he gave that information to me. It¡¯s much more than a simple coincidence.¡±

    ¡°Do you think this is some kind of trap?¡±

    ¡°No. Who would be able to predict those events with such accuracy? They should have used that knowledge to kill me, not send me a letter.¡±

    We walked up the stairs and peered through the glass door into the main lobby. True to form, the Curator was already waiting for us with a key loop in hand. He shuffled towards us and unlocked the door.

    ¡°Miss Walston-Carter! I¡¯m glad that you decided to visit. And who is this lovely lady beside you?¡±

    Sam introduced herself, ¡°I¡¯m Samantha Easton.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. Now, we¡¯re on a fairly tight schedule today, so if you¡¯d please follow me to the etherscope.¡±

    Samantha gave me a bewildered look as we were escorted through the lobby and into the main showroom. The museum was closed today. There wasn¡¯t a singular soul in the building aside from us. The etherscope¡¯s absurdity became increasingly evident when seeing it from the ground floor.

    The number-one aspect of the device that put both me and Samantha on edge was the airlock-style door that bulged outwards from the front. A tiny, circular window was the only view into the interior, and that was blocked by a second dividing chamber that granted access to the etherscope itself.

    The Curator was quick to try and assuage our concerns about it; ¡°Now, now ¨C there¡¯s no need to be afraid of this old thing. It¡¯s one of the few machines in this museum that works without a hitch! It won¡¯t do anything so long as you don¡¯t cast any spells in there without restraining yourself.¡±

    ¡°What does it do?¡± Samantha asked.

    ¡°The etherscope is a magic catalyser. Any magical energy that you spend on the inside will be more efficient and powerful, which it achieves by creating a unique mixture of atmospheric conditions and by storing raw magic using a special kind of crystal. Sir Snow also attested to its ability to connect one with ¡®existences beyond our own reality,¡¯ though none of our guests have ever managed to do the same.¡±

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I nodded, ¡°I get the picture.¡±

    ¡°Lady Walston-Carter, if you¡¯d like to do the honours and go first. Samantha and I can manage the controls from out here.¡±

    There was no benefit in dallying and hoping for more details now. It was time to take the plunge and see if this Goddess was all she was cracked up to be. I twisted the handle on the chamber door and stepped through into the airlock, slamming the door shut again behind me and locking it tight.

    ¡°Okay! That¡¯s secure, make sure to tighten the inner door as well!¡± The Curator said through a small channel in the brass structure, ¡°We won¡¯t be able to speak once you¡¯re inside. I¡¯ll keep the injector running for five minutes. Don¡¯t worry ¨C you¡¯ll definitely hear it once it starts.¡±

    The interior chamber of the etherscope was more elaborate than I expected from the otherwise robust construction and casting. A layer of black rubber had been pinned to the brass walls, and several long antennae poked through to form circular rings at the top and middle. A single, larger antenna pointed straight downwards from above, giving enough clearance for a person to stand beneath.

    There was a loud rumble and the entire place shook. It sounded like an engine had started on the outside. I tapped into my extra senses and tracked the flow of magic energy, which was now pouring through small holes drilled between the rubber and brass. My hair stood on end as a thrum of energy rushed through and subtly manipulated the atmospheric conditions to maximize my magical power.

    Henry Snow really was ahead of his time to build something like this.

    For a minute I pondered what my part in this was supposed to be. There was no obvious path for me to take, there were no objects inside of the chamber for me to utilise, and I knew of no spells that allowed me to tear the fabric between realities to speak with a so-called God.

    As it turned out ¨C I needed only to wait.

    I stood in the middle of the chamber and was taken aback as suddenly all of the light and sound that surrounded me disappeared into nothing. The steampunk mechanism I was inhabited was nowhere to be found ¨C replaced with a black void. The floor below perfectly reflected what was above. I saw my own reflection staring up at me. Each movement sent clear ripples echoing across the water-like surface.

    I was still alone though. I walked to the other side of the room only to find that the walls were no longer present, as if I¡¯d been transported to another place entirely. I could keep going for however long I wanted. I closed my eyes again and expanded my senses, and it was that which unlocked the gateway to the visitor from beyond. The horizon tremored with each word like a waveform.

    ¡°Jensen Weller. Have you adjusted to your new life as Maria Walston-Carter? I hope that you are well.¡± Her voice was strong yet ethereal. It attacked me from all sides, being projected from no specific source or location.

    I crossed my arms, ¡°Well enough, but I am replete with questions for you.¡±

    ¡°I understand. To answer your questions is why I brought you here. Today is an important day. The conversation we are about to have has long-term ramifications for the future of this world. I am the one they call the Goddess, and I am the benefactor who granted you a second life. But you can call me Durandia.¡±

    Durandia? The Goddess had a name, and seemingly a sense of self to go with it.

    ¡°You could have-¡±

    ¡°-Chosen someone more suited, or deserving?¡±

    I nodded silently.

    ¡°It is not a matter of moral worth. You are the puzzle piece that I have been missing. There are threats to this world that I am not capable of solving using my power. That is why I brought you here and implanted you into an empty vessel, whilst maintaining your free will ¨C as we are required to do.¡±

    ¡°How can I have free will when you tweaked with my head? Didn¡¯t you change my mental state to make me fit into this body?¡±

    ¡°Preserving free will is a complicated subject. Those changes were deemed to not impact your decision-making ability. You are as you were during your past life. An individual is not capable of ¡®choosing¡¯ their identity in an honest sense. Every mortal being is affected by the environment they are raised in. It is a process that begins without their knowledge or consent.¡±

    I glanced around me to try and locate where her voice was coming from, ¡°Couldn¡¯t you make a visible form for me to speak with?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that such aesthetic benefits will shorten our already scant time to speak, Maria.¡±

    I sighed, ¡°Fine ¨C but you better have some good answers ready for me.¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± she said assertively, ¡°In fact, I already know everything you are about to ask.¡±

    The gears turned in my head, ¡°You can see everything that¡¯s going to happen, and that¡¯s how Henry Snow knew to send me that letter?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Both the letters and the construction of this chamber came about as a result of my meddling. This discussion has been decades in the making - even before you were brought here to this world. I had a helping hand from your previous custodian, who allowed for the creation of Love Revolution.¡±

    ¡°From all the way back then? I can¡¯t believe you put so much effort into this.¡±

    ¡°I had no choice. You have already deduced one fundamental truth through Cordia¡¯s actions. One cannot change the course of history, it marches ever onward outside of any control. The only difference between you and me is that I am aware of future events. Despite this knowledge, I am incapable of changing them as I see fit. In order to achieve the best ends for this world I must tread the path laid for me and see it through. I saw a future in which you proved pivotal to this world¡¯s salvation.¡±

    ¡°Really? We¡¯re going with the world¡¯s saviour angle now?¡±

    That was a big leap from getting into bloody spats with political opportunists. I hadn¡¯t seen anything that would make my mind go to that kind of escalatory rhetoric. Conscious of the short time we were given to speak, I moved things along and posed my next question.

    ¡°If I¡¯m supposedly destined to save this world ¨C why did you need to bring me here? Wouldn¡¯t it have been easier to leave it alone and let me do my thing?¡±

    ¡°There is no specific purpose to this discussion,¡± the Goddess revealed, ¡°The mere existence of our present interaction is intended to set history on its correct course.¡±

    ¡°So it isn¡¯t about feeding me important information. You just want me to be aware that you¡¯re watching, because it¡¯ll influence the way I think and behave from now on.¡±

    ¡°Correct. Your comprehension of these facts is reassuring.¡±

    ¡°But why me?¡±

    ¡°I saw myself choosing you. I knew that you were the one I would select to handle this burden, even without seeing my own reasoning. We call these moments of self-communication ¡®cascade points,¡¯ where our future sight folds over itself and allows us to know the unknowable.¡±

    "But if you can see the future, why don''t you know what I''ll do?"

    "As the tree grows taller and more distant - the branches diverge evermore. The farthest point I could ascertain with certainty was my decision to pick you. I see now that it was the correct choice. The ''me'' in the past will undergo the same process, repeating this cycle into eternity."

    Like a Godly game of telephone.

    I opened my mouth to object, but I understood now that she would know the true meaning of my question no matter what I said. She was intentionally avoiding the point. She meant to say that she had no idea. She couldn¡¯t name the specific qualities that made me the best choice because she could only see one outcome of events, she could only see herself making that decision based on her knowledge of the future and nothing more.

    It was mind-bending. Durandia was making choices without even knowing why. Perhaps some would describe her slavish devotion to following the future as stifling, but if she was so confident that these predictions were accurate, why would she elect to do any different? Her motivation was to protect the world ¨C not to understand each individual choice in the process. Her future sight and the linearity of time created a paradox wherein she was incapable of making the ''wrong'' choice. She spied on her future self and took her answers from there.

    ¡°As you can imagine, seeing the future is as much a curse as it is a blessing. I know how this tale will conclude and every story that comes thereafter. A theoretical version of myself plucked you from the sea of souls with this intent, to save the world I watch over when my own influence cannot reach. Who started this chain? How is that possible? How can one see divergent paths when there are none? These questions elude even us.¡±

    There was a brief silence as I considered my next line of inquiry.

    ¡°Will I really save this planet?¡± I asked, ¡°Sorry for not finding that convincing.¡±

    ¡°Your scepticism makes me envious. To not know the path you walk is a precious thing. You should cherish it."

    A nice way of telling me to live happily in ignorance. She was very open about a lot of other subjects. There must have been a motivated reasoning behind her dancing around the key point. She was trying to avoid spoiling the conclusion.

    ¡°Do as you have done until now, and you will survive the trials to come. You are correct. This is no punishment. The lives of the mortals beyond the Veil are precious, and it is that value which I seek to protect. You have taken many lives ¨C but you will save many more in turn. Apologies if this sounds callous, but I can see you as nothing more than a useful tool, so removed as I am from life on your side of the curtain.¡±

    I chuckled, ¡°Actually ¨C that sounds reassuring to me. Transactional relationships like this are what I¡¯m used to.¡±

    If Durandia did not possess the ability to empathize with a single life then there was no need to seek forgiveness. It aligned with what I¡¯d concluded after protecting Felipe from the assassins during the theatre shooting. Durandia did not want a good, virtuous knight in shining armour, because the non-existent self she gleamed in the future already understood that it would not present the outcome she desired.

    But there was one other big question on my mind. Samantha was clearly the ¡®destined partner¡¯ she spoke of in the letter. What did that mean? I doubted that we were about to depart on a whirlwind romance and save the world with a wedding ceremony. There was more significance to that term.

    ¡°What are you going to tell Samantha when it¡¯s her turn?¡±

    ¡°I will tell her what is necessary.¡±

    I scoffed, ¡°You¡¯re not going to throw me under the bus and tell her the truth, are you?¡±

    Durandia was firm, ¡°No. Samantha is a less cynical being than you. There is still an element of ¡®belief¡¯ in her mind. She will treat this moment with a certain weight that you cannot. From the moment I revealed my name you have thought less of me. Curious.¡±

    ¡°You make it sound so insulting.¡±

    ¡°One day - you will say with honesty that hearing my name turned me from a God into something more tangible.¡±

    She was right on the money, but I wasn¡¯t going to give her the satisfaction of agreeing with her. I shook my head like a petulant child and refused to accept it.

    ¡°If you¡¯re a God, why can¡¯t you solve this big problem on your own?¡±

    ¡°As we are instructed to protect free will, we also must abide by other rules. Beyond that ¨C affecting great change through the Veil is an exhausting process. My energy can only go so far, just like the magic that you wield. It is only through the etherscope that we may speak freely like this.¡±

    How convenient. A God that was simultaneously powerful enough to rip my departed soul from the afterlife and create a fake body and identity to put it into, but also too weak to snap her fingers and end the problem before it started. Those must have been some pretty strict rules to bind her like this.

    ¡°With that said, our time is running short. I must preserve some of my energy to speak with Samantha.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to pull the wool over her eyes and fill her with divine purpose?¡±

    ¡°I will not lie. Samantha will be told what she needs to hear. As for your identity, that remains your truth to hold. I hope you carefully consider the consequences before sharing it with her.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°Shut up. You already know what I¡¯m going to do, don¡¯t you?¡±

    There was a brief silence before she responded, ¡°Yes, I do. But I had to say that so that you¡¯d remember it later.¡±

    She was purposefully saying redundant things just to foreshadow future events. There was no way in hell that Samantha would understand whatever was going on here. Even I was starting to lose track of the way she behaved. A five-minute discussion was more than enough to fry my brain.

    ¡°Alright, alright. Spare me any more of these games.¡±

    ¡°Very well. We will speak again, eventually. Until then, have a nice life.¡±

    Just as quickly as I was pulled into this reflective void, I returned to the chamber. The whir of the engine was slowing to a halt. I recalibrated my crossed eyes and headed for the exit. Samantha and the Curator were waiting for me on the outside with anxiety written onto their features.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen readings quite like that. What happened in there?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s... difficult to explain. Samantha, it¡¯s your turn.¡±

    She jolted upright, ¡°Wait, what am I supposed to do in there?¡±

    ¡°Just tune in to your magical senses ¨C and it should handle the rest for you.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t very reassuring, but I was not going to divulge the truth to the Curator without good reason. She stepped across the threshold and disappeared behind the twin doors. The noise of the motor was even louder on the outside. The Curator pulled levers and pressed big, colourful buttons until an analogue gauge on the console ticked upwards into a green zone.

    ¡°Okay. The catalyser is working and we have a pitch-perfect atmospheric reading.¡±

    The other gauges on the console started to jitter wildly.

    ¡°There it goes again.¡±

    ¡°Did that happen while I was inside?¡±

    He nodded, ¡°Indeed, are you sure that nothing unusual occurred in there?¡±

    I refused to answer. He got the message that I wasn¡¯t going to divulge what exactly Henry Snow was trying to do by building this contraption. If people knew the full implications of it ¨C it would surely pose more of a danger than it would help. Durandia was dedicated to protecting the integrity of ¡®the Veil,¡¯ whatever that was, and I instinctively knew that this catalyser gave mages the ability to pierce that Veil and speak with beings beyond our own reality.

    It was a long and agonizing wait, but after her five minutes were up ¨C the Curator turned off the engine and disengaged the climate control system. The taller girl ducked beneath the door, looking dishevelled and shell-shocked in equal measure.

    ¡°Uh, Miss Easton?¡±

    She woke up again after he spoke to her, ¡°Oh! Mister Curator, thank you for letting us inside. It was... interesting.¡±

    That was her subtle way of saying ¡®I desperately want to speak with you about what that was.¡¯ We excused ourselves and fled back to the carriage before the Curator could barrage us with any questions about why Sir Snow wanted us to use his most eccentric creation.

    Samantha sat across from me as we set off back for the estate.

    ¡°Did that really happen?¡± Samantha said.

    ¡°Yes. Yes, it did.¡±

 Chapter 75

    ¡°The Goddess spoke to me. I can¡¯t believe it!¡±

    I hushed her from across the carriage, cognizant of the man holding the reins on the outside. This cabin was soundproofed to some extent ¨C but yelling something that crazy was bound to leak through a gap and get us in serious trouble.

    ¡°That she did. I can¡¯t say I expected that when the Curator gave me the letter...¡±

    A letter which supposedly didn¡¯t tell him a thing about what the Etherscope was for. It was almost enough to make me feel bad for the old fellow, considering he¡¯d dedicated his entire life to studying Sir Snow¡¯s work. He was the one being left out of the loop.

    ¡°Did she tell you to keep your discussion a secret?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Samantha replied, ¡°But I¡¯m not sure if you¡¯ll find most of what we discussed very interesting. I spent three of my five minutes freaking out. I still think that someone is trying to play a trick on us. There¡¯s no way that was real, right?¡±

    ¡°Who else but a Goddess could have the ability to see the future? I was uncertain myself, but the contents of the letter have me believing in her legitimacy. She knew things about me that no other person should.¡±

    Samantha cupped her cheeks and kicked her legs giddily, ¡°I can¡¯t believe it. I¡¯ve been touched by the Goddess¡¯ grace! Maybe that¡¯s why I¡¯m so good with light magic!¡±

    Destined partner.

    The pieces fell into place. She and I were meant to be opposites. Samantha was given the ability to wield light magic, while I was talented with dark magic. They did say that opposites attracted. Durandia must have wanted us to work together to avert this vague disaster she described. Why those details were so sparse was worrying me.

    ¡°But to think that Henry Snow was in contact with the Goddess for so long,¡± I mused, ¡°I would have thought that a man of science would avoid becoming entangled with the unexplainable.¡±

    ¡°Unexplainable?¡±

    ¡°You know, irrational.¡±

    She nodded, ¡°Oh, I see. What she said to me was that we should use our abilities to save the world. Is she trying to say that everything we know will be under threat one day?¡±

    ¡°I believe so.¡±

    Samantha scowled, ¡°Would it have killed her to give us the details? How can we be expected to do that without any information to work off of!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s confident that we have all of the information we need as is,¡± I explained, ¡°We¡¯re just going to have to trust her judgement and keep doing what we¡¯re doing.¡±

    Samantha remained silent for five minutes after that, trying to work up the nerve to ask me a question that was burning a hole in her pocket. She was afraid of offending me by talking about my methods of operating under danger.

    ¡°Did she say anything about you... killing those gang members?¡±

    I sighed, ¡°She appears to be well beyond caring for matters such as those. Her responsibility is to protect the entire planet ¨C and that means making decisions that may be morally questionable. Were you expecting her to chastise me?¡±

    Why would she criticise me for killing? She was the one who brought me here to do just that in the first place.

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to insult you, Maria. I was curious. The Goddess is meant to stand for everything good in this world. Making such a difficult decision is surprising. She¡¯s entrusting the second half of this destiny to you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve received better gifts before,¡± I joked.

    Samantha never spoke of any particular dedication to a religious creed. There were many spread across this world of varying shapes and sizes, though worshipping the ¡®Goddess¡¯ was the most widespread by far. In a world where there were physical examples of places and people gifted incredible powers by her, it was easy for it to become the dominant creed with a strong sense of faith.

    Each church had its own way of doing things ¨C although some of the rules and pathos were codified between them by collective agreement. There were your garden variety moral standards like avoiding murder, lying and theft, and some more esoteric rules intended to commemorate important dates and people. For example, it was considered rude to eat seafood on Gerwent because on that day Chosen Saint Ethel famously resolved a dispute between fishermen by using the Goddess¡¯ teachings. Legend held that they were in danger of overexploiting the rivers and starving their village in the process. It was a good story to tell greedy kids. There were a lot of permutations that changed elements but retained the core message.

    God-fearing country folk were a stereotype from my old life and sometimes it was easy to merge the two worlds together without considering the numerous factors that drove people to religious dedication. I¡¯d found that countryside citizens tended to lean onto the more cynical side of the scale. There was a strong undercurrent of affirmation in common sense, only spreading what they knew and sticking to what was simple. Whether Durandia was the Goddess that the common folk talked her up to be was ultimately irrelevant. She could only influence us through careful planning and preparation. I received the impression that the beings beyond the Veil utilised the same magic that we did, just more powerful.

    Samantha frowned and reassessed what she thought, ¡°I suppose that bearing such a heavy responsibility means compromising from time to time, right?¡±

    ¡°I do not believe that killing is inherently evil. If the death of one saves the lives of a thousand others, you are protecting them in the process.¡±

    ¡°But what if that one person hasn¡¯t done anything wrong? What if it was an accident?¡± Samantha countered.

    ¡°That would be complicated,¡± I admitted, ¡°But trust me when I say ¨C it would take a truly tremendous stroke of bad luck to harm that many people by complete accident. It takes malice to cause that much damage.¡±

    ¡°Hm. What if they¡¯re carrying a dangerous disease with them?¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°We can hardly keep track of something like that. How could we discern who was infected as the first victim? And if they are here to be killed, it is likely too late to stop the spread anyway. I honestly cannot imagine a situation where someone would unknowingly cause death on that scale in a manner by which a preventative action would stop them.¡±

    ¡°Meaning?¡±

    ¡°The premise of the question is flawed. We can add as many qualifiers as we want, but it does not change the meaning of the original statement. To kill another in the knowledge that they may accidentally kill many others is to imply the ability to see into the future, or predict their actions so accurately as to appear as such.¡±

    ¡°Hm.¡±

    ¡°On the other hand, malicious actors like Lady Franzheim and Duchess Rentree are plain in their intentions. They mean to directly end the lives of several innocent people and plunge Walser into a violent civil war which may kill hundreds of thousands more. When someone declares intent as foul as this ¨C what else is there to do but believe them?¡±

    Or to put it simply...

    ¡°It is a difficult subject to address. As I said before, there are far too many factors to consider before making a judgement on the merits of killing another. It can only be done at that moment, knowing the full measure of what they intend.¡±

    Samantha settled back down in her seat and returned to a contemplative silence. She wasn¡¯t going to tell me exactly what Durandia said. There were two possibilities. Either she was given a boring hero¡¯s journey speech about mastering her powers and saving the world, or there was something more complex brewing. If Samantha was lying to me or hiding it by omission, it would be the first time.

    ¡°Did she say anything to you?¡±

    ¡°Actually ¨C she was very light on details when it came to me. She must have guessed that I didn¡¯t need the same kind of motivation that you did. The only takeaway I have is that we¡¯re going to get involved in some troublesome battles in the future. I think it is a good idea to intensify our training schedule.¡±

    Samantha grimaced, ¡°I wish I knew where you found all this darn energy. Not only do you exercise every morning, but you also spend an hour playing tennis on top of it. How do you even focus during our lessons?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all endurance. You could do the same if you dedicated yourself to training regularly.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that for one second. I¡¯ve been breaking my back working on the family farm since I knew how to walk.¡±

    ¡°Conditioning and physical strength are two separate issues.¡±

    Samantha groaned. I reminded myself that titbits of knowledge like that weren¡¯t widespread just yet. There were a lot of folks who didn¡¯t understand the distinction between building muscle and building stamina. This applied to a lot of fields, like physics, chemistry and political theory.

    I got comfortable and explained the rest of my divine meeting to Samantha during the trip, excluding the messy details about how and why I was brought into this world. There was one reassuring fact about all of this ¨C that Maria Walston-Carter wasn¡¯t pushed out of her own body for the sake of giving me a means of entry. She deserved better than that.

    It might also go some way to explaining the immense success of the Walston-Carter family. From what I could find in the records, we were relatively small time until a few decades ago when our businesses exploded in profitability. Was that Durandia¡¯s doing as well? She wanted me to be in the right position to do her bidding.

    As for the subject of who my Mother was, it was now theoretically possible that no such person existed. Maria was an ¡®empty shell¡¯ until I was pulled through to occupy her body. How was this body of mine created? If she struggled to speak to us without the use of a catalyser ¨C how could she expend so much energy to create a new physical form for me? Was the reason for that present struggle my creation?

    I shook my head and availed myself of such questions. There was no easy way to answer any of them. I was just going to frustrate myself by lingering on the small print. It would have taken a significant effort from my Father to conceal the identity of my Mother. There were no paintings or records, and none of the staff had ever seen her either. I¡¯d broken into his office and searched for my birth certificate once before, only to find nothing for the effort.

    Either he was hiding something big ¨C or there was nothing to hide in the first place. I only had her first name to go on.

    By the time we returned to the house, it was already past midday. Caius was waiting for us in the planning room, as I¡¯d coined it, with a pile of documents with names and faces attached. They were all of the conspirators whom Rentree was inviting to the party at Franzheim¡¯s home. This was our best shot at hitting all of them at once.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Please tell me you have a good plan ready to go.¡±

    Caius was brimming with falsely earned confidence when we met him in the drawing room of my home. The chart on the table was starting to be thinned out as conspirators were pressured to drop from the plot by vaguely threatening letters from yours truly. They may have wanted the full reinstitution of the monarchy, but only if it didn¡¯t compromise their personal comfort. Some of them had a lot more skin in the game than others.

    ¡°Franklin is a beautiful, beautiful man,¡± Caius opined, ¡°I asked him for a detailed floorplan of the Franzheim estate ¨C and he managed to get one for me.¡±

    ¡°Caius...¡±

    He held out his palms to stop me from attacking him, ¡°Hey, hey! Cool it a little. I promise that I¡¯ve been thinking about what you told me. I agree. It¡¯ll be a nice change of pace if we can do this without having to resort to violence or arson. I''m a thief by trade, after all.¡±

    ¡°I hope so,¡± Samantha piped up.

    ¡°When it comes to matters such as these ¨C the best way to go is to utilise our old friend shock-and-awe.¡±

    ¡°Maria said that you wanted to do things ¡®theatrically,¡¯ but I don¡¯t understand what that means,¡± Samantha worried. She wasn¡¯t alone in not knowing what the hell he was talking about.

    ¡°What I mean is that we can¡¯t give these folks time to think about their decisions. Rentree and her muscle are going to be trying to sway them back onto their side after what happened with Carides and Thersyn. If they waver now, the structure they¡¯ve set up to take over the government will fall to pieces.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Some will be easier to convince than others. We merely need to dissuade enough of them to make the plan untenable.¡±

    ¡°I believe that we have all of the pieces we need to make that happen. We have evidence against them, we have an ominous reputation to threaten them with, and we know the time and place of their next major gathering. I can¡¯t imagine a better window of opportunity than this.¡±

    ¡°What do you want to do?¡± I asked again.

    ¡°Firstly, you¡¯re right in assuming that the letters we have now would not be enough to kickstart a police intervention. Old money doesn¡¯t go down for ''mild misdemeanours'' like scheming to topple the government. Which is why your identity as a Walston-Carter will pay dividends. You¡¯ll be there to make the consequences of their attempt on your uncle¡¯s life very clear.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°I¡¯m not going to be wearing a mask, then?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Otherwise, how would they come to believe that an investigation could occur in the future? Having the daughter of an influential family such as yours making those threats will be more effective than the likes of us.¡±

    ¡°Us?¡± Samantha echoed. She was starting to get ahead of herself with that one.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to use your identity and the knowledge we¡¯ve gathered to craft a fine show for our gathered audience. None of them will see it coming, and when it comes to making explosive entrances - there is not a singular soul in this country who can do it better than me.¡±

    Caius moved towards one of the tables, where a black cloth had been placed over a bundle of unseen items. He whipped the cloth away, revealing what lay beneath with a flourish. A series of buckles, straps and ropes ¨C along with a pulley system. It was everything one would need to come crashing through the ceiling of a particular drawing room at a particular manor house.

    ¡°I¡¯ve used this setup a few times before. It¡¯s lightweight and easy enough for one person to utilise without help. Just remember to burst the glass first using a concussive spell. I learned that the hard way.¡±

    ¡°And what if Cordia decides to put a bullet in me and call it a day?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to let her do that.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you make it sound so simple.¡±

    Killing a girl my age in front of a group of nobles would be in poor taste ¨C but Cordia was just crazy enough to try it. However, a second thought did occur to me. When she spoke at the tennis tournament, she seemed to imply that I was the one responsible for her trip back into the past. She must have decided that taking me on directly was not worth the effort, so she used the watch to try and get a second bite of the apple.

    But was that because Caius¡¯ plan would work as is, or because I would step in and make a few changes to keep everyone safe? I groaned and clutched the sides of my head. This must have been what Durandia was complaining about when it came to knowing the future. I was second-guessing myself to try and align my actions with what I knew and expected.

    I took a step back and restated what Caius was proposing. He wanted me to rappel through the glass ceiling of the room they were using for the meeting and convince the wavering members of the coalition that I had evidence that could lead to their arrest. It wasn¡¯t going to work. There were too many uncontrollable variables involved in exposing myself without insurance.

    I wandered over to the document pile and skimmed some of the most scandalous letters from the top. These were the ones that directly implicated them in planning to commit a series of different criminal offences. If I showed them a few of these, my claims would have a lot more weight, and if I claimed to have someone on the outside ready to release them should any harm come to me...

    ¡°You¡¯re already tweaking my plan, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    I laughed, ¡°Was it that obvious?¡±

    ¡°I never said it was going to be perfect, but it does bruise my ego a little bit. You¡¯re going to be the one in the firing line though.¡±

    ¡°Hey ¨C don¡¯t forget that I¡¯m here to help too,¡± Samantha yelled.

    I struggled to see where Samantha was going to come into the equation, but that was for the best. If our plan went flawlessly, she wouldn¡¯t need to do anything and we could go home smelling like roses. Caius and Alice would be safe from future reprisals and could leave their self-imposed imprisonment in the guest rooms at the estate. Sure, the food was nice and the rooms were luxurious, but even I would start to go a little stir-crazy if I were forced to stay in one of them for weeks on end.

    ¡°Show me the floor plan. I want to start from the beginning.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°When I gave you that information about Maria Walston-Carter, I expected you to track her down ¨C not sit back and kick your feet up,¡± Cordia said with scorn. Marco placed his newspaper down and sighed.

    ¡°For what purpose? Given what you¡¯ve told me, and her behaviour during your previous attempts, it¡¯s clear that she both possesses the knowledge and the means to launch her own counterattacks. And what do you know, Duchess Rentree is gathering everyone together to meet at this very house.¡±

    ¡°You could have killed her before she had the chance.¡±

    Marco shook his head, ¡°No, no. You don¡¯t get it. That girl is smart. She already knows what we¡¯re trying to do. And why go to the effort when we can be there when she tries her little plan? It only takes one bullet to put an end to her.¡±

    Cordia was furious, ¡°You¡¯ve cracked. Did that meeting at the museum really test your nerves to this extent? If I knew that you¡¯d become such an abject coward after one fight, I never would have hired you!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get mad before you see the results.¡±

    Marco¡¯s dismissive attitude only served to anger her further. A huge amount of effort went into giving him and his men suits they could wear to attend the meeting and act as security, under the presumption that Maria would attempt to interfere or deploy hired guns of her own in retaliation. She didn¡¯t have time to argue with him now. Rentree and Franzheim were going to meet ¨C and she was expected to be there when it happened.

    She straightened out her dress and marched down the corridor towards the drawing room. A pair of Marco¡¯s men were already positioned on both sides of the door. Inside was the woman of the hour. Carides ¡°Carrie¡± Franzheim, a key supporter of the plot was now beginning to waver. From any perspective, it looked as if her home was being occupied by an invading force. There were guns on every angle of approach.

    With that said, Cordia was not anticipating any violence being used to leverage her back on their side. That would only serve to further alienate her from the cause and potentially result in police scrutiny that they didn¡¯t need. Duchess Rentree was being genuine when she said her visit was for a friendly talk.

    Franzheim tensed up when Cordia entered and stood by the opposite chair. She certainly wasn¡¯t on the same page. She believed that things could take a sour turn at any moment. It was a rational response to a series of prolific failures. This meeting with their northern collaborators was key to enforcing a calmer status quo. Franzheim was not the only one spooked by Maria¡¯s actions.

    Soon after, Duchess Rentree made her entrance. Carides Franzheim stood from her chair and curtseyed out of respect, before retaking her seat. Rentree was not interested in the pleasantries. She wasn¡¯t planning on making this trip to the north at all, but reports of Franzheim waning in her support demanded a show of dedication to try and right matters.

    ¡°It is good to see that you¡¯ve emerged from your hiding place to speak with us, Duchess.¡±

    It was already off to a tough start. The Duchess restrained her disdain for such petty comments and nodded, ¡°I understand that there is a great deal of frustration amongst you and our northern partners about recent developments. I am here to reassure you that there will be no further incidents on my account.¡±

    ¡°And what about Thersyn? You invited a Scuncath to linger amongst our ranks! He¡¯s on the front page of every newspaper from here to the plains!¡±

    ¡°Thersyn went behind our backs.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if he went against your orders, Duchess. The fact of the matter is that thanks to him, someone has evidence of our involvement, and what I assume is a clear picture of our network.¡±

    Franzheim motioned to an open letter that was on the table between them. Rentree reached over and took it into her hands, discovering that it was a veiled threat sent specifically to her address. The person penning it claimed to have a complete picture of their organization, and the means to dismantle it.

    ¡°The police won¡¯t lift a finger against us, you already know that.¡±

    ¡°But that letter was sent by no policeman, was it?¡±

    Cordia remained silent ¨C even though she already identified the person who was likely responsible. That was information given on a need-to-know basis, and Franzheim had not yet realised that she did not have the pull she believed she did.

    ¡°I am confident that despite their possession of these incriminating documents, nothing will come of these threats.¡±

    ¡°I was the only one targeted. I cannot guarantee that the others will maintain their nerve if they are to receive a similar ultimatum. Do you intend to conceal this situation from them?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Rentree replied.

    ¡°Then they will consider it a breach of trust. We are the only ones who know the full truth of what is happening, despite your prior claims that everyone is an equal partner in this plot.¡±

    Rentree tried to put on an empathetic approach; ¡°Surely you understand that a position like that is impossible to execute in practice. You are the key figure in our northern push. Without your assistance, we would have none of the infrastructure in place to reinstate the royal family when the time comes.¡±

    Franzheim was not moved, ¡°If you believe that this matter will end with a quiet acceptance, then I¡¯m afraid you are sorely mistaken. If we were to be exposed, it could set the restoration movement back decades and secure a republican majority in the next election. Between risking that and whatever threats of violence you can offer, there is only one clear answer.¡±

    ¡°I am not threatening you, or anyone else, with violence,¡± Rentree grumbled, ¡°This is simply for our own security. These meddlers have no restraint or manners. They invade our homes and do as they please.¡±

    Coming from her it was entirely unconvincing. So much time, money and effort had been spent on the violent wing of the restoration plan that everything else seemed secondary by comparison. Rentree was not above using violent means to get her way, and every member of their circle understood that already.

    The problem was that they were being pushed on from two sides. They could risk offending Rentree and her army of hired guns, or risk their livelihoods and reputation should the evidence be released to the public. The one who wrote the letter was being careful about what they did with it ¨C they weren¡¯t here merely to cause chaos, they wanted to see the plot fall apart from the inside out.

    ¡°If it comes to that, all of our crimes will be forgiven by the new parliament,¡± Rentree insisted desperately, ¡°Is it not better for us to forge ahead in the face of those risks? You and I could end up behind bars having achieved nothing!¡±

    Rentree had taken a step too far, and Franzheim pounced on her for it.

    ¡°This is not a suicide charge, Duchess Rentree. Our cohort is being shaken to the foundation. These incidents show that those achievements may never come to be without extreme caution. Do not assuage their fears in the meeting by making such confident declarations of imminent success, because confidence is in increasingly short supply these days.¡±

    Cordia bit her lip and tried not to let her worry shine through. Franzheim was feistier than usual, and she was right in her assessment that promises of success were not worth the breath used to speak them. The language they wanted to hear was the language of practicalities and apology.

    Franzheim pushed on with her own ultimatum, ¡°I want to know here and now ¨C do you intend to inform them of the leak Thersyn caused?¡±

    ¡°Do you mean to take action if I do not?¡±

    ¡°No, this is merely a way to measure your intent. I will keep my silence if you do not mean to share the news.¡±

    It was not much of a question to Rentree. If Maria was willing to leak these damaging letters to the other members, then there was no benefit in passing it off as a one-off event. Thersyn was responsible ¨C so she had to take the chance while it was pertinent and point the finger at him before they started to worry.

    She reversed her prior statement, ¡°I want this meeting to be a ¡®reset¡¯ for our working relationship. I will tell them what Thersyn did, and we will decide on how to proceed from there.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡±

    With that, their one-on-one chat was over. Rentree kept her cool but quickly turned into a furious bluster once she was out of the room. Cordia remained silent and watched from a safe distance.

    ¡°Who does that bitch think she is? These damnable Northerners, always looking down on us from their high horses!¡±

    It was this kind of talk that put their relationship on thin ice in the first place, but such a clear lesson was not going to be internalised within the month. These prejudiced opinions were formed over four decades, and they would not be deprogrammed after getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar. That would require Duchess Rentree to accept that her prior position was mistaken.

    ¡°Lady Rentree, would you like for me to prepare an alternative plan should the group not come to an agreement?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Without their assistance, our hopes of restoring the royal family will be dead in the water. There is no alternative left for us.¡±

    Cordia could think of a few.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind, my Lady.¡±

 Chapter 76

    The time had come for Rentree¡¯s meeting to take place at the Franzheim estate.

    Beside Duchess Rentree and Carides Franzheim, a laundry list of notable people from above the middle counties were in attendance for what was supposedly a meet and greet slash business planning session. The truth was that every person in attendance was a participant in a criminal scheme to undermine Walser¡¯s parliament and reinstate King van Walser to the throne.

    Of course, this meeting of minds was not publicized anywhere. Not only were many of them conscious about being discovered, but the security considerations that would be needed for so many influential people were already complex enough. Cordia and Marco had brought two dozen guards into the estate to watch every angle of entry.

    ¡°Are you certain that they won¡¯t be able to get into the building?¡± Rentree asked.

    Cordia nodded, ¡°I¡¯ve personally seen to it that there is not a single gap in the exterior screen. I have four men positioned on each side of the property in an unconventional location, and men posted on each entryway into the bottom floor. Finally ¨C I and the rest will be personally patrolling the corridors outside of the meeting room.¡±

    ¡°And the assassin?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s been a profound disappointment, but he is present and accounted for. At worst, he can serve as a good meat shield to protect the rest of us.¡±

    ¡°I hope that you¡¯re right. What does Franzheim think now that she knows you¡¯ve been working for me since the start?¡±

    ¡°She claims that she suspected as much already ¨C though I believe that she¡¯s attempting to appear savvier than she really is. She doesn¡¯t want to show a weak hand before the meeting begins.¡±

    ¡°And the others? What¡¯s the temperature?¡±

    Cordia shook her head, ¡°They are not feeling optimistic about our plan. The Thersyn situation has caused many of them to think again about supporting us.¡±

    Rentree scowled, ¡°I should have never invited that moron. Not only was he a Scuncath, but he didn¡¯t burn his letters! The one thing I expect everyone to do without question.¡±

    Cordia withheld her true opinion about Thersyn and his selection. Rentree should have known better than to trust a gossip merchant like him. Cordia was convinced that once the plan was executed he¡¯d use those letters to blackmail them or to publish embarrassing information into his newspapers. He was a shock jockey first and a monarchist second.

    But Cordia was not the one making the decisions, and she had to admit that controlling the media landscape would be essential to cementing support for their restoration efforts. The newspapers had increasingly emerged as kingmakers for politicians across the nation, who were now catching on to the power they wielded in shaping public opinion.

    ¡°My Lady ¨C it may be troublesome to convince them now.¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Rentree snapped, ¡°But we can hardly afford to sit here twiddling our thumbs with such an existential threat to our efforts. I will put forth my best and most well-meaning intentions to them, and we shall see where the dice fall.¡±

    They powdered out of the guest room and into the main artery that ran through the house''s third floor. Carides Franzheim was a second-rate member of the family, but there was nothing second-rate about her personal residence. It would be easy to mistake it for the main family home.

    Aside from the extra security, there were many attendants and servants who came with the other guests. All of them were carefully vetted, with a specific restriction for staff who¡¯d been on the payroll for longer than three years. Erecting such barriers was an easy and effective way to prevent bad actors from sneaking into the premises. Every guest room was now occupied, though many of them would not be staying overnight.

    This was all about business.

    They were expecting to go home convinced, or disillusioned with Rentree¡¯s plan, with little in the way of ambiguity. Rentree was one of the first to enter the chamber in which the meeting was due to occur, not wanting them to have the chance to discuss their positions before she got the first word. Allowing uncertainty to ferment between them would make her job harder.

    Franzheim shot her a glare that bordered on malicious as she entered. She hadn¡¯t directly spoken of some of the insulting language which Rentree used in her letters to the others, but it was obvious to Cordia that she was rightly upset about it. For all of the Duchess¡¯ gesticulating about being equal partners, she treated many of them with open disdain.

    But Franzheim was not the sort of person to air that kind of grievance in a public setting. She decided that discretion was the best approach. Nothing productive would come from challenging Rentree directly on her statements, Rentree already knew full well that Franzheim was angry with her.

    The tension in the room increased progressively with the arrival of each reformist; businessman Mark Wolfe, socialite Jane Gladys, nobleman Frank Durmarch, and industrialist Mer Cobb. They were the key targets that Rentree was trying to sway, who were both essential to the plan and the closest to splitting from the group. They silently drifted through to their seats like family members attending the gravest of wakes.

    Cordia stood at the door and waited for Franzheim to make her opening statement.

    ¡°I have to thank all of you for coming here today under these less-than-ideal circumstances. We are rapidly approaching an important juncture for the restoration of the monarchy, with the legislative elections on the horizon and a strong republican coalition forming ¨C it is now more important than ever for us to take action.¡±

    There was polite applause to signal the beginning of the meeting, but the looks of concern being sent her way were not going to be banished so easily with a few reaffirming words. Rentree was forced to do something she very rarely did, show repentance to others.

    ¡°There is one major topic that we cannot ignore now that we are here in person. Thersyn Bradley has been credibly accused of murder after firemen discovered a body in the ruins of his home. I do not know if the rumours of his Scuncath affiliation are true ¨C but he is no longer a part of our number regardless.¡±

    She turned to Franzheim.

    ¡°Unfortunately, he did not heed the instructions given to him when he volunteered. Thersyn Bradley, aside from the offences making headlines right now, was also incorrectly retaining the correspondence he received from I, Lady Franzheim, and several more of you.¡±

    There was a murmur of discontent from the table.

    ¡°I can only offer my apologies for this oversight. Despite my attempts to stress the importance of cooperation with our security policy, he saw fit to defy those standards and collect them for an unknown purpose.¡±

    Franzheim gave her a glare that made it clear that it wasn¡¯t enough.

    ¡°And... additionally, we believe that someone, perhaps responsible for the arson attack on his house, got their hands on those very same letters.¡±

    That murmur of discontent exploded into a torrent of disbelieving outrage. Rentree kept her silence as the other members roared in protest about the potential of someone being able to expose them to the police. It took five minutes for the rancour to quiet down and allow her to speak once more.

    ¡°Lady Franzheim has received an anonymous letter outlining their demands. They intend to stop our scheme before it can see its resolution by peeling away individual members.¡±

    Mark Wolfe raised his hand.

    ¡°Yes, Mister Wolfe?¡±

    He spoke gruffly and curtly, ¡°What sort of threat does this pose? Are we in significant danger of being investigated?¡±

    Rentree tried to talk around it, ¡°Given that the culprit sent an anonymous letter to Lady Franzheim ¨C I have reason to believe that they presently have no intention of turning over the letters to the authorities. I¡¯ve made extra preparations within the investigative division just in case. If we can maintain our present posture and complete our task, they will have bigger matters to attend to than sniffing around our affairs.¡±

    He was not convinced, ¡°You say that ¨C yet we¡¯ve no guarantee that you¡¯ll succeed in restoring the Van Walser family to their rightful place. What say you to the idea we back away and bide our time?¡±

    He wasn¡¯t speaking literally, he was hoping for an effective pitch from Rentree about their future prospects. Rentree was worried about this. She couldn¡¯t see the future. If they weren¡¯t willing to risk their own liberty for the sake of saving Walser, then why did they join the movement in the first place? It was a craven type of politics.

    Jane Gladys arrived to save her bacon, ¡°We do not have time to bide, Mister Wolfe. The upcoming election will determine the course of the nation. If the Republicans win an outright majority, further roadblocks will be placed to prevent us from making the needed changes. It may be the last gasp of the restorative dream.¡±

    Wolfe crossed his arms, ¡°Yet if we are all arrested and thrown into a cell, they¡¯ll throw away the key and then it¡¯ll really be all over. We¡¯re the vanguard. Without us ¨C there is no realistic prospect of a return to tradition happening. They bribe the workers with promises of a fairer nation while weakening us on every front. We cannot permit them to fracture us in this manner.¡±

    ¡°That is precisely why we must band together now,¡± Rentree declared, leaping on the chance to exploit his own words, ¡°This interloper intends to do just that. You are all essential participants, without you, there will be no restoration.¡±

    It was a bold gambit. Rentree was giving them a destructive level of leverage over her. They could squeeze her for all of the concessions they desired, knowing that even one stepping back could spell doom for the whole operation. The room fell into silence as each attendee considered their own position. How much were they willing to risk to make the dream come alive?

    Wolfe spoke and broke the silence, ¡°I want to believe in what you¡¯re offering us, I really do ¨C but this leak needs to be plugged immediately. I don¡¯t trust the police as far as I can throw them. Parliament can lean on them to make sure we never see the sun again.¡±

    Jane was next, ¡°And we must collectively agree to revise our communication policy. We cannot afford to have another Bradley situation in a few months¡¯ time.¡±

    Sensing that she was starting to win, Rentree pushed the issue further, ¡°I agree with both of you. Cordia and her contractors already have a good idea of who is responsible. I trust you appreciate my keeping their identity a secret, given the sensitivity of this meeting.¡±

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    That was going to cause some friction, though none of the attendees had time to think about it.

    ¡°You won¡¯t have to worry about that.¡±

    All eyes turned to the double doors at the other end of the chamber, which swung open to reveal a teenage girl flanked by mask-wearing strangers. The doors were quickly forced shut, with both of her companions dragging bookshelves and furniture to block the exit.

    ¡°Maria Walston-Carter?¡± Wolfe gasped.

    ¡°Oh please, spare me. It¡¯s hardly much of a surprise given that you lot tried to kill my Uncle a few days ago.¡±

    Cordia reached down to grab her gun but Rentree¡¯s hand lashed out to stop her. She shook her head. No shooting the girl, not yet. Cordia silently broiled at her decision to stay in the room for a few moments before leaving to patrol. Silence reigned as Maria made certain that nobody would be able to get into the room from behind them. Once she was happy, she held out her hands as if to greet her captive audience.

    ¡°Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It¡¯s a pleasure to see all of you gathered here. It makes life much easier. I assume that most of you already know who I am, and why I¡¯m here.¡±

    Jane Gladys played ignorant, ¡°Lady Walston-Carter, what a surprise to see you here, but I¡¯m afraid that we simply have no idea of what you speak of.¡±

    Maria¡¯s face fell, ¡°Is that so? I do seem to recall the good lady standing behind Duchess Rentree was responsible for the attempt on my Uncle¡¯s life. And are you not the group who contacted Thersyn Bradley before his unfortunate accident? Cease your foolish games ¨C Miss Gladys, it unbecoming to spread such wanton lies.¡±

    Gladys sputtered in outrage but was cut off as Maria raised her voice.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to see you all make an important decision. This scheme of yours ends here and now.¡±

    Rentree stood up, ¡°And how do you suppose you¡¯ll do that? You¡¯re nothing more than a meddlesome teenager! Not only that, but you¡¯ve walked blindly into the lion¡¯s den in the process. This estate is surrounded on all sides by armed guards, do you honestly believe that you¡¯ll be able to escape.¡±

    ¡°Is that a threat?¡± Maria said gravely.

    ¡°Take it as you will.¡±

    ¡°If you mean to compete with me in the field of making threats, you will lose. Allow me to demonstrate.¡±

    Cordia reached for her holster and drew her pistol in response, but Maria didn¡¯t even flinch as she pointed it in her direction. She tutted and wagged her finger, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you. If I don¡¯t return from this outing, a friend of mine will ensure that all of these incriminating letters find their way into the appropriate hands.¡±

    As if to labour her point, she retrieved a stack of them from inside her coat and tossed them onto the table - scattering them in several directions. Even a momentary glance made it obvious that these were the real deal. By chance, some of the original senders were confronted with their very own writing.

    ¡°A stranger making such accusations would be faced with incredulity from the police, but what if Maria Walston-Carter were to do it? Combine that with my supposed disappearance, and you have a recipe for disaster. My Father won¡¯t stand for it.¡±

    Wolfe harrumphed, ¡°If your Father is so concerned, then why is he not here?¡±

    ¡°I implore you to focus on what¡¯s in front of you,¡± Maria quipped back, ¡°Does it matter whose mouth this ultimatum comes from? You are now presented with a simple choice. You can follow this pied-piper down a path of madness and have your secrets exposed, or you can quit while you¡¯re ahead and live a life of freedom.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t trust you to keep your word,¡± Wolfe argued.

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Rentree echoed, ¡°If we cease, as you demand, then what is preventing you from simply releasing these letters anyway? It¡¯s a poisoned chalice. Surely none of us would be foolish enough to fall for a gambit like that.¡±

    ¡°Who is to say that your plan will result in legal immunity?¡± Maria laughed, ¡°Should you succeed and reinstate the royal family to their prior status, it will cause significant instability. They might just decide to make an example out of you. There¡¯s no benefit to keeping troublemakers around after all.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense!¡±

    ¡°I can concoct imaginary scenarios just as easily as you can,¡± Maria stated, ¡°There are no more matters to debate. You must all make your choice. Will you protect yourselves, or will you risk everything to restore the Van Walser family?¡±

    The reformists were not expecting this to happen. It defied rational thought that such a young girl was the one responsible for causing Rentree so many sleepless nights. She even had the gall to make demands of them.

    Rentree slammed her hands onto the table, ¡°You cretinous cur. Were you the one who took the letters from Thersyn¡¯s home?¡±

    ¡°Guilty as charged,¡± she shrugged, ¡°The buffoon had an entire chest stuffed to the brim with them. The selection you see now is merely a handful to demonstrate. There are so, so many more.¡±

    The attendees were turned into statues as the threat became clear. Thersyn had screwed them over in more ways than they initially expected, and Rentree already admitted to the letters being legitimate, one of them being used to blackmail Franzheim.

    Cordia stepped in to try and scare her away, ¡°I¡¯d rather kill you and see the end of it, here and now.¡±

    ¡°Kill me? You¡¯ll do nothing of the sort. A third-rate amateur like you is no challenge at all. You failed to stop me from getting into the manor, and you¡¯ll fail to stop me from leaving in much the same way.¡±

    ¡°Where did your confidence go? Are you implying that you¡¯ll flee should your plan fail?¡±

    Maria remained impassive, ¡°There¡¯s no point in killing the likes of you.¡±

    A loud clattering rang out through the barricaded door as the men on the other side attempted to break through. They¡¯d figured that something odd was going on, presumably at the point where they found the unconscious body of one of the watchmen.

    ¡°This discussion is pointless. Die.¡±

    Before Cordia could pull the trigger - Maria snapped her fingers. She pulled on the trigger, but a loud click replaced the sound of the bullet firing. It happened so quickly and subtly that Cordia never would have perceived it, but several of the delicate components in her weapon turned to dust in an instant. It was useless.

    Maria burst into unsettling laughter, ¡°Ohohohoho! Oh my, you haven¡¯t been taking very good care of that weapon, have you? That¡¯s the problem with Erwin-Canon firearms ¨C they have very poor reliability.¡±

    Infuriated, Cordia desperately pulled on the slide and pulled the trigger, but she wasn¡¯t even able to release the magazine using the designated switch anymore. Every essential component was ruined, incapable of operating normally now that key elements were removed from the equation by Maria¡¯s nihility magic.

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to make a fool of me?¡± she roared, ¡°I was polishing my craft while you were still an unborn child!¡±

    Cordia tossed the broken gun aside and charged across the room as the other plotters ducked out of the way. She was so dead-set on tackling Maria and throttling the life out of her that she failed to recall the two others who¡¯d broken into the meeting with her. The taller of the two twisted around her mid-charge and hooked one of her arms around his own.

    Maria smirked with a devilish grin and stepped forth as her momentum continued, throwing a jab that crashed across the bridge of her nose like a ball hammer. Cordia flipped end over end and crumpled to the floor while blood gushed from the blunt-force injury.

    The victors did not have any time to gloat.

    ¡°All of you ¨C make a choice. The moment that door is opened, you¡¯ll have missed your opportunity.¡±

    Perhaps it was the shock of seeing a thirteen-year-old girl clock an experienced fixer like a pro boxer, or perhaps they¡¯d given enough thought to the letters that now threatened their freedom and status, but this was the final straw - the one that broke the camel¡¯s back.

    Wolfe shook his head, ¡°Bloody hell. Rentree ¨C you¡¯ve completely lost control of this!¡±

    Jane Gladys was the second to back away, ¡°You may call her nothing more than a young girl, but it speaks to your immense incompetence that she is in this position in the first place!¡±

    With two of the biggest backers disavowing their involvement, the rest of the dominoes were quick to fall. One by one they stepped away from the table and averted their eyes from Rentree¡¯s increasingly desperate pleas for rationality. Not one of the eleven people who entered the chamber was now willing to back her.

    Maria wiped off her bloodied knuckle with a handkerchief, ¡°A wise choice.¡±

    Rentree¡¯s voice cracked with strain, ¡°You... You¡¯re all going to abandon me because of this idiotic bluff? From a girl young enough to be your daughter? She¡¯s nothing! We¡¯re fighting for the future of this nation ¨C and this is all it takes for you to bury your heads in the sand and withdraw your support? You said you were willing to do anything, sacrifice everything!¡±

    Wolfe disagreed, ¡°I never made any promises like that, Duchess. This has turned into a damned circus. Do you honestly expect to see this plan through with things as they are?¡±

    Wolfe¡¯s words were echoed in the minds of every collaborator present. Rentree had lost control of the situation from the moment that Thersyn was arrested, and now they were being given more evidence to support their hesitation. A singular girl, no older than fourteen, was responsible for thwarting her present plans? How could they hope to deal with a more pressing situation or capable foe?

    The Duchess was not going to give in so easily.

    ¡°I can still do what is needed, even if the rest of you have lost your good senses! All you are doing is writing a dark page into the history books, a display of craven self-interest beyond any other! The royal family will return to their rightful place, but we will be worse off for your choices!¡±

    ¡°Prattle, you just said that none of your plans will happen without us!¡±

    Maria smiled, choosing to remain quiet at the foot of the table instead of intervening. Now that they were in an argumentative mood, the content of their statements was no longer the number one concern. They would not stand by and allow Rentree to insult them openly.

    ¡°You clearly think so little of us that you think we¡¯ll accept anything you say,¡± Carides objected, ¡°I was kind enough to forgive the insults you included in your letters to Bradley, but now I see that this is more than simple theatre. You demand our fealty and insist that our contributions are essential, yet your lack of respect means that all of us are now in danger of being arrested!¡±

    Maria had won.

    Carides was trying to keep her cool, but Rentree¡¯s outburst spelt doom for the plot. It was an illustrative moment, one that showed her as an impulsive and domineering presence who didn¡¯t care for what happened to her underlings and tools. She didn¡¯t care what happened to them, and that meant they were at a persistent risk of being thrown under the wheels to get the outcome she wanted.

    Rentree only had one card left to play. She reached into the sleeve of her dress and drew a miniature pistol that was hidden inside. Such brutish methods were normally beyond her ¨C reserved for the poorer folks she employed, but Maria left her with no choice.

    ¡°If you won¡¯t work with us, then you are merely a collection of loose threads, weeds to be plucked!¡±

    Maria scoffed, ¡°Do you expect us to be scared of that thing? A sling and a rock are more likely to kill you than that.¡±

    ¡°You meddlesome brat. We only want to do what¡¯s best for Walser! Why do you care? I expected better from the Walston-Carter family!¡±

    Maria¡¯s eyes sharpened like daggers, and Rentree briefly saw the malice that hid beneath the cover. She suddenly felt very small, and very much out of her depth. At that moment she felt that her previous claim was true. The gun she held between quaking fingers would do no damage at all.

    ¡°You tried to murder my Uncle. That is the long and short of my interest in this issue. I care not for what happens to you or the royal family. It is merely a coincidence that I find myself vouching for the republic. Now that the landscape is made clear to you, I beg my leave.¡±

    ¡°Leave? They¡¯re going to get through that door at any second.¡±

    ¡°Yes, they are.¡±

    The doors finally gave way, pushing the bookshelf and drawer over to allow entry. Maria and her masked assistants stepped out of the way before they could land on top of them. The taller of the two summoned a ball of light using his magic, throwing it up into the air and causing it to explode. Ears and eyes were blinded ¨C with only the dull sounds of bodies hitting the floor to ground them in reality.

    When Rentree and the reformists regained their senses, a pile of unconscious guards were left in their wake, with their weapons stolen or unloaded.

    ¡°Cordia, Cordia!¡±

    Rentree hurried over and tried to shake the unconscious fixer awake.

    ¡°They¡¯re getting away!¡±

    Cordia¡¯s eyes opened once more. She clenched her teeth and pinched her bleeding nose with a groan.

    ¡°I hear you. I¡¯m awake.¡±

    Her hand reached out and took the miniature pistol from her possession. A pathetic weapon that would lose its effectiveness at medium range. Why was the Duchess keeping this on her person?

    ¡°I need you to kill that girl. Our entire plan depends on it!¡±

    Cordia was not in a hurry to follow her orders. There was a second where she stared at the floor and followed Rentree back towards the head of the table. The Duchess spun on her heel and screamed at the top of her lungs.

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you doing anything?¡±

    ¡°I always hated you.¡±

    The pop of the gun left the spectators confused about the course of events. Rentree staggered back and clutched the bleeding wound that rested above her heart. Cordia had held it up to her chest and fired, so quickly that it was almost instinctual.

    ¡°Y-You... why?¡±

    ¡°If you want something done properly, do it yourself, and besides ¨C I still have this.¡±

    Cordia pulled out the watch and held it in the air.

    ¡°I press the button and this entire farce never happened, and it won¡¯t happen again. Call it a waste, but I couldn¡¯t pass on the opportunity to see that dumbfounded look on your face before I leave. Call it stress relief if you must.¡±

    Rentree gasped out panicked breaths in an attempt to have the last word, but she was already suffering from shock. The Duchess collapsed back against the wall and fell unconscious as the flow of blood around her body was compromised by the damage done to her heart.

    ¡°The rest of you, stay here and shut your mouths. We¡¯ll have a friendly talk later about what just happened.¡± Before travelling back, Cordia was going to see how things developed. This attempt may ultimately end in failure, but there was always her secret second chance waiting in the wings.

    Killing Rentree was already a cathartic feeling ¨C killing Maria twice was going to be even better.

 Chapter 77

    The meeting went well, all things considered.

    It was very similar to the plan that Caius originally offered, with some minor changes to make things safer for us. Instead of ¡®busting through the skylight¡¯ of the meeting room itself and potentially being gunned down in a hail of bullets, we entered through another chamber that was off the beaten path. This second entryway also sported windows that could be opened using a latch rather than shattered with magic or force.

    Caius had hoped to prepare an appropriately flamboyant speech and display of magical power to scare them stiff too ¨C but I put the kibosh to that post haste. Not only were we short on time, but we also couldn¡¯t predict how the attendees would react to the information we¡¯d stolen.

    He looked like a sad puppy when I told him that.

    I resisted his quivering bottom lip and stood firm. We weren¡¯t going to execute any plan like this unless I was absolutely certain that were we going to be safe while doing so. Samantha and Caius were not willing, or capable, of gunning down an army of private guards. Shock and awe was the phrase of the day. Get in, shock them with our blackmail, awe them with how easy it was, and then get the hell out.

    There was no guarantee that they¡¯d follow through with dismantling the plot, but then I could simply release the documents. And if that failed ¨C I¡¯d have to resort to my usual violent measures. I was taking a chance on Samantha¡¯s perspective with this. It would have been so, so easy for me to kill everyone in that room and be one hundred percent certain that it was done with.

    With that in mind, it was difficult to ignore the gunshot that travelled through the building after we¡¯d already escaped and started the rest of our plan. We came to a brief stop halfway to our next destination, craning our heads back to try and see where it came from.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Samantha murmured, sticking close to me as we moved towards our exfiltration route.

    ¡°A gunshot, but Goddess knows who shot who.¡±

    ¡°Why are they shooting at each other?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. We¡¯ve put a lot of pressure on this organisation. Someone must have felt that it was time to make some major changes.¡±

    We¡¯d broken free from the guard¡¯s encirclement and moved to the back of the building where a service lift was located. Normally used to transport food and objects from different floors, it was also conveniently large enough to fit a person through the metallic chute. I went first, ducking my head under the top and holding out my hands and legs to touch each side. I gently released the pressure and slid down until I reached the bottom.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Samantha asked.

    ¡°I am fine. It¡¯s your turn.¡±

    Samantha summoned her courage and followed me, imitating my stance and slowly, painfully sliding her way down until she hit the bottom. I kept a close eye on her, ready to act in case she fell so that I could catch her. Every detail was meticulously planned in advance, including this escape route that utilised the service lift to confuse our pursuers. It was the only feasible way to escape without having to kill someone.

    Judging from the gunshot ¨C we may have failed to avoid causalities by doing this. If I had to bet on who was responsible, it was either Cordia or Marco, who were both lurking in the manor to try and catch us. Cordia always struck me as an unstable presence, but I didn¡¯t know enough about Marco to accuse him of taking a cheap shot at one of his employers.

    Caius landed with a thud and a grunt as his knees quaked under the strain.

    ¡°I wish I was your age again,¡± he complained.

    From the back corridor, we could move freely towards the rear rooms of the building. Since they were far removed from the stairs that led to where the meeting room was, few guards were patrolling the area when we snuck inside. We entered from the ceiling before ¨C and now we were going to leave by utilising the lovely wine cellar that was helpfully built into the manor.

    It was too obvious an entry, but now that everyone was scrambling to catch up with us the guards who were meant to be watching the doors were absent. The scent of wine and spirits hung heavy in the air. It was a mercifully short walk to the steps that led into a small exterior building in the garden.

    Just as planned, we were in the clear. At least I thought we were. The discord occurring upstairs was enough to pull away the interior guards, but the external ones were unlikely to have moved because of the commotion. They were given strict orders to stay in place and not move.

    Unluckily for the guard we knocked out to get inside, we also came prepared with a length of rope and a towel to gag him with. He was gently thrown into the nearest bush and left to rot while we entered the building and did our thing. From there it was a simple matter of climbing onto the roof and descending through one of the glass skylights using Caius¡¯ climbing gear.

    All in all ¨C it was a hell of a lot of effort just to air their dirty laundry.

    ¡°I think we might get away with this!¡± Samantha giggled from under her mask.

    We dashed through the garden and towards the side entrance that was used by the gardeners to maintain the surrounding land. Our KO¡¯d friend was still where we left him, but there was someone else waiting for us by the pond.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that I have to stop you there, Miss Walston-Carter.¡±

    I skidded to a halt as Marco drew his gun and held us up. Samantha and Caius were quick to step out of the way and leave only me in the firing line. I¡¯d have to thank them for the vote of confidence later.

    ¡°Marco. Your reputation precedes you.¡±

    His face twisted ¨C wondering if he¡¯d ever told us his name before. His job demanded a certain level of confidentiality, meaning that his name was only spoken between those who intended to procure his services and buy a hit.

    ¡°You¡¯re an interesting girl, but I have to fault you for getting yourself involved in this kind of business. This isn¡¯t a place for the likes of you to play around as you please.¡±

    I glared, ¡°Who said I was here to entertain myself? You¡¯ve already seen first-hand what I¡¯m capable of. I¡¯d suggest that you go back to the house and make sure that Cordia hasn¡¯t just shot your employer dead.¡±

    His reaction to me changed once I started to get frustrated with him. His eyes lit up in scant recognition like he¡¯d finally connected the dots between two differing thoughts. I decided to try my luck and pick his brain for an answer, not expecting to get anything but a bullet through the head as a response.

    ¡°A good try, but I¡¯m afraid I cannot allow you to leave. I¡¯ll try to give you a better challenge than last time. That was a shameful display.¡±

    ¡°You said I reminded you of someone.¡±

    He humoured me, however briefly; ¡°You do. The way you fight, the way you scheme ¨C you remind me very much of that person. But if you¡¯re looking for answers as to who that person is, I¡¯m afraid I do not have them. Her true identity is a mystery to me.¡±

    ¡°Another assassin, then?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but she¡¯s an enigma. Doesn¡¯t have family, or even a name. Assassins keep their private lives private, but even by that standard, she¡¯s unusual. You¡¯d think that she would let a detail slip eventually.¡±

    We must have looked similar at a glance too. He¡¯d mistaken me for this woman during our first encounter. Marco cocked the hammer on his gun.

    ¡°Enough talk. I was asked to put an end to you, girl. No hard feelings ¨C but I have to bury you if I want to get paid.¡±

    I was already suffering under the weight of disabling Cordia¡¯s weapon earlier, but there was a benefit to hitting the books and learning the tricks myself. The static location of the object I was targeting made the spell more efficient ¨C as I destroyed the bullet fired at me using brute force. I blanketed the entire area with high-energy magic through reaction and got lucky enough to dismantle it in mid-air.

    Now that I was in control I could cast the spell more often. Three times in total was as far as I could go. Using my second get-out-of-jail-free card here seemed like a wise move. Marco¡¯s choice of weapon was less intricate than Cordia¡¯s, but there were still key components on the inside that would jam it up if broken or damaged. I focused in on them and summoned a small field of high-energy particles. Marco had no idea what was happening.

    He got a rude awakening when he pulled the trigger. The gun clicked ¨C but no bullet was fired. His face fell. He tried again much in the same way that Cordia did. He pulled the cylinder aside and watched the entire thing fall to pieces in his hands. The pins, the screws, and the rod that held it in were all destroyed and turned into metal dust. The still-loaded cylinder fell to the floor.

    ¡°Oh, I get it,¡± Marco chuckled, ¡°You did something to my gun. That¡¯s how you got out of there in one piece.¡±

    ¡°How can you be so sure?¡±

    ¡°Cordia wouldn¡¯t let her gun jam or break. She¡¯s the most detail-orientated woman I¡¯ve ever worked with. When we were talking contracts, she spent the entire time disassembling that gun and cleaning it. This gun was brand new too, fresh off the shelf.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°Your observational skills are impressive, but I fail to see what makes you so confident in the face of this. Your men are not present and your weapon is in tatters. I say you should step aside and fold.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the meaning of the word quit, girlie.¡±

    ¡°Really? You¡¯ve already fled once, what¡¯s a second time between friends?¡±

    Marco dropped his weapon and put up his dukes for a fistfight. Despite being the one to initiate a melee contest, he was not expecting me to respond in kind by putting my fists up.

    ¡°You asked for it!¡±

    Marco closed in on me and threw a trio of jabs in my direction. I could tell right away that he was no normal pugilist. This guy was a boxer ¨C his footwork and power were too good to be a pure amateur. Given that he had a foot and a half on me, longer reach, and much bigger muscles, it would have been foolish to take him on in a straight battle.

    ¡°Stop running away!¡±

    Marco opened the door while getting flustered about my evasive tactics. I lifted my leg up into the air and kicked him in the lower midsection from the left side. He exhaled some of the breath from his lungs and tried to grab my stray limb before it returned, but he was too slow.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Reaching for my gun would put an end to this fast, but I couldn¡¯t do that with him rushing me down like this. He¡¯d happily take that opportunity to pummel my head into the dirt.

    Marco¡¯s hands moved faster than I could react. He reached out and took a previously unseen metal trowel from the ground, waving it like a sharpened weapon. With enough force, it could easily penetrate skin and break bones. He charged at me again with wild swings, trying to catch me on the back foot. Caius and Samantha were paralyzed in place ¨C they couldn¡¯t decide whether to make a break for it or stay and help me.

    ¡°You know, you aren¡¯t going to get paid if Cordia iced your boss,¡± I snuck out between attacks.

    ¡°Why the hell would she do that? And for your information ¨C I always get paid in advance!¡±

    Marco stepped too deep, allowing me to press down on his forearm and trap the trowel behind my back. I thrust my head forward and cracked down against the bridge of his nose with my forehead. He wrenched the makeshift weapon free and staggered back with a fresh trail of blood leaking down onto his top lip.

    ¡°That¡¯s dirty, not ladylike at all.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear critiques from a man wielding a crude weapon like that against a beautiful young lady.¡±

    ¡°And so modest too.¡±

    He understood what game I was trying to play here. I was the only one who could effectively fight him, that was why the ¡®other two¡¯ were hanging back and just watching. He turned to face Samantha, who¡¯d accidentally backed herself up to the edge of the garden pond. I could see the gears turning in his head, but there was no time for me to close in on him and get in the way.

    He brought the trowel down into a front-facing position and charged while clutching it close to his stomach. This was an all-or-nothing attack, the type that you would use to perforate an unarmed opponent with sheer force. It was extremely deadly. Even I flipped a coin when taking people on while they were doing this.

    Luckily for Samantha ¨C I¡¯d already drilled her on this exact scenario.

    Samantha¡¯s mind reacted on instinct. All of the disparate lessons I¡¯d given her on how to protect herself from physical attacks suddenly came together under duress. She reached out to meet him and deftly avoided the sharp edge of the trowel, grabbed the front of his suit, and twisted while tucking her body beneath his. With an almighty heave, she delivered a picture-perfect hip throw.

    The second I saw his feet leave the ground, I knew he was about to go flying. Samantha released him and followed through. Marco went sailing through the air and landed directly in the middle of the pond, coming down with a loud splash. Beneath the foam and froth, I could see him struggling to see with all of the algae clinging to his face.

    Samantha covered her mouth in shock as if she wasn¡¯t the one who just dumped him into there.

    ¡°That was perfect,¡± I quipped.

    ¡°Goddess above, I didn¡¯t even mean to do that!¡±

    ¡°Yes, you did,¡± I fired back, ¡°What do you think I¡¯ve been training you for? This is the ideal situation to defend yourself using a lovely throw like that.¡±

    ¡°Lovely throw?¡± Samantha lurched, noting my strange turn of phrase.

    ¡°Yes, yes ¨C it was a ¡®lovely¡¯ throw. Now can we please leave before more of them show up?¡± Caius urged.

    It was too late for that. Marco had kept us occupied for long enough that some of his men were already powdering their way down the hill at the top of the garden to try and intercept us. I pulled Samantha aside and concealed her behind a nearby stone wall as they opened fire to try and pin us down.

    ¡°We can¡¯t get away with them chasing us,¡± I grunted.

    ¡°I thought you said you wanted to try this without killing anyone!¡±

    ¡°Try. I said try! If I have to, I¡¯ll pull my gun.¡±

    They were already closing in on top of us. I reached out and grabbed a spade that was leaning against the wall next to me, waiting until the ideal moment to pop out and clobber one of them around the head with the blunt end. He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

    ¡°See? Just a concussion!¡±

    Another goon leapt through the exit we were hoping to use with a gun in hand. I grabbed Samantha¡¯s collar and dragged her towards a nearby hedgerow before he could gun us down.

    ¡°You two need to get out of here. I¡¯ll try to distract them.¡±

    ¡°What about Cordia?¡± Samantha asked, ¡°She¡¯s not going to let you go.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t even need to kill her. She¡¯s going to use Roderro¡¯s watch and slip away. She wouldn¡¯t do that without a good reason. She wanted to have a second chance.¡±

    I was talking about a future event in the past tense...

    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no time to explain that now! Get out of here while you still have the chance.¡±

    Caius flashed the interceptor using his magic, allowing me to run over and knock him out too. I grabbed his gun and unloaded the magazine before someone else could use it against me. Caius tugged on Samantha¡¯s shoulder. With great hesitation she finally turned and made a break for the open gateway, disappearing behind the wall and onwards to our exfiltration.

    Cordia was making a mad dash down the hill to join the party. Without Samantha or Caius around to protect, I could let loose and cause as much trouble as possible. Marco was only just struggling his way out of the pond when she finally arrived on the scene. She was so loud that even I could hear her from my hiding spot.

    ¡°Marco! Where the hell is that girl now?¡±

    Marco was in no mood to have her barking orders into his ear after that humiliation. He was cold, drenched to the bone, and got a mouth full of boggy pond water for trying to take Samantha on with the now-lost trowel. He slicked his hair back out of his eyes and grunted.

    ¡°She¡¯s hiding in the hedge maze over there. I don¡¯t think she has a gun.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be a damn fool to assume that. Get everyone to surround her.¡±

    Marco sighed and took a deep breath, ¡°Pull it in! She¡¯s over here!¡±

    Those who were not guarding the guests in the house responded in kind, regrouping around the bottom of the garden and trying to cordon me in. There were gaps I could exploit, but they didn¡¯t know that yet.

    ¡°What about the other two?¡± Cordia demanded.

    ¡°They made a run for it.¡±

    ¡°And you let them go?¡±

    ¡°Let them go? It was one against three!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the most reputed assassin in the county!¡±

    Marco couldn¡¯t make himself look or sound intimidating after getting dumped into a pond, but he wasn¡¯t going to let himself get pushed around by Cordia.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like your attitude. Remember, I¡¯m working for the Duchess ¨C not you.¡±

    Cordia smirked, ¡°Really? She¡¯s lying dead with a bullet through her heart as we speak. You¡¯ll be joining her soon enough if you keep forgetting who¡¯s in charge here.¡±

    Marco was furious; ¡°What do you mean you killed the Duchess? You stupid broad!¡±

    She was dismissive, ¡°You already got paid. What does it matter to you?¡±

    ¡°There was still some cash left to be paid out. She didn¡¯t give me all of it in one go!¡±

    ¡°Whatever. I¡¯ll pay off the rest.¡±

    Marco¡¯s misgivings were deeper than the cash, ¡°Do you know how much heat is going to come down on us now? You just killed one of the most important women in Southern politics! Every damn police officer from here to the Talltrees are going to be investigating! And you don¡¯t have the first idea of how damaging it is to my reputation to have my employer die under mysterious circumstances!¡±

    It was quite a sight, given that the man was still wearing half of the pond flora on his shoulders like a shawl. He looked like a swamp creature, now passionately chewing out one of his co-workers for making life harder.

    Cordia did not appreciate his tone. She grabbed his drenched shirt and wrenched him in close, ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate your tone, Marco. You¡¯re going to help me kill that girl, and I don¡¯t want to hear any more complaints from you!¡±

    Marco slapped her hands away, ¡°I don¡¯t think so. My contract was with the Duchess, not you. Me and my guys? We¡¯re going to stand back and let you handle all of the work.¡±

    ¡°She already paid!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the principle of the matter, not the money. What do you think happens to our reputation when our client dies under ¡®mysterious¡¯ circumstances? Let me tell you ¨C people don¡¯t come crawling out of the woodwork to hire us. You just cost us a lot more than you can afford to pay.¡±

    None of Marco¡¯s men moved to argue. They were all on the same page. No contractor, no work. There was no love lost between those two. Marco wouldn¡¯t trust Cordia for a second when it came to paying his completion bonus. It was probably more than she could afford.

    ¡°She killed some of your men.¡±

    ¡°Maybe she did, but you can¡¯t stand here and try to make this personal now. We don¡¯t play like that. I¡¯m mad as hell but I¡¯m putting my foot down. We come out here expecting some people to fight back, to potentially kill one of us. That¡¯s part of the job. What we don¡¯t expect is for someone to rub out our client before it¡¯s done.¡±

    This sounded like the ominous prologue to a messy breakup. Marco was rightly upset about what Cordia had done. There was no shaking the accusation that they had a part in killing Rentree. Not only was there no guarantee of Cordia paying out the completion bonus they were promised, but she¡¯d also cost them potential jobs down the line. All this because of a stupid, impulsive mistake. She tricked herself into thinking that it didn¡¯t matter.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare.¡±

    Marco was already walking away, ¡°Pack it up! Leave Miss Perfect here to clean up her own mess.¡±

    And just like that ¨C they did as he commanded. Almost all of the guns that were coming for me seconds ago turned tail and wandered away to go back to the house. Cordia was so stunned by this development that she didn¡¯t notice me slipping out and incapacitating one of her own people with a chokehold. She held up her hand and considered trying to shoot him in the back, but she knew that it would lead to her being gunned down in a blaze of not-so-glory.

    Her attention returned to the big problem once she heard the sound of her friend¡¯s unconscious body dropping on the floor. Cordia aimed at me and tried to fire, but for the last time, I snapped my fingers and broke her new weapon from the inside. A loud click was the only response from her trigger pull. I could feel the fatigue pulling down on me like a pair of weights tied to my shoulders.

    ¡°You... you damn brat!¡±

    ¡°Did you know that the last thing a contractor wants is uncertainty? Your little games have cost you dearly. I hope that brief moment of elation was worth it.¡±

    Cordia tried to put on a confident front, ¡°It was, and it¡¯ll be even better when I wring that scrawny neck of yours. I like the idea of killing you and the Duchess twice over. It¡¯s a rare opportunity that no other person can experience.¡±

    ¡°With Roderro¡¯s watch?¡±

    She reached into her pocket and showcased it to me. This was the present-day version of the watch. Adrian already had another in his possession because the time loop had been closed with her death at the tournament.

    ¡°Say, did you happen to overhear any interesting reports about an accidental death a few weeks ago? A woman your age ¨C fell from a rooftop and broke her own neck. A shame, really.¡±

    She scoffed, ¡°As if I have time to listen to the woes of every harlot and parasite who dies on the streets of this city. If I didn¡¯t hear about it ¨C they weren¡¯t important.¡±

    Indeed, she was right about that. Cordia was not important. She was arrogant, power-hungry, controlling and obsessive. She liked to think of herself as the lynchpin holding everyone together when in reality they¡¯d be better off without her. A woman like her dying in an accident would barely be cause for notice by the spies she¡¯d embedded into Walserian society. An obituary in a paper with no name or relatives was all she could muster.

    The police didn¡¯t investigate her death, so her eyes and ears didn¡¯t even know that she¡¯d died at the tennis tournament. All of that insecurity and she didn¡¯t even generate a mention, just an unmarked grave in a local charity yard ¨C where many others were also buried after failing to be claimed.

    Living life with the expectation of being remembered was idiotic. To mould your actions and personality around trying to make that happen was a dark path to tread. The watch was exposing all of her worst avarice. She now believed that her decisions had no impact on the future. She could just go back and do it all again.

    ¡°That cute display in the meeting room only confirmed my belief that these people never had any intention of restoring our rightful leaders. I have the party list right here. All I need to do is use the watch and pick them off one by one. I planted an anchor point ages ago, and I¡¯ve been carefully tracking their movements ever since. There¡¯ll be nowhere for them to run, and you won¡¯t be able to stop me.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°I see. Go ahead then.¡±

    That smile dropped ever so slightly.

    ¡°Really? All of this, and you¡¯re going to stand there and do nothing?¡±

    ¡°I already did something. You just don¡¯t know about it yet.¡±

    ¡°I tire of these word games - Maria. If you think that such vague assertions are enough to deter me, then you clearly underestimate my dedication. But I¡¯m not going to leave until I get the better of you.¡±

    I was pretty sick and tired of this too. I unzipped the side of my skirt and drew the gun I¡¯d been hiding. Cordia¡¯s tune changed quickly. A few moments ago, she warned Marco about this ¨C but she¡¯d gotten so invested in taunting me that I was now within firing range.

    She stumbled back and landed in the grass, ¡°Wait, no! Don¡¯t shoot!¡±

    The sheer expression of dread-drenched panic on her face was a stark contrast to her usual arrogant behaviour. All of that bravado was stripped away in a second. There was nobody here who could reach us and protect her in time. Marco¡¯s men were gone, and her own people were unconscious.

    I had no intention of shooting her though. She was right about that.

    I advanced on her with intent. In that single second, she had to make a choice. She could use the watch and slip back in time, or she could risk dying before she got the chance to see her dream fulfilled. There was no hesitation. She pressed down on the second button and disappeared into thin air.

    There was no grand flash of light, no magic circle, she was cut from reality like an editor would cut the frames of a movie. One millisecond she was there ¨C the second she was not. I continued to aim at the empty spot where she was in disbelief at how sudden it was. She must have been getting an equally sudden rude awakening on the other side.

    All that is, will be. All that will be, is.

    ¡°You should have heeded that warning, Cordia.¡±

    Not that she could hear me in the past.

    Her madness, her belief in the power of the watch ¨C those were the things that would eventually doom her, having not succeeded in even a single of her planned killings. The watch would be recovered from her body and returned to Adrian. I secured the gun back into my holster and headed for the exit before the gunmen woke up. The police would be here eventually to see what happened with the Duchess.

    As for the potential consequences of this endeavour, I had no earthly idea.

 Chapter 78

    There were only a handful of matters left to attend to now that we were back at the manor. The first was Caius and Alice finally bidding us goodbye and leaving the safety of our guest rooms. I was honestly glad to see the back of them. Dancing around the fact they were living at the estate was driving me mad.

    ¡°I take it that Alice has fully recovered?¡±

    Caius smiled, ¡°Indeed she has.¡±

    The young girl was starting to get out of bed and stretch her legs more often. With the full threat of the conspiracy dealt with, and Cordia doomed to die during her own attempts to implement the plan ¨C they were now safe to do what they pleased.

    ¡°Are you planning on leaving the city? You spoke about that once before.¡±

    ¡°Well, that all depended on how much money I was left with by the end of this. I think we should be able to buy a small house out by the coast. I can get a regular job and look after her properly now that I don¡¯t need to worry about medical fees. I hope you don¡¯t miss us.¡±

    ¡°Miss you? I barely know you. I said before that this relationship was purely business. Thank you for your assistance in this matter, and I hope that you stay out of trouble from now on.¡±

    He laughed, ¡°You sound like my Mother. I¡¯ll try.¡±

    We walked down the steps. Caius was carrying a trunk filled with what little possessions they had left and another case filled with the money I¡¯d given him for his cooperation. It was enough to buy a cheap place in a lesser-visited township. Houses weren¡¯t quite the expensive wealth generators that they¡¯d become in the future. Alice was running around the gardens, enjoying her newfound freedom. It was almost enough to melt my craggy old heart.

    ¡°I really ought to be thanking you, Maria. But I realise that I can¡¯t rely on chance or charity in the future. You¡¯re unique, that¡¯s for sure. Goddess knows what would have happened to us if not for you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for-¡±

    My gaze turned cold, ¡°No. Really, don¡¯t mention it. This never happened.¡±

    Caius¡¯ smile turned weary, ¡°Ah, yes. Of course. My lips are sealed.¡±

    He¡¯d already added enough stress to his life by crossing Cordia. He did not want to make matters worse by replacing her with me. This was the first step into living a normal life for him and his sister. It must have wounded his pride somewhat to have it come at the hands of a noble teenager, or perhaps not, he may have valued getting his fair share more than a spiteful hatred of the upper class.

    I wasn¡¯t interested enough to ask.

    Alice eventually noticed our discussion and ran over to see what was going on. We were already winding down, but Alice wanted to have her say too before we said goodbye.

    ¡°Thank you for letting us stay here, Miss Walston-Carter!¡±

    ¡°It was my pleasure, Alice.¡±

    ¡°I hope my brother didn¡¯t cause you too much trouble!¡±

    Caius frowned, ¡°Hey ¨C since when am I the one causing the trouble around here?¡±

    Alice laughed and ran away before he could grab her in retaliation. At least someone was getting enjoyment out of these painstakingly landscaped gardens. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time my Father actually came out here and sat at one of the tables to enjoy the atmosphere.

    ¡°I mean what I said. Thanks for taking a chance on a damn fool like me. Alice is the only family I¡¯ve got left.¡±

    ¡°Then you should act with her in mind. Have you collected your belongings?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You don¡¯t need to offer us your carriage for the trip back.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long walk, and if you intend to catch the train I may as well give the driver something to do. I¡¯m not going back to the academy until early tomorrow morning. He¡¯ll be done long before then.¡±

    Caius sighed, ¡°Alright if you insist ¨C we may as well enjoy one last look at what it¡¯s like living on the other side. Is Samantha not going to say goodbye to Alice?¡±

    ¡°I think she already did. For whatever reason she¡¯s locked herself up in the guest room.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Send her my regards when you see her again.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡±

    Caius hesitated for a moment, before deciding against saying any more and heading down to catch Alice so he could take his leave. I watched them walk down the main avenue to the carriage and climb inside. The driver whipped the reins and set the horses on their way. Knowing my luck, we¡¯d see each other again eventually anyway.

    I was happy to see the end of our arrangement. Them occupying the room wasn¡¯t a problem when most of them went unused even at the best of times, but fretting about them being found out added extra stress that I¡¯d rather not deal with. Now that Caius had served his purpose and secured his own freedom ¨C our arrangement was at an end. I liked it when everyone walked away happy and with what they wanted, everyone except the target of our ire anyway.

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s that.¡±

    I returned to the house with my mind in a different place.

    Cordia¡¯s shooting of Duchess Rentree secured the victory I sought. There were no further assassination attempts in the run-up to the parliamentary elections, as the police were paying very close attention to all of the people who witnessed the murder with their own eyes. They would never find Cordia in the end. She was already buried in an unmarked grave somewhere having died at the tennis tournament and been written off as suicide or an accident.

    I kept my treasure trove of letters just in case they changed their minds. I could finally focus on keeping up with my lessons at the academy. Things were starting to pick up again, and I was being asked to learn and recall topics which I¡¯d long since forgotten from my original school days.

    Samantha remained at arm¡¯s length for the rest of the day and did not speak much during the ride back to the academy the following morning. It was odd. She was usually very talkative, and I¡¯d relented to her wishes in executing a plan that involved no bloodshed on my part. She had little to say about it.

    Oddly ¨C the first person I spoke with upon my return was Adrian.

    ¡°Back from your family emergency?¡±

    I peered up from over the cover of the book I was reading, ¡°I never said it was a family emergency. To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing you speak unprompted?¡±

    He reached into his pocket and held out the watch, ¡°I wanted to let you know that I got it back since you were seemingly so invested in learning about what happened to it before. You can rest easy now.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could tell jokes. Just so you know, my curiosity has already been sated. I know what the watch does,¡± I commented snidely.

    He was taken aback, ¡°You did?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s keep it between you and me. How did you get it back in the end?¡±

    Adrian looked uneasy, ¡°The police found it at the tennis tournament. Didn¡¯t you go?¡±

    ¡°I did. I do recall seeing some police officers inspecting a certain area and cordoning it off. I assume nothing pleasant occurred.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what happens to criminals. Petty theft soon takes a dark turn with so many competing interests. The strange part was that it wasn¡¯t the same person who stole it from here. And for that matter ¨C who even told them about the watch in the first place?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°Who would have intimate knowledge of what it is?¡±

    ¡°Only people from my family, supposedly. It¡¯s not impossible that an expert could have come into contact with it before and spread the information beyond us. It needs to be kept working somehow.¡±

    ¡°You should ask Claude to investigate. I¡¯m sure he could figure it out.¡±

    Adrian shook his head, ¡°Not likely.¡±

    ¡°Regardless, it¡¯ll take a long time to charge it again, assuming it¡¯s a magical item.¡±

    Adrian sighed, ¡°Alright. So, you do know what it is. How did you figure it out?¡±

    ¡°The exact mechanics are still a mystery to me, but the magical signature that emanates from it is distinct. You won¡¯t have to worry about that for some time now that it is empty. I did a little research of my own and discovered the man who created such devices. Dalton Fink.¡±

    ¡°Wait ¨C there are books in here that say that?¡± Adrian worried.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s only something that you can deduce having seen the watch already and knowing where to look for the relevant books. It is safer to guess that someone who also knows the watch¡¯s purpose leaked the information in exchange for money. It¡¯s a failsafe, to protect the life of the house head, is it not?¡±

    ¡°Okay! Okay! Stop trying to lord that over me. You¡¯re very smart.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t intend to lord anything over anyone. You were the one who came here to taunt me with its retrieval, to tease my prior curiosity if you will. No matter how much changes ¨C your instinctual need to compete with me in every matter big or small remains.¡±

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get one over on you eventually.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t do shooting anymore. Didn¡¯t you hear the news? I¡¯m the new belle of the tennis society. Poor Lance has been buried under dozens of applications to join, even when they have no intention of learning the sport.¡±

    However, in an ironic twist of fate, I didn¡¯t need to join the club in the end anyway. My joining it only served to see me present at Cordia¡¯s death at the tennis tournament. When I stepped back and strung together events like that ¨C it became obvious how choreographed they seemed, but I couldn¡¯t assign responsibility to Durandia alone. It apparently took her a great effort to even speak with us for a few minutes. It was a happy accident.

    Strangely, I found the sport amusing enough to continue with even after its usefulness was outlived. It was a good way to practice some of my athletic skills and hand-eye coordination without having to run laps around the campus or come up with my own exercises. It also helped varnish my character in the eyes of the other students.

    Felipe was the next to arrive in the study with Beatrice in hot pursuit. Her face lit up like the fourth of July when she spied me sitting on one of the couches. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him over to us.

    ¡°Maria! We haven¡¯t had a chance to talk in ages!¡±

    ¡°Hello Beatrice, Felipe.¡±

    ¡°I read about what happened to your Uncle. I hope he¡¯s okay!¡±

    ¡°Ah, he was a little shaken up ¨C but he was unharmed. I believe the police have assured my Father and him that no further attacks are on the horizon.¡±

    Felipe nodded, ¡°Something to be thankful for. It¡¯s incredible how many violent people are out there, waiting for an opportunity to cause chaos.¡±

    ¡°I wish I could say it was unexpected, but there is a lot of tension about the upcoming election. It could decide the future of Walser as a whole for decades to come.¡±

    ¡°Still, we have a vote for a good reason,¡± Felipe declared, ¡°It was a right handed down to the people by the royal family. Is it not absurdity to try and deprive them of that same right in the family¡¯s name?¡±

    The monarchists convinced themselves that the Van Walser family were chomping at the bit to be large and in charge again. It didn¡¯t really matter what they thought at all, it was just an easy justification for installing some lunatic from a minor branch house who¡¯d clamp down on all the people they didn¡¯t like.

    ¡°If they are susceptible to bouts of unjustified violence, they are also susceptible to a certain line of thought wherein the true meaning of their actions is not considered. The King could personally descend from the palace and tell them that they are mistaken, and they would believe in turn that he is being insincere, or attempting to communicate with them through a secret code. There is no reasoning with them.¡±

    Beatrice looked lost, ¡°Uh-huh. That¡¯s very interesting.¡±

    She didn¡¯t get it at all.

    I laughed, ¡°Let¡¯s hope that nobody else gets any funny ideas about interfering with the election. It¡¯s been very stressful for our family to have this occurrence lingering in the back of our minds. I wouldn¡¯t wish it upon anybody else.¡±

    ¡°Make sure you find time to think about your electives, Maria. It¡¯ll be what you dedicate a lot of your effort to for the next five years.¡±

    I already had a good idea in mind. I decided to settle with what interested me the most. I was keeping up appearances, and my family¡¯s immense wealth meant that I would never be left wanting for money or comforts. My preliminary selections were the sciences, magic, and history ¨C which served as an amalgamation of philosophy and politics as well.

    Part of me felt it was a waste. Maria could be more of a humanitarian, helping people or striving to improve the nation as a whole, but what a pathetic about-face that would be. The only thing I was good for was killing people for cash. The only reason I even involved myself with Felipe in the first place was because I thought it would earn me some brownie points with Durandia.

    They didn¡¯t need folks like me.

    Adrian pulled a face that communicated his complete lack of affirmation in choosing some subjects for himself. It was hard to blame him given that he was now running around putting out fires and running one of the largest business collectives in the nation. He¡¯d do well to put someone else in charge so he could focus on attending the academy. It was a small wonder he hadn¡¯t dropped out yet.

    ¡°I know that look. Do you have any idea how many of our classmates did the same thing?¡± Felipe grumbled.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get mad at me! I¡¯ve been swamped with taking care of the family after my Dad got locked up. It¡¯s a lot of responsibility.¡±

    Felipe cooled the rhetoric and patted his shoulder, ¡°Well, I can tell that you¡¯ve been forced to ¡®grow up¡¯ very quickly.¡±

    ¡°Should I be happy about that?¡± he huffed. It was a rather cordial meeting considering that same Father tried to murder Felipe a few weeks ago, but Felipe wasn''t one to hold a grudge. He believed Adrian when he said he had nothing to do with it.

    Beatrice, Felipe and Adrian took their leave soon after that ¨C each with their own errands to run before the evening was through. There was still a sense of unease in the air when Felipe spoke with me, but it was less obvious now than the last time he brought up what happened at the theatre and party. I sighed wistfully and pondered how convenient it would be if everyone forgot about me after their respective problems went away.

    Alas, I couldn¡¯t hide what was already revealed. Killing a teenager for what I chose to do was beyond my ruthlessness. I needed to learn to live with my mistakes. It was getting hard to keep track of who knew what about me. Felipe and Samantha were fully informed. Franklin was halfway there. Caius also knew my true identity.

    Obscurity through absurdity was my main tool to protect against exposure. Nobody in their right mind was going to believe that a thirteen-year-old noble girl was the one responsible for the shootings. The average noble would faint at the very idea of getting dirt under their nails, never mind coating themselves in another person¡¯s blood.

    Still, consensus between multiple witnesses would strip that protection away eventually. I had to keep a lid on how many people held that information, lest I run the risk of people taking the allegations seriously. I slammed my book shut and exhaled through my nose.

    What a cluster this turned out to be. The first two-week break was coming up, which didn¡¯t mean much to me given that I was pulled away from the academy every weekend to put out fires set by other people. It made me appreciate the more common problems of dealing with essays and presentations, and even group projects.

    Samantha wasn¡¯t going to be around so I¡¯d need to find ways to keep myself busy. If only there was reading material about Nihility magic for me to read. Perhaps a trip to a speciality bookstore was in order to see if I could dig up some gems like the ones in Miss Jennings¡¯ collection. To be honest, it was very amusing to see someone¡¯s gun fall to pieces when they pulled the trigger. I wanted to learn more techniques along those lines.

    But first, we still had more lessons to handle.

    <hr>

    Samantha was in a deep state of discord.

    It was an odd occurrence for a girl who was always so self-assured and confident in her own thinking. It was a rare sight to see her conflicted about anything. She always dived in and followed her values, no matter if people liked them or not. Her Father always said that a well-meaning act was the first step to the right solution.

    Samantha tried to apply that to her everyday life ¨C but what was she to do when events were so wildly out of the ordinary that she couldn¡¯t even describe them in sequence? The Lady, whom the entire academy admired, was truthfully a violent killer who didn¡¯t flinch at the thought of taking a life or three. Not only that but both she and her were entangled in some kind of Goddess-given mission to save the world.

    Samantha didn¡¯t understand all that fancy talk about ¡®destiny¡¯ and ¡®fate,¡¯ nor did she comprehend what made her so special as to stand opposite of Maria. She was far more talented in so many ways and a lady of high birth. From her own perspective, the only exceptional thing about Samantha was her ability to land a place at the Royal Academy through their new scholarship program.

    She grabbed her workbooks after the final period and used them to hide her face as she quickly escaped the room before Max or Claude could ask her questions. They were going to speculate about why but land on the same answer they always did, that Maria was responsible. For once they¡¯d be correct.

    It wasn¡¯t Maria¡¯s fault ¨C not directly. Maria, despite her cold and often curt manner, never insulted anyone unless she had a good reason. Samantha had come to realise that her initial insults were intended to erect barriers between her and others. Once that strategy failed, she moved on from it and opened up about why. The weight of the secret that hid beneath satisfied Samantha¡¯s initial questions and then some. She didn¡¯t argue, unless it was with Adrian, and he often brought that on himself by being obnoxious around her.

    Even so - this was the type of distance that would form between two friends who¡¯d fallen out. Samantha was angry with herself because she knew that it wasn¡¯t fair. Maria did what she asked even when it risked the life of her Uncle, yet here she was treating her like a total stranger. The shoe was now on the other foot. She tossed her belongings down onto the desk and collapsed face-first onto her bed. She was the one putting up that barrier.

    Now that she¡¯d heard her words - Samantha wished that she¡¯d never spoken with the Goddess.

    Her statements were spoken with unflinching certainty, bearing the full weight of destiny. Yet despite the undeniable truth that lay beneath them, they only served to further the cloud of uncertainty that fogged her mind. How could meeting the Goddess leave her in such a state? It was a meeting that many men and women of faith would kill for!

    Samantha wanted to power through. She wanted to keep her usual upbeat smile and friendly demeanour, but the more time she spent with Maria the less she found herself capable of doing so. She couldn¡¯t hate Maria. Despite their differing personalities and backgrounds, there was a chemistry between them that she could not deny.

    But what was this intense sense of unease that she felt when they were together? The initial shock of her ability to kill with no remorse was enough to distract her from the sad reality of it. What sort of person was Maria? What had occurred to turn her into such a cynical and cold character? It certainly couldn¡¯t be anything good. She replayed the scene time and time again but remained unable to settle on a satisfactory answer.

    Durandia''s voice echoed, ¡°You are conflicted. Your heart demands justice, but your mind recognises her rationality. You know that this world cannot be saved with pure intentions alone.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°There will come a time when you must make a difficult choice. I will speak of it now. You do not know whether to betray her or not.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s breath hitched.

    ¡°I¡¯d never betray Maria. She¡¯s my friend.¡±

    She hoped she was.

    ¡°You and I both know how unconvincing that is. You do not believe your own words. You fear that a time may come where she turns her malice unto you.¡±

    ¡°Why would she do that?¡±

    ¡°Maria has many reasons to do as she does. Even knowing her true identity is reason enough.¡±

    Samantha clenched her fists, ¡°Why are you being so vague? I don¡¯t know! I don¡¯t know who she really is, but you must. Why do you refuse to tell me?¡±

    ¡°The future is already written, Samantha. I speak now with the intent of seeing that future through to the present. There are many questions that I cannot answer, questions that must instead linger in your mind until the right time. Only you can assess Maria, only you can judge her for what she is.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re the Goddess.¡±

    ¡°I am not as virtuous as you imagine. What value does my judgement offer to the people who live in your world? The laws, the morals, the values you speak of ¨C they are all the creations of those who live there. Those who claim to speak on my behalf seek to only control the faithful. You must judge Maria as she is, from your own perspective, and choose your own answer.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t betray her,¡± Samantha insisted. Her mind could not even dream up a situation wherein she even held that power over her. Maria was always the one in control, and she never let anyone put her in a bind, where her fate depended on the actions of others. She noticed this when she remade Caius¡¯ plan to infiltrate the Franzheim manor. She did not allow a single variable to escape her notice.

    ¡°We shall see.¡±

    And that was the end of it.

    Samantha¡¯s answer was one that was imperfect in form and function. If she were to ¡®betray¡¯ Maria in the future for whatever reason, it would be easier for the both of them to stay apart again. Stabbing a friend in the back went against everything Samantha stood for. Her Father would be furious if he found out.

    Durandia did not claim that it would be a conflict delivered on equal terms. It was to be a true, full-bodied betrayal that could be found within the pages of the forlorn tragedies that Claude loved to read. Samantha couldn¡¯t imagine it. How would she ever be in a situation to do that to Maria? And for what possible reason would she elect to follow through with it?

    Durandia left some room for doubt. She said that Samantha would need to make her own choice, but Durandia already knew what was going to happen. That ambiguity served a specific purpose. The conflict she felt in her heart was intentional. It was a subtle piece of manipulation designed to push her into a specific place.

    Samantha could intuit that based on what Maria said in the aftermath, yet she found herself falling down the rabbit hole regardless. This was what Durandia wanted, but Durandia, the Goddess, would never do something so cruel, would she? What Samantha did not want to accept or conclude without more evidence was her true nature.

    She had a feeling that Maria and Durandia were more alike than dissimilar.

 Chapter 79

    The wonders of the scheduled holiday.

    For Walser, it was only a recent invention. Wrangled from the claws of needy industry and whip-cracking bosses, who insisted that non-stop work was the only way to maintain an appropriate level of productivity. Public opinion quickly shifted in favour of the unions once people got a taste of what free time could really be like.

    Rising wages and the advent of modern machinery meant that the poorest no longer needed to work sixteen-hour shifts in workhouses and factories. They could return home and rest their bodies and minds, ready for the next. I did not envy them ¨C yet the advancement of worker¡¯s rights was something to celebrate for all of us.

    They¡¯d learn soon enough that a well-rested employee was a more efficient one. Still, the question remained firmly entrenched in the political sphere for the time being. Conservative parties in parliament detested the idea of the workers taking time off, leading to a spat between the national and local governments as they tried to pass bills outlawing the practice for local authorities.

    A profound overreach that was part of the reason they received a summary pummelling in the last election. My Uncle¡¯s party roared to a commanding victory with the largest vote share amongst all of the competition, which was then boosted even further by the baffling maths behind the first-past-the-post system Walser utilised.

    Twenty-seven percent of the vote soon turned into thirty-five percent of the seats. They were the party to partner with, and the other democratic forces soon rallied behind them to form a new government. The nasty business involving the attempt on my Uncle¡¯s life combined with the rumours surrounding Duchess Rentree¡¯s untimely death only served to motivate voters even more.

    But I returned to the manor for our first full holiday knowing that nothing was properly resolved. Felipe and Samantha continued to walk on eggshells around me, which was a marked difference from how they behaved just a few weeks before. The calculus between me and them was changing rapidly ¨C but it felt as if it was out of my control.

    I pondered this and other pertinent questions during the carriage ride back to the estate. The selections had been made, and our schedules would soon be changed to allow room for our elective subjects to be taught. It was odd that such a huge decision was made so early, but the Royal Academy was at the forefront of educational innovation. Kinks like this were to be expected.

    The rocking of the carriage as we passed over the bumpy dirt roads begged me to close my eyes and drift off thinking about nothing in particular, and that sounded eminently appealing after a half-year of endless drama and stress. I should have known better.

    ¡°Lady Maria!¡±

    My eyes snapped open. There was that looming sense of disquiet again. The rudimentary suspension that carried the carriage as we slowed to a stop. We were only a few metres away from the front gate. It was rare that the driver chose to speak with us, as most nobles considered it rude to do so.

    ¡°Yes? Is something wrong?¡± I inquired, raising my voice. When I received no answer, I moved to open the door and stepped out to see for myself. The driver was still sitting there ¨C but now he was struggling to calm a pair of spooked horses.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Lady Maria. I¡¯m... I¡¯m not quite sure what to say.¡±

    I turned my eyes towards those gates, only to discover that they¡¯d been torn from their hinges by some unseen force. Those heavy, iron bars that once seemed to provide all the protection one needed, torn asunder and discarded like pieces of scrap metal. Beyond that, the gardens lay in a state of abject destruction. Furniture and smash pots littered the area, with several burnt trees and shrubs peppering the landscape.

    My heart skipped a beat, ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ name happened here?¡±

    It wasn¡¯t just the gardens. The house had borne the brunt of whatever malicious intent rolled through. Windows were smashed, doors were left hanging open, and red markings had been painted on every bare surface. A localised apocalypse had come to our home.

    ¡°Was it like this when you left?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, not at all, my Lady.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± I hissed under my breath. I turned around and reached into the undercarriage, retrieving my trunk and smuggling the gun from inside into my coat. The driver was left at a total loss as to what to do. I had a bad feeling. Nothing good was going to come from this.

    ¡°Stay here,¡± I ordered.

    ¡°But Lady Maria ¨C I can hardly allow you to...¡±

    ¡°Stay,¡± I repeated, ¡°And be ready to leave.¡±

    There was nothing he could do to stop me anyway. I kept my head on a swivel and entered the grounds, fully expecting the culprits to leap from their hiding places and attack me for trespassing. Each grisly detail only worsened my fears.

    There was a dead body lingering at the edge of the pond.

    The frilled dress of one of our maids was the first indicator that sent my heart racing. There was a wound on her back, either from a knife or a gunshot. They cut her down while she was trying to get away.

    ¡°Shit, shit, shit.¡±

    I broke out into a run and ascended the front steps. Out of the driver¡¯s eyesight, I drew my gun and peered around the open doors. The lobby was the worst affected area. A huge circular marking had been placed on the floor using what I hoped was red paint. The smell of fire and blood was strong, lingering in the air as a constant reminder that this was once one of the few places I considered safe enough to relax in.

    Upon closer inspection, the circle was more intricate than I assumed. The outer ring was filled with different symbols and shapes, all sharp edges and intersecting lines. The centre was dominated by a large splatter which closely resembled the head of a stag, with two circular eyes and a pair of horns reaching up towards the top.

    Scuncath.

    I¡¯d only performed cursory research into them after what happened with Thersyn, but this had their blood-stained fingers all over it. The iconography of the stag was a popular representation of their beliefs. If they were the ones who attacked our house, then there was little hope of finding living survivors. It was strange. They never committed crimes so brazenly, not like this. None of the case studies I found spoke of anything like it.

    My ears perked up. There was a noise coming from the sitting room.

    I kept my gun aloft and slowly made my way through the house. My chest clenched as I came across even more dead servants, people who¡¯d worked faithfully and honestly to provide for their families, now left in a bloodied heap where they once stood. Some of the bodies were desecrated even further ¨C missing ears and other extremities.

    I could only think about how insane all of this was. They¡¯d killed everyone.

    One of the maids was pinned to the wall with a sword through her chest. This was a type of violent savagery that was beyond me. My mind could not reconcile the sights I was seeing with my prior impressions of the building. This was meant to be a safe bubble, I thought, but now it was left in ruins. Two years of peace and quiet were ruined in the time it took to drive from here to the academy.

    ¡°Franklin?¡± I hazarded, ¡°Franklin? Is that you?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t seen him anywhere. The number of bodies just kept rising. They didn¡¯t see it coming, and there was nothing they could do once the carnage started. I finally reached the sitting room from where the noise originated. The walls were stained with blood and even more runic circles.

    There was a lonesome figure standing there in the study, her figure illuminated by the light coming from one of the smashed windows. She stood with a revolver in one hand and an open book in the other, like a statue ¨C even though she could hear me calling out for Franklin and the others. A million questions bubbled to the surface of my mind.

    They couldn¡¯t be one of the invaders. They were already long gone before the police could arrive. Most importantly, how could they stand by and have such a calm reaction to scenes like these? She remained motionless even as my shoes caused one of the floorboards to creak.

    I aimed at her.

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    If she was surprised by my arrival, she did not show it. She snapped the book shut and snuck it into her pocket. I was already closing in before she could flip her weapon on me and turn this into a standoff. Feeling the cold rim of my gun pressing against her head finally elicited some type of reaction.

    ¡°Oh my, is that the proper way to greet a visitor to this lovely house?¡±

    ¡°There is naught lovely about the state of the manor and you know why. I suggest you start talking before I lose my patience.¡±

    ¡°Is that an accusation of guilt? I must say ¨C this aesthetic is not to my personal taste. I much prefer green, not red.¡±

    She was being very casual given the circumstances. She was armed, not willing to answer direct questions under duress, and also willing to enter a building where a massacre just happened. There was nothing normal about it. The smell of doubt was almost as strong as the iron tinge of blood.

    ¡°What else am I supposed to think finding a stranger standing in the ruins of my house?¡±

    The woman snickered with a high-pitched shrill, ¡°A noble girl and a guard dog? How adorable!¡±

    ¡°Leave the gun and face me.¡±

    To my surprise, she complied with the order. She rested her own firearm down on the table and slowly turned around with her hands in the air. As her features came into view, I realised that this was no stranger ¨C at least not in the typical sense of the word.

    That face and those red eyes that burned like fire, there was simply no mistaking it. She looked identical to me. This was the face that I would sport in thirty years¡¯ time having endured the ravages of age and developed a sudden interest in strong, ruby lipstick. Crow¡¯s feet clawed at the edges of her eyes. Her hair was cropped short, ending before it reached her shoulders.

    Wasn''t this an interesting development?

    That answered my questions about where my Mother was supposed to be. There she was, appearing from the mist in a time of duress. I almost rolled my eyes at how typical that was for me at this point. She only appeared because it was appropriately dramatic. Durandia must have been laughing her ass off at me.

    She smiled, ¡°Uh-oh. Be careful with that, young lady.¡±

    ¡°Is this some kind of joke to you?¡± I asked pointedly. I wasn¡¯t going to go easy on her because of our potential biological connections. She was suspect. Anyone would be, lounging around the house when it was in this horrid state. It didn''t phase her one bit.

    ¡°I¡¯m very familiar with Mister Death, young lady. He and I are old friends. This is a terrible sight to see - but your reaction is far more interesting than mine. What sort of teenager pulls a gun and heads long into the breach? No normal girl. Not a normal girl at all!¡±

    Despite the glaringly obvious conclusion of her true identity, she did not openly acknowledge it. The standoff continued unabated. There was no sign of emotion in her cold features. Either she was damn good at concealing her feelings or there was something wrong in that head of hers.

    ¡°Do you mean to make me state the obvious?¡±

    She clapped her hands together, ¡°State what?¡±

    I was getting frustrated, ¡°The resemblance between us. Nothing to say, no comments?¡±

    ¡°To be truthful, I was of the mind that this reunion should never happen. Matters were easier and more palatable just the way they were before.¡±

    A very polite way of describing oneself as an absentee parent.

    ¡°You admit to being my Mother then?¡±

    ¡°Hm. Am I?¡±

    I grabbed the green sash that ran across her chest and tugged on it, ¡°Stop with the games, or I¡¯ll leave you dead in a pile with the rest of them.¡±

    That. That was the statement that finally revealed some of her true intent. It was brief, so brief that anyone but me would have missed it entirely. That was a sense of disappointment. It came and went, and she powered on without expressing it using her words. To conceal it, she laughed, and laughed ¨C and then laughed some more. It was a raspy kind of laugh that made her sound short of breath.

    ¡°Don¡¯t I look the fool now! Ever so sorry dear. I¡¯ll try to answer some of your questions. It¡¯s the least I can do given the dire circumstances.¡±

    ¡°Stop screwing around and tell me what happened.¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    She went cold again in an instant, snapping rapidly between emotions without taking a moment to rest. ¡°It is exactly as it seems, I¡¯m afraid. A roving band of murderous Scuncath have decided to visit your lovely home.¡±

    ¡°And why are you here?¡±

    ¡°This is my job,¡± she replied plainly, ¡°Any more than that is superfluous.¡±

    ¡°Superfluous, or dangerous?¡±

    ¡°Both. I was keeping an eye on them, but they gave me the slip ¨C and now we are left to reckon with the consequences. It is simply a coincidence that I find myself here.¡±

    She was some variety of detective or spy then, a government agent. I released her clothes and stepped back. She reached back and slipped the revolver into her dress before I could confiscate it. She couldn¡¯t draw that fast enough to kill me from there, so I let it go for the time being.

    ¡°Is this because of Thersyn Bradley¡¯s arrest?¡±

    She shrugged, ¡°Who knows? They have been more... aggressive of late, though to blame one event for their change of tact would be short-sighted. They¡¯ve long been known for their erratic behaviour.¡±

    ¡°And where is my Father?¡±

    ¡°You can relax for the time being, he¡¯s alive.¡±

    How did she know that?

    ¡°And Franklin?¡±

    Her heavily plastered lips upturned into a small grin, ¡°I don¡¯t know a ¡®Franklin,¡¯ but the survivors are hiding in the cellar. You should go and reassure them that the attack is over. We can talk specifics once you¡¯re done. I have no intention of leaving the scene before completing my investigation.¡±

    ¡°You honestly expect me to fall for that? There is nothing stopping you from turning tail and fleeing the moment I take my eyes off of you.¡±

    ¡°My, so untrusting! Isn¡¯t it a daughter¡¯s fantasy to be ordered around by their estranged Mother? All of your dreams are coming true as we speak. There¡¯s so much for us to catch up on. I thought you¡¯d be happy to make up for lost time.¡±

    I sighed, ¡°You¡¯re no Mother of mine.¡±

    Oddly ¨C she did not seem upset by that statement. On the other hand, she was not here by choice, otherwise, she would have appeared at any point in the past thirteen years. There was a lot of inference to be made from her actions, but she was not as subtle as she liked to think.

    She smiled, ¡°Veronica.¡±

    Not Gwyneth? That was curious.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°If you wish to refer to me in non-familial terms, then Veronica will suffice.¡±

    There was no way she was going to stay here while I poked around the basement. She didn¡¯t want to be seen at all. My searching for survivors would provide her with the perfect opportunity to slip away and disappear again, along with any of the answers I was trying to squeeze out of her.

    But the moment I moved to bring her along with me, her arm shot out and tried to wrench the pistol from my palms. I stepped back and kicked her away, where her lower spine hit the table. She ran at me again, successfully throwing me off-balance this time and wrapping her hand around the slide to keep it from firing.

    I wasn¡¯t going to let this woman show me up in a scuffle. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her down with a hip toss. She tried to clench her shins around my neck while she was on her back, but I moved away and regained control with the gun pointed in her direction.

    She found this hilarious. It was the funniest damn joke she¡¯d ever heard. She wouldn¡¯t stop laughing.

    ¡°Impressive! Really impressive! They don¡¯t teach things like that at the Royal Academy, do they?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re testing my patience.¡±

    She flipped her hair back out of her eyes, ¡°Like Mother like Daughter, as they always say.¡±

    ¡°Most Mothers don¡¯t try to do something so dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Well. I saw that look in your eyes and reasoned that you¡¯d be fully capable of stopping me. Call it a stray curiosity. Who taught you to do that?¡±

    It was my turn to laugh, ¡°I did.¡±

    She stood up and dusted off her dress, ¡°I suppose I cannot expect an answer from you when I am also concealing so much.¡±

    I really disliked this woman. She was a compilation of personalities that rubbed me the wrong way.

    ¡°Are you done with these childish games? I want to find them before they kill my Father too.¡±

    ¡°Damian is hardier than you think ¨C Maria.¡±

    He must be to handle a crazy woman like this. I lowered my gun to release some of the tension that was building between us. It was always a fine line to tread between winning them over and threatening them with harm. Enemies could be very good accomplices if you tricked them into believing it was their idea.

    ¡°Hardy enough to fight off an army of Scuncath?¡±

    Her smile dropped, ¡°No. Not really.¡±

    It was difficult to wrap my head around this conversation. All of this had happened within a few minutes. The manor was in ruins, my Father was missing, the Scuncath were now rampaging in a manner unusual by their standards, and my estranged absentee Mother was now galivanting around the place and trying to frustrate me.

    I would have thought that the Mother issue would be one that demanded an hour¡¯s debate before she admitted to it ¨C but maybe she saw that as a pointless endeavour given our similarities. She really did look the spitting image of me; aside from the fact that she was significantly taller than me. The genetic lottery was not kind on that front.

    She followed me like a good girl until we reached the cellar entrance, which had been conspicuously barricaded from the inside.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be seen by anybody else,¡± Veronica commented, ¡°It will make matters more complicated than they need to be.¡±

    I was not in the mood to argue with her about this. I peered through the keyhole and spotted the chair that was being used to hold it shut on the other side. A little focus and nihility magic solved that problem, shaving away one of the legs and causing it to fall down the stairs.

    ¡°How did you do that?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m allowed to have my secrets too, Veronica.¡±

    I hurried down into the cellar and took a moment to let my eyes adjust to the darkness. If they were hiding down here, they¡¯d even gone to the effort of killing the lights to stay concealed. There were a lot of empty casks and shelves down here. It was the first time I¡¯d actually stepped inside.

    ¡°Franklin?¡±

    I walked deeper and repeated his name until I finally got a response. His head appeared from behind one of the casks all of a sudden. If I were made from weaker stuff, I¡¯d have jumped up into the rafters.

    ¡°Maria! What are you doing here? You need to go and hide!¡±

    I held out my palms, ¡°Take a breath, Franklin ¨C the people who did this are gone.¡±

    The sense of relief on his face was palpable. He turned back to an unseen group of servants and waved them over from their hiding place. A gaggle of maids and butlers soon emerged and started to mull around the cellar while Franklin conversed with me. It was a mournful reminder of how many of them were murdered and left to rot on the property as we spoke. Normally the full number would not be able to fit in this small room.

    I pulled Franklin out of earshot, ¡°What happened here?¡±

    He swallowed, ¡°Did you... see the bodies?¡±

    ¡°I did. I recognise some of the symbols they vandalised the place with. Scuncath.¡±

    ¡°Scuncath?¡± he echoed, ¡°I had no idea, but now that you mention it ¨C such abject cruelty is their speciality. Merely killing an innocent man or woman is not enough, they must do so in a manner most bloody.¡±

    Franklin was understandably shaken up. He¡¯d barely escaped a similar fate, but that also meant that people he knew, hired and worked with were now dead as a result. I¡¯d give him the space he needed once he confirmed the story that the woman upstairs was offering me.

    ¡°Franklin. Take the rest of the staff away and contact the police.¡±

    Franklin found my straight-laced instruction supportive in times of stress. He nodded and stood up at his full height once more, ¡°Very well. What about you?¡±

    I hushed my voice, ¡°There is someone upstairs I need to speak with. Not one of the attackers, I think, but they know something about what happened. We can talk once you¡¯re calm.¡±

    Franklin frowned, ¡°A passer-by? There must be a screw loose in their head if they considered walking into this mess voluntarily. I know you can handle yourself but...¡±

    I was really curious. Did Franklin know the person claiming to be my Mother? He¡¯d worked at our house since shortly before I was born, a claim that none of the other servants could boast on their resumes. Surely if she was pregnant with me, or rather the vessel that I would eventually inhabit, he would have seen her skulking around the estate at some point.

    Durandia¡¯s explanation as to how I became Maria led me to believe that I didn¡¯t even have a Mother. It would have been easier to conjure me and my Father out of thin air than worry about filling in the fine details. Was it some variety of divine conception? I was starting to suspect that there was good reason to keep all of this information secret.

    Thus, I decided to keep Franklin in the dark for the time being. He had bigger issues to worry about first.

    ¡°I spoke with her on the way down here and she pointed me in your direction. I don¡¯t believe that she has ill intent, or that she was involved in the attack.¡±

    Franklin nodded, ¡°Very well. I trust your judgement. I¡¯ll get the rest of the servants away from the building and walk to the police dispatch box.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need. The carriage is still outside.¡±

    ¡°Ah! That will make it easier.¡±

    ¡°What happened to my Father?¡± I asked.

    He gritted his teeth, ¡°I... they took him. Hauled him away like a prize deer. There was nothing we could do, but they did not kill him like the others. Hopefully, he¡¯s still okay.¡±

    ¡°I see. Then we will have to endeavour to rescue him before the worst happens.¡±

    Franklin rounded up the servants and escorted them up the stairs. There was no getting around the rank violence that occurred here. There was blood everywhere, and the bodies of their friends and co-workers would be impossible to ignore. It was almost enough to make me feel queasy - and I¡¯d seen some horrible things during my years as a hired gun.

    As for my Father, his survival was strange. Why would they break into the estate, slaughter everyone they could get their hands on, and then kidnap him? Were they going to try and extort our family for money in exchange for his release? That would suggest a level of top-down organisation entirely out of line with previous Scuncath attacks. The mayhem was the goal, not the means, and never attempted in large numbers.

    When I returned to the corridor, Veronica had gone missing. I was just about to lose my cool as I felt that spike of frustration in my chest, but I found her quickly though. She was taking a closer look at the huge circle that was painted onto the tiled floor in the lobby.

    ¡°See? I told you I¡¯d stay.¡±

    It sounded as if she was trying to reassure me that we could be a happy family again, like a recently divorced parent.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to do more than that to earn my trust.¡±

    ¡°You and I both know that earning your trust is impossible.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Because we are more alike than you choose to imagine. I understood what sort of person you were the moment you held me at gunpoint back there. You don¡¯t trust people. Trust is for buffoons who believe in some kind of innate goodness when we live in a world dominated by material motivations.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°For your part, you could have made yourself look less suspicious. I don¡¯t go pointing firearms at just anyone.¡±

    She clutched her hands to her heart and cooed, ¡°I¡¯m honoured to be among such illustrious company. It shows that you care.¡±

    Her dry sarcasm was merciless. It was so dry that I almost mistook it for a serious statement.

    ¡°Are you going to tell me what you can about this mess now?¡±

    She pocketed her notebook and smiled, ¡°Ah. Naturally ¨C there are many things I am not permitted to say, and for once I agree that those restrictions are for the best. Aside from the obvious, it appears that the Scuncath have started to put a new plan into motion. One which demands a level of organisation seldom seen from them.¡±

    ¡°Why did they kidnap my Father?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure. Information about their practices is... light, at best. If I were to make a guess, I¡¯d say they want him for one of their ritual sacrifices. They believe that the nature of the person used has an impact on the creature that is summoned from beyond the veil. They call them Horrcath.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s old Walserian. The Scuncath name is composed of two parts. Scun, which means follower, and Cath ¨C who is the patron saint they associate with. Horr means messenger, so the monsters they intend to summon are messengers of Cath.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen or heard of a Horrcath before.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re real ¨C but most have the benefit of having never seen or encountered one. Horrcath are extremely difficult to summon. First-hand accounts of what they can do are few and far between. There hasn¡¯t been a sighting in a hundred years. I don¡¯t know each variety from experience, but luckily for us one of the foremost experts in the field is here on the Coast.¡±

    She double-checked that she¡¯d marked down everything accurately before turning and walking through the front door.

    ¡°Don¡¯t sic the police on me when they show up,¡± she pleaded.

    ¡°I thought you were working for the government.¡±

    ¡°I am, but that doesn¡¯t mean that all of the limbs know each other. The department I work for used to be even more secretive than that. Only the Royal Family and the highest-ranking civilian officials were even informed of our existence.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s okay to tell me that, but not the name?¡±

    ¡°Funny how that works, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Walser¡¯s Internal Security Division was not an old institution by any standard. As part of the compromise process between parliament and the royal family ¨C power over the military and intelligence service was handed over to elected officials. A series of reforms were badly needed to transform them from the royals¡¯ secret police into something more useful.

    There was only one intelligence force that existed in the country before that. The Sturml?ufer, who were one-part real occurrence and three-parts conspiracy theory lunacy. That may not have been their real designation, but there were accounts of these people serving as guards and fixers for the royals over the decades preceding the revolution.

    I was thirteen years old. Just old enough to be conceived after the reformation into the WISD. If Veronica was serving with them for long enough to appear in her early forties now, that meant she was working with them from a very, very young age. Those allegations of employing child soldiers as agents may have been close to the truth.

    ¡°You¡¯re one of those ¡®Sturml?ufer¡¯ that Claude won¡¯t shut up about.¡±

    She chuckled, ¡°Sturml?ufer ¨C it makes me laugh every time I hear it. No such organisation existed before the compromise or after it. In fact, the name Sturml?ufer was coined in a newspaper article penned by Frank Birkin in response to the attempted assassination of Princess Gloria.¡±

    I sighed, ¡°Aren¡¯t you just a wellspring of interesting information.¡±

    ¡°I like to read,¡± she retorted simply, ¡°And in this job, knowing everything is very helpful.¡±

    I still had a lot of questions about this, and I was still on the fence as to whether to give her words any weight at all. This could all have been an elaborate scam to earn my trust and get away none the worse for wear. None of the other Scuncath stuck around to face the police though, and the resemblance was too uncanny to discard.

    She curtsied, ¡°But now is the time to take my leave. Lots of work to do. Busy, busy, busy!¡±

    I stopped her before she could take off, ¡°Hold on a second. What makes you think I¡¯m going to stand here and do nothing? I¡¯m going to find my Father and make them regret ever trifling with our good name.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t bring you with me,¡± Veronica protested.

    ¡°That¡¯s too bad. I¡¯m not going to give up, with or without your help.¡±

    ¡°This is no business for a girl your age, Maria. Stay here and clean up the mess, go to school, do whatever it is that you do. Under no circumstance should you try to follow me. There are a lot of dangerous people involved in this who you¡¯d do well to stay away from.¡±

    ¡°I can handle myself.¡±

    ¡°Could you face down a horde of enraged Scuncath and walk away in one piece?¡±

    I decided to make my position known to her. There were simply two outcomes to my gambit. She would either believe me, or not ¨C and both outcomes would not change my involvement in this. Veronica was fooling herself if she thought that I¡¯d sit back like a good girl and wait for someone else to solve my problems. I did not want to end up buried under my Father¡¯s work like Adrian did.

    It was somewhat risky though. If she had the power of arrest, she may decide to haul me to the nearest station for an interview. Given that she was trying to avoid seeing the police though...

    ¡°The shooting at the Escobarus estate, did you ever figure out who was responsible for attacking the Tee¡¯s Gang?¡±

    Veronica¡¯s eyes narrowed, ¡°That wasn¡¯t my assignment. But no. The only survivors blamed the shootings on a...¡±

    There was the recognition I was looking for.

    ¡°They blamed it on a young girl who was attending the event as a guest? They told stories so absurd that the police didn¡¯t entertain filing them in their reports, or presenting it as evidence during the trial?¡±

    For the first time she was rattled; ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡±

    I stepped closer, ¡°Oh yes I did. These Scuncath, they¡¯ll wish that they plead forgiveness from the Goddess when they had the chance when I get my hands on them. Demons are the last thing they¡¯ll be worrying about when I find the hole they¡¯re hiding in.¡±

    Veronica could not enunciate an appropriate response to that claim. She stared a hole through me from above, somewhat undercutting my attempts to appear intimidating. I was not necessarily trying to intimidate her, rather, I was moving to make it clear that there was no prospect of avoiding my interference in her case. She could bring me along and have control over what I did, or let me loose and risk screwing up the whole deal for her.

    She understood what I was doing, ¡°You drive a hard bargain.¡±

    She believed me. It must have been because of the brief fight we had earlier in the study. You could intuit a lot about someone¡¯s capabilities from a short scuffle like that.

    ¡°Call it payback for not stepping in when you had the chance.¡±

    Veronica frowned, ¡°I¡¯m only one woman, Maria. Leaping in and getting myself killed was not going to assist any of your deceased servants, nor would it protect any of the Scuncath¡¯s future victims from similar crimes.¡±

    ¡°Then leave the heroics to me.¡±

    ¡°That would be most problematic,¡± she insisted.

    ¡°Well ¨C I can be swayed away from taking impulsive actions if you offer me a piece of information about our ¡®relationship¡¯ in exchange.¡±

    Veronica, unsurprisingly, did not bite on that offer.

 Chapter 80

    The very first words Samantha¡¯s Father spoke to her once she passed through the front door of their house were ¡®why the long face?¡¯ He had an uncanny ability to see straight through whatever she and her brothers were struggling with. Normally Samantha would find his counsel helpful, but in this case, there was nothing he could say to her that would quell the conflict in her heart.

    She knew that not saying anything would keep worrying him ¨C so she passed him by with a claim that some friend trouble at the academy was responsible. A little lie by omission wouldn¡¯t hurt him, and it was partly true on top of that. The full truth was too insane for him or anyone else to believe. She¡¯d spoken with the Goddess, and that Goddess revealed that she would betray a friend sometime soon.

    The real pain point for Samantha was that it went against her values. Her family had always stressed the importance of doing the just thing, and always striving to act with honesty and integrity. Her Father¡¯s answer for a troubled mind was hard work ¨C so he quickly handed her a set of responsibilities and errands to complete during her two weeks away from the academy.

    Mucking out the stables, preparing food for the animals, and performing general maintenance on the fences and farmhouse. Today he was using her as an extra pair of hands, dropping off some of their unsold produce at the local market for a discount price. The two workhorses pulled the cart along the dirt roads into the outskirts of Channery.

    Things rarely moved quickly in a semi-populous rural town like Channery, but both Eastons noted the unusual level of activity going on in the market square. There was a large quantity of food and alcohol being purchased and hauled away. It was like harvest season had arrived early.

    Eugene tipped his hat and whistled, ¡°The town¡¯s really bustling today. It looks like they¡¯re getting ready for some kind of party.¡±

    ¡°But the harvest festival isn¡¯t for two months yet,¡± Samantha commented.

    Eugene studied the faces of the customers, but he failed to recognise any of them.

    ¡°Hm. Must be some new residents, or visitors. I read in the paper that Channery is one of the most popular places for people looking to escape the city. Would you agree, Samantha?¡±

    Samantha disagreed, ¡°The Academy isn¡¯t in the city proper. I don¡¯t really spend much time there unless we have an excursion planned for us.¡±

    Eugene carefully manoeuvred their own cart into the unloading area, where the store¡¯s owner, Adam, was waiting for them. Steering two braying horses through stacks of crates and shelves was something that took time and practice. Eugene was blessed enough to have both in spades.

    ¡°Eugene! I didn¡¯t know that Samantha was back in town.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Two-week holiday for the students. Sometimes I wonder how much they¡¯re making those kids work.¡±

    Samantha hopped down and started the arduous task of unloading the goods.

    Eugene nodded towards the commotion out front, ¡°Busy day, Adam?¡±

    The older man chuckled and stroked his beard, ¡°Aye. It¡¯s a rare sight to see so many folks coming down to the store and buying everything on the shelves. That¡¯s only reserved for the harvest season usually. You¡¯re a lifesaver, Eugene.¡±

    ¡°Well, we didn¡¯t plan it this way ¨C did we?¡±

    Adam cut Eugene off before he could start haggling; ¡°Let me pay you a little more for this lot. I thought I was going to have to throw most of it away when it rots, but now I need all of it!¡±

    Eugene was a friendly man but he could be ruthless when it came to getting a fair deal. It was commonly understood by members of the community that everyone was trying to provide for their families. Depressing prices too much was bad for everyone because it made city buyers think they could push the farmers around when peak export season arrived.

    ¡°They tell you what they¡¯re buying so much for?¡±

    Adam pursed his lips, ¡°They¡¯re buying it for some kinda¡¯ party that¡¯s happening. They¡¯re not willing to share the details with an old man like me. I just hope they don¡¯t go causing too much trouble. A lot of the strangers coming into town have been nothing but trouble lately.¡±

    Eugene sighed, ¡°Like that thief?¡±

    ¡°The thievery wasn¡¯t even the biggest problem! The damn fool was getting hammered in the bar every night and picking fights with some of the other drunkards. It¡¯s the last thing you want to see when you¡¯re relaxing after a hard day¡¯s work.¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯s all a matter of perspective, Adam. I imagine the victims of his sticky fingers were more concerned about getting their belongings back.¡±

    Samantha returned empty-handed to pick up another bag of unsold grain, ¡°For goodness sake! Are you going to give me some help here?¡±

    Adam pulled an odd face, ¡°Woah. That¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve heard your little girl get so testy with you.¡±

    Eugene snorted, ¡°She¡¯s in her rebellious phase I think. Ben and Tobias were much worse - I can handle a bit of sass. I better give her a hand before she turns me in to Meriden and has me thrown in the dog house.¡±

    Adam barked out a laugh at the imagery. The dog house in this case was more metaphorical than literal, but there was no doubt in Adam¡¯s mind that old Meriden would gladly throw him in the stables with a blanket to spend the night if he crossed her.

    The pair dispensed of the non-exported food and grain in short order, placing them down onto a palette by the back door so that Adam and his employee could move them inside and restock the shelves later. The men out front still hadn¡¯t finished moving their carts yet, and one more had just arrived to pick up the last of their purchase ¨C blocking them in as a result.

    ¡°Looks like we can¡¯t move until those folk clear off,¡± Eugene grumbled.

    ¡°I can tell them to go move it,¡± Adam offered.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. We have a few errands to run, if you don¡¯t mind me hitching the horses here for a spell.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any other deliveries planned, so feel free. I¡¯ll keep an eye on ¡®em for you.¡±

    Eugene thanked him and led Samantha away from the unloading yard to complete the rest of their errands. As they passed the convoy of customers, Samantha couldn¡¯t help but notice the dirty glare being sent in their direction by some of the travellers. The way they were dressed, the way they spoke - she could only feel unease when around them. Samantha didn¡¯t like the way that one of them was staring at her Father, not one bit.

    Their manner was disturbing the other residents. They were taking up a large part of the interior road with their carts and were making an awful lot of noise. Many of them were marked with tattoos on every piece of exposed skin, though Samantha was not usually one to judge based on that factor alone.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like those people at all,¡± Samantha murmured as they walked away, ¡°They look like trouble.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s with the judgemental attitude all of a sudden? Is this because of what happened at the academy? I can¡¯t offer you any advice if you don¡¯t tell me what¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s personal,¡± Samantha responded, ¡°I don¡¯t feel comfortable explaining the whole deal to you.¡±

    ¡°Ben and Tobias used to say the exact same stuff when they were your age. There¡¯s nothing wrong with asking me or your mother for help if you don¡¯t feel alright.¡±

    Ben and Tobias never had to deal with a question this complicated, Samantha thought ruefully. Neither one of them was contacted by the Goddess, and neither one of them was told plainly that they were going to potentially betray one of their friends. If that was the type of problem they dealt with during their teens ¨C then perhaps they could find some common ground.

    Even a brief explanation of what was eating at her would take hours of fine detail, including a full contextualized history of her relationship with Maria, revealing several of her closely guarded secrets in the process, all to reach a point wherein he would immediately laugh the whole tale off as her overactive imagination. Samantha wasn¡¯t even certain that the story was true ¨C and she was the one experiencing it!

    ¡°Ben and Tobias probably haven¡¯t dealt with anything like this.¡±

    Eugene laughed, ¡°Really? Do you have any idea what sort of trouble teenage boys get into? It was almost every darn week with those two!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not fighting with my friends, I¡¯m not being bullied, and nobody has done anything to me otherwise. It¡¯s just me.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so what have you done?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    Eugene adjusted his hat, ¡°Nothing? Is this about picking what subjects you want to study?¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°No, I was confident when it came to choosing what I wanted to focus on. Everyone else was struggling ¨C but I think I¡¯ve discovered a job that I really want to try and do.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all really proud of you, me, your Mother, Tobias and Ben. Meriden always gets so excited imagining you out there doing your best and taking in everything you can, she wants to see where you end up as a young woman in a few years. Your Mother and I want to support you as much as we can.¡±

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°But I don¡¯t think you can help, Dad. This is me arguing with myself over something odd. It has nothing to do with my studies or being the only farmer on the campus. I just need some time and space to work it all out in my head.¡±

    ¡°If you need peace and quiet, there isn¡¯t a better place than here. Channery is Channery. Nothing much exciting ever happens around here. Troublemakers get told to pound sand, and there¡¯s always a friendly face keeping an eye out should someone try to meddle with your property. So don¡¯t pay those rowdy tourists any mind.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t assume that things will always stay the same. I thought that the Academy would be a peaceful place, but I ended up in a hostage situation within the first term...¡±

    Eugene snickered, ¡°But you set them straight, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Shut up. I¡¯m not bulletproof.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to be. You stared them down like a raging half-hawk and made them get a taste of the Easton family¡¯s toughness!¡±

    Eugene was always happy to make jokes out of serious situations, as was his Goddess-given right as a Father of three. What was the point of having children if not to annoy them by undercutting serious matters like this? He¡¯d quickly come up with his own embellished version of events that credited Samantha with saving the day, standing resolute against the gunmen despite the danger.

    But that wasn¡¯t her ¨C it was Maria.

    Samantha couldn¡¯t believe she blew up at Maria over what happened at Thersyn¡¯s house. Samantha wasn¡¯t the one putting herself in grave danger for the sake of other people, yet she thought she had the right to tell her how to do things. She humoured her at the Franzheim house, but only because she wanted to.

    She was no heroine at all. She loved to talk big about her own values, about doing the right thing, yet Maria was right in her decision to lead the firemen to Thersyn¡¯s home. How many innocent people had he murdered and stored in that basement of his? How many more would have fallen victim in the same way if not for her unethical actions?

    Burning down his home was dangerous. It was not the correct way to dispense justice to a man who committed grave crimes. Yet the outcome made those missteps acceptable in retrospect. Thersyn was too influential to be investigated seriously based on nothing but allegations.

    It was eye-opening. This was the truth of Walser and the society that it cultivated. Egalitarian values were aspirational, not reality. Rich nobles and influential industrialists could do whatever they wanted. In the face of that, was it really so wrongheaded of Maria to take a direct approach? She was taking down bad guys, dismantling conspiracies, and protecting her friends and classmates in the process. Samantha was getting hung up on the methodology because she wasn¡¯t used to violence.

    Samantha¡¯s brow furrowed. In an ideal world, she needn¡¯t get familiar with violence at all. If she was ever in a position to feel comfortable with it, then she must have gone astray somewhere along the line. She wondered to herself about Maria, and how she became so willing to use violent means to achieve her ends.

    ¡°Having a pastry from Mary¡¯s shop will do you wonders,¡± Eugene concluded, ¡°My treat for all the hard work.¡±

    ¡°Are you trying to bribe me with food already? You don¡¯t usually run out of ideas for at least three days normally.¡±

    ¡°Bribe! You make it sound so sinister.¡±

    He knew Samantha wasn¡¯t going to say no to a free pastry.

    <hr>

    Adrian hated coming back to the empty house. It was crazy to recall that just a few months ago this was the preferable option versus being at the Academy. Suddenly being surrounded by others whom he didn¡¯t have much patience for sounded like a holiday compared to this.

    He always felt that the house was too big for them. He and his Father were the only regular residents. There wasn¡¯t even a staff house on the property, not that there were any maids or butlers working for him anymore. Adrian, in a fit of paranoid rage, fired all of them after the watch was stolen.

    They were never good company anyway. They haunted the halls and corridors like spectres, coming to and fro, cleaning and completing tasks, and occasionally bringing a meal to his door during long evenings of working through piles of paper. It was a harsh lesson in the realities of running a business. His Father handled almost all of it without assistance. With him gone, there were no contingencies to fall back on. Adrian was slotted into his place and expected to do the same amount of work to keep the company afloat.

    Easier said than done though. His Father¡¯s scheme had shredded their reputation to pieces. Suppliers and buyers were dropping out at an equally alarming pace, putting a serious cash squeeze on every arm of the company. Nobody wanted to be associated with a man who gladly aimed gangs of violent killers at teenage nobles. Adrian didn¡¯t want to either ¨C but he didn¡¯t have a choice in the matter.

    ¡°I should have hired someone to do this,¡± he griped. Where would he even start looking for an accountant skilled enough to handle it?

    Each movement of his quill stood alone as the only source of noise in the manor. There were no birds or animals to speak of. It was almost as if they could sense the foul air that hung around the property. Adrian looked out of the window and into the garden below. The plants and grass were starting to grow out of control without a gardener to look after them.

    But all of these niceties, the comforts he took for granted, were not things he needed. The garden would sit unused, he was capable of making his own meals, and the dusty rooms would simply remain untouched until the time arose for them to be occupied again. Adrian wanted to stay focused on what really mattered.

    Yet he couldn¡¯t. His brain was melting from each ear just looking at the long list of negative numbers staining the balance sheets. With a frustrated roar, he grabbed the pile and tossed it into the air. They fluttered down around his hunched body and landed on the floor in a disorganized heap.

    ¡°What am I even doing this for?¡± he complained.

    He laid his head against the desk and stared at the wall. His contemplation was meant to be a momentary break before he stood and gathered the scattered papers. It wasn¡¯t only him who made money from the businesses he now bore responsibility for. His Father employed hundreds of other people to make the machine run smoothly. It wouldn¡¯t be right for him to leave the on the lurch with a sudden closure announcement.

    Something else conspired to attract his attention. A loud noise caused him to sit up again. He twisted around in his seat and looked towards the door, which lay slightly ajar. The darkness of the outside corridor was not an inviting sight, and he was the only person on the estate, or rather ¨C he was supposed to be.

    Adrian walked to the door and considered locking himself inside to be safe. Was it worth risking his safety to stop some petty thief from stealing an old vase? The watch was out of charge, seemingly used by the thief before it was retrieved from their body. It would take a decade to recharge again. He didn¡¯t have a backup plan, nor did he have a point to restore himself to should the worst occur.

    Adrian¡¯s combative side won out. He could spook them by making some noise, and if that failed, he could slip out of the back door and run over to the police checkpoint that was located nearby. There were a lot more officers on duty ever since the attack at the Escobarus estate. The nobles wanted to feel safe.

    He stepped out into the corridor and took a candle from the wall.

    The house was huge and mostly empty, with high ceilings and big windows. It was terrible at trapping heat from the fireplaces. He could feel the chill settling in immediately. Locating the source of the noise was going to be a tedious process. Items could be moved and misplaced and Adrian would completely forget about them.

    The faint light being emitted by the candle was not enough to illuminate the opposite end of the corridor. The darkness encroached, meaning every step was a matter of anticipation as more and more of the interior was revealed. Adrian took one step and stopped ¨C the bottom of his shoe releasing a loud clicking noise.

    Adrian kicked his shoes away and left them by the door. It wasn¡¯t paranoia, it was just going to get in the way of finding the noise, he reasoned with himself. He continued walking until he reached the top of the main stairwell. Everything remained as it was before the sunset.

    Just when Adrian started to think that he was inventing the sounds ¨C another one came from the kitchen. Adrian felt a thrum of anxiety run through his chest. He didn¡¯t like this. Even when it was his Father¡¯s plan, the incident at the theatre still lived large in his mind. There was a real chance that he or someone from his class could have died as a result.

    Adrian thought about what to do next. The noise was not his imagination playing tricks on him. He was meant to be the only person in the manor. That meant that a stranger was inside the building with him. He needed to leave. He needed to run to the police box and get help before something terrible happened.

    What happened next was so sudden and violent that Adrian was left standing at the apex with a bewildered expression. No less than three men poured outwards from one of the doors and looked up to see him standing with his candle flickering. One of the men pointed at him from below and yelled at the top of his lungs.

    ¡°There he is, he¡¯s upstairs!¡±

    It was a scene more terrifying than any of the horror novellas had read in the library. It took their sudden dash for the stairs for him to realise that they were trying to chase him down. Adrian spun on his heel and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. There was only one way out of the house with them watching the main stairs ¨C the staff access on the other side of the building.

    They were unbelievably fast. A pack of bloodhounds was on his tail, gnashing teeth and frenzied eyes gleaming through the dark. Adrian¡¯s heart pounded like a hammer in his chest. His legs burned ¨C his energy being expended at a frightening pace. They were gaining on him!

    ¡°Stay away!¡±

    He pulled furniture, chairs, bookshelves, anything he could get his hands on ¨C and tipped them over onto the floor behind him. They continued regardless, not so much as hesitating at the makeshift obstacles he was trying to erect. He could hear them ranting and raving, taunting him from the darkness.

    He wasn¡¯t going to make it to the stairs.

    Adrian ditched the candle and slipped into the darkness. A door, a door ¨C he needed to find a door. It didn¡¯t matter where it led or what room he¡¯d be trapped in, he needed to get out of their way and buy himself some time. He dived through one of the doorways and slammed it shut. He scrambled towards the nearest sofa and grabbed it, slipping on the floor as he tried to find purchase and pull it across the entryway as a barricade.

    It was too heavy.

    Adrian moved on to the next idea. He was left with no choice but to fight using the magic he¡¯d learned at the academy. He rued his past self for not paying good enough attention when Felipe was tutoring him. All he could manage was a low-voltage bolt by ionising the air. It was going to be useless against anything more than a skittish animal.

    He held out his hands and prepared. The doors swung open with such force that they crashed against the wall and left indents in the plaster. All of Adrian¡¯s hopes were dispelled within seconds as a horde of masked men descended upon him like a swarm of hornets. His arms and legs were soon restrained and held down to the floor.

    ¡°Get off of me! Do you have any idea who I am?¡±

    ¡°We do! That we do!¡±

    A lone figure loomed over him. The frayed beige sack he wore over his head contained nothing but two eyeholes, allowing Adrian a glimpse into the manic gaze that resided in the shade.

    ¡°Mister Adrian Roderro, your reputation really does precede you.¡±

    ¡°What is this?¡± Adrian protested, ¡°Why are you in my house?¡±

    The men were bedraggled. They wore dirty clothes and stunk of something foul. The ones holding his arms and legs leered down at him with crooked smiles and rotten teeth. They were enjoying his distress greatly.

    The leader held a hand to his chest and bowed, ¡°Rejoice, young man! You¡¯ve been selected as a guest of honour for an important party that we¡¯re throwing. We have many esteemed men and women coming to join us, and it wouldn¡¯t be right to leave the head of the famous Roderro family out in the cold!¡±

    Adrian struggled to try and break free, ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about!¡±

    ¡°Pull him up.¡±

    The men forced Adrian back to his feet, where the difference in stature between him and them was made clear. He couldn¡¯t wrestle himself free. Five men were surrounding him on all sides. He ceased resisting and stared at the man posing in front of him.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to look so glum, friend. I promise you ¨C when I say that we¡¯re going to enjoy a party together, I really mean it. We¡¯ve got so many wonderful people coming to share in the celebration. So smile!¡±

    Adrian was not in the mood to smile.

    The captor¡¯s arms dropped down to his sides in disappointment. One hand slipped into the pocket of his workman¡¯s coveralls. Adrian¡¯s heart skipped a beat as the man pulled a dagger from inside and held it up to his neck with a furious growl. The cold steel made his entire body shiver.

    His voice rose into a shrill scream, ¡°You think you¡¯re too good for us, don¡¯t you? We¡¯re doing all of this for your sake ¨C but you have to be an entitled shitbag about it! Smile! Before I gut you like a bloody fish! Smile!¡±

    Adrian did his best to put on a fake grin.

    His tone switched to something more soothing like the flip of a switch, ¡°That¡¯s better. Isn¡¯t it nice to share a smile with friends?¡±

    The knife receded.

    ¡°Bag him and take him to the cart.¡±

    Everything went black.

 Chapter 81

    Claude received a rude awakening that evening. He was used to his Father returning home late, sounds coming from the kitchen as he prepared himself a late meal or settled down at the dining table for an extra session with his work. He was happy to write off that noise while he lay in bed, at least until it became obvious that it wasn¡¯t just his Father and Mother running around the house.

    But the noises coming from outside the thin windows of their countryside cottage were much more than that. At least a dozen distinct voices were creeping through, along with the sounds of horse hooves meeting the dirt along the road. He hopped over to his bedroom window and peered through the curtains.

    Dozens of handheld lanterns illuminated the garden and the road behind it. Policemen, all booted and suited and ready for action, in numbers that were far too large to be a passing seasonal migration. They lived in a quiet area, mostly surrounded by other rural dwellings and a handful of sprawling noble estates. Whatever could have happened to bring them all to his door?

    ¡°Claude, Claude!¡±

    Claude grabbed his slippers and walked to the door. His Father, Victor, was waiting for him in the hallway, still wearing his coat and cap. His face was bright red from the cold.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    He sighed, ¡°Sorry about the fuss, but can I bother you with something important? There¡¯s been an incident, and I need someone to keep an eye on Max.¡±

    ¡°What happened to Max? Is he okay?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s fine - thank the Goddess. I¡¯ve got to run and coordinate this mess though. Keep him company for me, will you? We don¡¯t have anywhere to keep him right now.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to ask. Is he downstairs?¡±

    ¡°Aye. Wear something warm. It¡¯s cold tonight.¡±

    Claude hurried to dress himself and move downstairs. When he got there, his Father was gone to bark orders, and Max was pacing back and forth in the dining room like a chicken with no head.

    ¡°Max, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s total mayhem!¡± Max fretted, ¡°They¡¯ve attacked a dozen different estates and kidnapped people from all of them! There¡¯s blood and bodies... What are the police doing?¡±

    Claude stepped in and tried to calm him down, ¡°Just take a seat and breathe, Max. I don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    A visibly flustered Max followed his orders and sat at the table. It took him a minute to collect his thoughts and explain why a squadron of police officers was in front of Claude¡¯s home.

    ¡°I think your Dad said it was okay for them to launch from here. There are police all over the damn place. A gang of bloody lunatics just ran through and started killing whoever they could get their hands on. I overheard that it was here, at the Escobarus place, and it happened at our estate too.¡±

    ¡°Did you get out before anything bad happened?¡±

    Max nodded, ¡°We have private guards. They couldn¡¯t stop all of them, but they warned us before they showed up. Dad... Dad wouldn¡¯t leave until all of the staff were taken care of, said it was his responsibility as the head of the family. Now he¡¯s gone. They have no idea where they went either.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s crazy. The sun only just set ¨C and they launched an attack that brazen?¡±

    Max clenched his fists, ¡°They must have been planning this for ages. They waited until security was loosened, for when everyone got bored of worrying about what happened to Felipe and the Roderro lot.¡±

    Claude couldn¡¯t quite believe what he was hearing. The scale of the disaster unfolding was beyond his worst estimation. For every family that hired private security, there was another that relied entirely on stone walls and a remote location to fulfil their safety needs. If these attackers were so ruthless as to massacre the people working there ¨C it must have meant hundreds of dead victims.

    It made his stomach turn thinking about it, but the imagery was too intrusive to be forgotten. Max was never one to exaggerate. Every word he spoke was the precise truth of what he saw and heard. There were a lot of noble estates in the area. Now the huge police presence made sense, covering that much ground was going to be impossible with their usual patrol officers.

    ¡°Are you okay? You look really shaken up.¡±

    ¡°Well, I am,¡± Max explained, ¡°I didn¡¯t see the worst of it, but they were out for blood. I kept my head down and got out of there as fast as I could. My hands won¡¯t stop shaking.¡±

    ¡°A cup of tea will do you some good,¡± Claude concluded. He moved into the kitchen and prepared a pair of cups for them to drink from. Heating up the water felt like it took even longer than usual. He was out of his depth. Claude had no experience with being a reliable shoulder for someone to use as support. Even he was liable to admit that he often only worked people up rather than calming them down.

    He ferried the drink into Max¡¯s hands and sat next to him.

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    The two sat silently for several minutes, only moving to take sips of their respective beverages. They could still hear the sounds of the police mustering outside. Carts and horses were being used to move them in large numbers from their posts to sweep the entire district in fine detail. Normally, Claude would be filled with confidence, assured in the fact that his Father would direct an effective effort to locate the culprits, but this time was different. His faith in the systems designed to protect others had been tested time and time again.

    He could only reach a pessimistic conclusion; the culprits were already gone.

    Max finished his drink, ¡°Why do you look more distressed than I do?¡±

    Claude let out a weary chuckle, ¡°You saw right through me. My Dad keeps telling me that I have a face that tells all. Not a good trait for a detective to have.¡±

    Max knew that well. He always believed that Claude was doing it on purpose. His entire face would crease and emote with a certain level of comic openness. It was really easy to tease him for whatever reaction he desired because his face led him right to the most sensitive points of his psyche.

    ¡°Stop worrying so much about me. I¡¯m thinking about Dad, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Afraid he¡¯ll get hurt?¡±

    ¡°Dad never gets hurt. I have a bad feeling about their odds of catching them. I don¡¯t mean to be a downer, but a lot of terrible stuff has been going on lately and it doesn¡¯t seem like the people responsible are ever impeded.¡±

    Max nodded, ¡°It sure feels that way, I agree. The only thing we can do is hope that nobody else gets hurt. I think some of the staff from the estate were killed in the confusion.¡±

    ¡°Goddess above. They sound even worse than the monsters who tried to kill Felipe.¡±

    ¡°They must be. Those guys were only trying to kill Felipe because Roderro was paying for it, this lot ¨C they¡¯re a bunch of animals. If it¡¯s even half as bad as what I overheard on the way here...¡±

    Max and Claude remained seated in the dining room into the early hours of the morning, occasionally peering through the front window to see what was happening outside. Aside from the policemen giving out orders and coordinating the search, two guards were placed in the garden to ensure that the criminals didn¡¯t make another attempt at snatching Max. As the hours stretched on ¨C their remaining confidence in this matter being resolved quickly started to wane.

    It was evident to Claude that the criminals had already made their escape. The police would now be going through the crime scene with close attention to detail to find any clues that they left behind. As much as they wished to distract themselves with a book or study, the ongoing investigation dominated their attention.

    After passing the point at which they both ceased to feel tired, Claude¡¯s Father finally emerged from the darkness and entered the house again. Both young men waited in the landing to see what he had to say.

    ¡°Dad, what¡¯s going on?¡±

    Victor approached Max and laid a firm hand on his shoulder, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that your Father has gone missing. We¡¯re confident that they haven¡¯t harmed him directly, but there¡¯s no sign of him at the estate.¡±

    Max was expecting bad news, but it still took the wind from his sails to hear it first-hand.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like it. There are reports of similar attacks all over the countryside. Keep this between yourselves, but the damage is even worse at the Walston-Carter estate.¡±

    ¡°Maria¡¯s house?¡± Claude gasped, ¡°Is she okay?¡±

    ¡°According to the responding officers, she¡¯s fine ¨C as are many of her family¡¯s employees. It¡¯s an almighty mess we¡¯ve been left with. Picking through all of the rubble is going to take weeks of non-stop work, never mind what the detectives are going to have to do to find out where they ran off to.¡±

    ¡°Thank goodness. I suppose we should celebrate the small miracles,¡± Max said.

    Victor removed his cap and held it over his chest, ¡°I promise that we¡¯ll find your Father, Max. Mastfa has been a close friend of our family. It¡¯s not only my duty as a police officer but also my chance to repay the many favours he has given us.¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Max smiled, ¡°I hope you¡¯ll give an equal amount of consideration to the other families too.¡±

    ¡°The other Captains are going to do their part. This investigation is too big for the likes of me to handle alone, but that¡¯s very selfless of you to say. I see that he¡¯s been instilling the right values in you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing special,¡± Max insisted. His modesty was appropriate, but also rare.

    Victor heard a handful of horror stories from some of the other affected families. He understood the despair they felt at the moment, but some were taking it too far and levying insults on the working men of the police force. That was the type of stress that the rank-and-file were not expected to deal with. One thing was for certain, he and the other Captains would be bowing their heads in apology a lot more over the next few days.

    It was a security failing of massive proportions. The implications of the breach would be wide-reaching and long-lasting. How did the intelligence service fail to notice and act on such a large criminal conspiracy? What were the police officers on station doing when the attacks occurred? And who was going to take accountability for those failings when it came time to reckon with the fact?

    Victor dreaded it. It was the kind of politicking that he avoided like the plague. Nothing more than a pack of vultures sticking their claws where they weren¡¯t wanted, looking for the next big scapegoat to place the blame on. It would impede their investigation. It was not a matter of ¡®if,¡¯ he¡¯d seen it play out before a dozen times over in different scandals.

    The world would be a better place if they allowed the police to focus on the job, instead of juggling public relations and damage control on top of that. A lot of the public didn¡¯t understand that the police were not infallible, they could not be everywhere at once, and they could not see the future.

    Nobody suffered the guilt of those mistakes like the officers. Victims could be aggrieved and struck with grief, but the officer was the one who felt remorse. Victor knew some bad apples who thought themselves above it, but he always emphasized how important it was for each officer to take responsibility for their work. They were deciding the future of thousands of people on both sides of justice.

    ¡°You can stay with us until the estate is cleaned up and properly investigated. Are your Brothers away from the house at the moment?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯ll be rather difficult to contact them without a telegraph link.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what we can do to inform them of the developments,¡± Victor assured him, ¡°The police have been utilising telegraph messages more often lately, thanks to parliament getting off their bums and ponying up the money for them. Anyway, I¡¯m rambling on and there¡¯s work to do. You two should try to get some sleep. Nothing exciting is going to happen for the rest of the morning.¡±

    Max was unsure of how much sleep he could really get given the circumstances. He was putting on a brave face but he was terribly worried about his Father. The only reason for that gang of butchers to keep him alive rather than murdering him on the spot was that they intended to do something much worse to him instead. His body had been flushed with adrenaline for hours.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go back to my room.¡±

    Claude escorted Max upstairs and out of Victor¡¯s sight. Claude didn¡¯t know what to do or say to his best friend. His condolences would do nothing to assuage to concern that was boiling beneath the calm and collected visage he wore. He did not want to sound like he was making light of the situation like he tended to do on accident.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be able to sleep like this!¡± he complained.

    Max exhaled, ¡°True. I¡¯ve never felt this awake before, as much as I wish I was not. Perhaps a night¡¯s rest would help alleviate this anxiety I feel.¡±

    Claude went through the motions, retrieving an oft-used sleeping roll from beneath his bed and unfurling it on the floor. An extra pillow was taken from his bed and offered to Max so he had somewhere to lay his head. Max had left the estate in such a hurry that he was still wearing his evening clothes.

    Both boys crashed down onto their respective beds and stared at the ceiling through the darkness. The occasional glimmer of a policeman¡¯s lantern sent cascading patterns across the room, diffused by the branches of the tree that stood tall in front of the house. Both were highly aware of the sounds coming from outside. The rattle of a chain, the wind against the windows, and the discussions being held between the officers charged with picking through the carnage.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t feel real,¡± Max mused, ¡°Like it didn¡¯t even happen.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d normally be in my bed right about now. I get so attached to my schedule that having it disrupted feels like the whole world is ending.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking about Maria.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°They said that those blokes attacked her estate too. What a mistake that¡¯d be. Like jumping into a half-hawk¡¯s cage after letting it starve for a week.¡±

    ¡°You really see her as some kind of lunatic, don¡¯t you? I doubt even the mighty Lady Maria could stop them.¡±

    ¡°Wanna¡¯ bet on it?¡±

    ¡°No thanks. Your stupid predictions always have a way of being technically true.¡±

    ¡°If they come true, then they¡¯re not stupid. You just can¡¯t accept when I¡¯m right about something.¡±

    Sinking into the doldrums of another inane argument with Claude was exactly the kind of firm ground that Max was looking for. They did this all the time, and it served to remind Max that not all was lost yet. There was still hope that they¡¯d find his Father and bring the culprits to justice.

    But on the outside, beyond their eyes and ears, there was a spreading belief that this investigation was not going to be simple. Victor was there in the cold, rubbing his hands together while one of his detectives studied some of the graffiti left behind on the Abdah grounds.

    ¡°Is this from any gang that you recognize?¡± Victor inquired. He used to be up to date on all of the iconography before he became a Captain.

    Detective Klaus, who was always a steady hand, shook his head.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say I do recognize this symbol in particular, but I have a sinking feeling that it belongs to the Scuncath. These forms and characters are distinctive. Part of me cannot reconcile that idea with this incredibly bold attack, though.¡±

    ¡°Scuncath, like that Thersyn fellow?¡±

    ¡°Yes. They tend to act in small cells. A group of three or four, committing violent murders in a fruitless attempt to summon demons and the like. Their handiwork is gruesome, to say the least. You¡¯re lucky you never had to work one of these cases yourself, Captain ¨C they stick out in the mind.¡±

    Victor¡¯s brow furrowed, ¡°A large-scale Scuncath raid on the estate of just about every noble family from here to the coast, and we have no idea where they¡¯ve taken the hostages. I assume this is different from their usual modus operandi.¡±

    ¡°Very much so,¡± Klaus rumbled, ¡°It¡¯s worrying. The Scuncath have always been violent offenders, and fairly large in number, this is an example of the damage they can cause with a minimum level of coordination. They were using weapons, blunt, bladed, firearms ¨C they rolled through here and left this destruction behind. They want to strike fear into us and every well-meaning citizen of this nation.¡±

    ¡°But why target these nobles?¡± Victor pondered, ¡°A majority of them are private citizens. It won¡¯t inhibit the inner workings of the government in the slightest.¡±

    Klaus stood at his full height. He was well known for his tall, willowy figure.

    ¡°There have been a lot of interesting developments in the field of criminal psychology recently, Captain. I¡¯d recommend that you read some of them, but to save time, we can assess this kind of attack based on a handful of different factors. The most important one is the risk associated with it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say it was risky.¡±

    ¡°But not as risky as targeting MPs, who are presently under watch after the Clemens incident. They launched this attack because it offered them the largest impact with the least risk of being caught. The risk of being caught is the most important factor in determining if a criminal decides to commit an offence, more than the potential punishment for being caught.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Victor objected.

    ¡°Think about it from their perspective Sir. Why worry about the sentence when you believe that there is no realistic chance of being caught in the first place? What good is a rule when there is no enforcement to back it?¡±

    They walked through the garden and approached the house. Several bodies were hidden, concealed beneath white blankets until a carriage could arrive to take them to the morgue. Detectives had already searched them for clues. Victor couldn¡¯t divert his gaze. He stared at them as he passed.

    ¡°But we also have to consider their own, personal motivations. Scuncath don¡¯t commit crimes out of passion or a desire for wealth. The overriding meaning behind their murders is to pay tribute to the Dark Goddess, or at least, their version of them. That motivation may be difficult for us to understand or deduct.¡±

    ¡°There are no past reports to go by?¡±

    ¡°Scuncath do not speak of their intentions, and unfortunately public records about them were heavily censored under the Van Walser¡¯s rule.¡±

    ¡°Nothing can ever be easy, can it?¡± Victor griped. He used to think that concealing dangerous information was the best way to protect people, but years of working as a leader in the police taught him a harsh lesson about how wrong that perspective was. Moments like these reinforced his view that an open public record was valuable to crime prevention.

    The damage to the estate was severe. Windows were smashed, furniture upturned and burnt, valuables and paintings torn from the walls. Similar markings were sprawled onto every reachable surface in a morbid combination of red paint and the victim¡¯s blood. Pools of the stuff were everywhere ¨C located in spots where the unfortunate working men and women were killed with no recourse.

    It was a butchery. Victor¡¯s outrage was so incandescent that it was almost enough to ward away the night¡¯s chill. He had seen many heinous crimes in his decades-long career, but this was something else entirely; a systematic massacre of innocent people who were just trying to make a living and go about their business.

    Victor couldn¡¯t understand what drove them to violence like this, and he didn¡¯t want to. Gazing long into the open maw of the mad was not going to provide him satisfactory answers. He silently feared what the hostages were going to go through if they weren¡¯t rescued soon. To be killed like this was brutal enough, he shivered imagining what they would do given time to prepare first.

    ¡°This is grim,¡± Klaus stated quietly, ¡°It¡¯s like they pulled the scene right out of the history books.¡±

    Victor frowned, ¡°The Civil War isn¡¯t history for a lot of us, Klaus. Back then a sight like this was what happened when you walked to the shops to try and buy food for your family. No police to be seen. I still think about that from time to time. I¡¯m not going to let these people go without answers, or without justice.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to offend.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t. You¡¯re right. I thought that this kind of mess was behind us, behind Walser, but it appears that I was mistaken.¡±

    Klaus shadowed Victor while he moved between the responding officers to get a summary of their findings. The attackers did not leave any room for doubt about the order of events. They bust through the back gate with a hammer, stormed through the garden and forced their way into the house through the back door, while some of the group split around each side to prevent people from escaping.

    From there they started to kill and maim whoever they came across using a variety of means. Some of those weapons were left behind in the chaos. Axes, knives, other sharp instruments, some blunt force injuries ¨C and a handful of firearms. Since their primary objective was to kidnap the head of the estate, they didn¡¯t waste time creating elaborate means of execution.

    This same process was playing out in dozens of other houses across the West side of the country. It was a veritable who¡¯s who of influential nobles, snatched from their homes over a few hours, so quickly that the police were unable to organize a response and stop them in the act.

    Victor and Klaus stepped aside as another body was rolled through the hallway on a cart. They¡¯d be finding them for some time still yet.

    ¡°This house is huge,¡± Klaus commented, ¡°They haven¡¯t finished searching every room yet. The point man only just found the keys.¡±

    ¡°Tell them to be careful, who knows what they left behind to surprise us.¡±

    Victor walked past one of the doors and hung his head. The stress was getting to him. He was hoping for a quiet evening at home, not co-ordinating a search and investigation of this scope. His eyes wandered to the left where the door was left ajar. A thin strip of visibility allowed him to see into the room beyond.

    And the pair of bloodshot eyes that watched from the dark.

    Victor stepped back, but it was too late to open a gap now. The stranger burst through with a knife in one hand and charged at him. Victor felt the pain shooting through his body as the blade slipped into his abdomen and forced him back into the wall. There was no remorse hidden between those glossed-over orbs, just the intent to kill one last man before the game was up.

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    Klaus acted fast. He drew his pistol and fired twice, dispatching the man with two accurate shots to the chest area. He tumbled to the ground dead, but the knife remained embedded into the Captain¡¯s stomach. Victor groaned and held the knife in place to prevent any more bleeding. Klaus turned back towards the lobby and yelled as loud as he could, ¡°The Captain¡¯s been hurt, get the medic down here!¡±

    Victor¡¯s mind wasn¡¯t on the injury. Not only was he doing overtime - but he¡¯d also fallen victim to such an amateurish assault.

    He¡¯d never hear the end of it.

 Chapter 82

    Perhaps I was na?ve when I thought my Mother would brim with curiosity about what I¡¯d been doing while she was away doing intelligence service stuff. Several hours after that revelation, and offering my testimony to the police about what happened at my house, she had yet to ask me a single question.

    We sat in one of the few untouched rooms with a table between us. A healthy distance, one might call it. No matter our blood relation, this woman was dangerous, but I was not yet certain if she was also bad news. Veronica happily consumed her entire body¡¯s weight in bread and jam. She was not due to leave for her next destination for a few hours, so irregular were the trains that headed south from here.

    The longer I spent studying her face, the more I accepted that this woman was related to me. It may not have been a mother-daughter relationship, but it was real. There were too many similarities to simply discard the idea as a lie. The way her cheeks bunched up when she smiled, and the crease of her brow when she frowned, those were key tells that went deeper than surface-level appearances. I was good at identifying targets from my old job and those details mattered. My eyes drifted south to the pile of food she¡¯d pilfered from the kitchen.

    She started our second discussion off on a strange, almost confrontational note; ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t expecting anything from me.¡±

    My eyes snapped back to her face, ¡°Like what?¡±

    She smiled, ¡°Thirteen years of missed birthday presents. Hugs, kisses, the sorts of things that Mothers do for their daughters.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not silly enough to believe that,¡± I contested, ¡°You made it very clear from the beginning that you have no interest in ¡®connecting¡¯ with me. You needn¡¯t worry about disappointing me if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about. I never expected anything from you in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Dearie me. You seem to have developed quite a sharp tongue - even without my guiding hand. It makes me wonder about those smart men at the University who speak of ¡®genes¡¯ that reside within us, about how those invisible codes shape who we are and what we do.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m well aware of what nature and nurture mean.¡±

    From my perspective, I was the one who came into being first. Veronica did not know that I¡¯d lived an entire lifetime separate from this before my rebirth. This was all by design - I assumed. This world was similar yet different from the one in the game I played, the game that Durandia and her helper planted to educate me on how it worked.

    My eyes burrowed into her, ¡°I have my reasons to doubt that our similarities are simply biological. There are limits to what one can know from genetic memory.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to ask where you learned how to fight. I assume it would be a waste of time.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯m not telling you anything unless you provide me with an equal answer in exchange.¡±

    ¡°But I do know that they couldn¡¯t have snatched you from the cradle and put you through your paces. Rich little girls enjoy a life free from that sort of problem.¡±

    It was easy to infer from her accent but that was more evidence that Veronica was no noble lady. Given that she was allegedly kidnapped by the ¡®Sturml?ufer¡¯ and trained from childhood to be a talented killer slash problem solver, it was likely that she came from an impoverished background, one wherein she would not elicit a wide-scale police search if found missing. Being an orphan was the explanation I settled on for the time being.

    As for meeting my Father, it must have been in the line of her work after they were reformed into a civilian intelligence agency. Her handlers were probably not thrilled to discover that she was both fraternizing and sleeping with an unmarried nobleman. An unplanned pregnancy followed, so she went to ground and disappeared until the time was right to deliver me.

    Once that was done ¨C Damian took over and raised me from birth, taking every measure to ensure that nobody, not even me, could discover the real identity of my Mother in the meantime. What a convincing narrative I weaved from a few small tidbits of information.

    The cat-like smile on her face unnerved me. She knew that I was deducing all of this as we spoke.

    ¡°Actually, I don¡¯t need any concrete answers from you. I have what I want.¡±

    ¡°Hm. So the young lady believes she knows everything now, does she?¡±

    ¡°I know that I don¡¯t like you one bit.¡±

    She laughed, ¡°Joy of joys. I even managed to land smack-dab in the middle of your rebellious phase, and how adorable it is!¡±

    I remained unshaken by her mockery, which seemed to annoy her. She leaned into the table and narrowed her eyes.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot about me that nobody will be able to understand. You look really pleased with yourself, but you shouldn¡¯t be. All of those theories bouncing around in that pretty skull of yours? They¡¯re just that ¨C theories. Don¡¯t pretend for one second that you know what makes me tick.¡±

    ¡°I could say the same to you. Treat me like a fool at your own peril.¡±

    She laughed again, ¡°Those words coming from that face? It¡¯s not scary. It¡¯s cute.¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t be cute when I beat you in another fight.¡±

    ¡°Beat me? I wasn¡¯t even trying.¡±

    ¡°A convenient excuse, if an unconvincing one.¡±

    She stood and slammed her hands down onto the table but rather than unloading another bout of verbal abuse to perpetuate the debate, she thought twice, and sat back down without saying another word. I was trying to push her buttons just to see what would happen. This aloof act she was using was a type of behaviour I found personally irritating.

    She bounced back to our previous topic like the petty bickering never happened, ¡°Actually ¨C you can see me however you want to. It won¡¯t hurt.¡±

    ¡°I have a fairly good idea of who you are already. You said you were going to explain more about this case to me, so stop shovelling food into your mouth for a second and give me the details.¡±

    ¡°I still haven¡¯t decided whether to bring you along.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s too bad ¨C because it¡¯s not your choice to make.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t force me.¡±

    ¡°Just like you can¡¯t force me to stay away. I don¡¯t imagine that you¡¯re bold enough to cause any real harm to your daughter.¡±

    ¡°Would you like to test that theory?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± I goaded her.

    Her hand shot out and grabbed one of the dinner knives from the table. She twisted it around with a flick of her wrist and threw it with all of her strength in my direction. I didn¡¯t even flinch as it embedded itself into the wood beside my head, barely missing the cartilage of my ear. She stared at me.

    ¡°Very impressive,¡± I smirked, ¡°But there was no chance of that hitting me. You held back.¡±

    Veronica remained stiff like a statue, glaring at me with elevated shoulders and tense legs. I picked up my fork and continued eating. Sensing that this showdown was over, she sunk back down into her seat and adjusted the collar of her dress. Eating was the method by which she calmed her nerves in the face of her own daughter.

    What a curious character.

    ¡°You mentioned an expert on demons earlier.¡±

    ¡°Very astute. While it is my responsibility to end the Scuncath¡¯s criminal operation, that does not mean I¡¯m an expert on the esoteric methods they use to achieve their goals. I was hoping that by speaking to a resident historian at the Walser National University their motivations would be made clear.¡±

    ¡°Who is this expert?¡±

    ¡°Genta Cambry. An unassuming fellow from a family with a long and eventful history. His Grandfather and Father were both extremely knowledgeable about demonology and the occultic history of Walser, and he continues that legacy to this day by taking tenure at the University. Academics are one of the few groups who dare to venture into the subject, given the government¡¯s long-standing position of censoring any mention of it.¡±

    I¡¯d never heard of him or his family, from either my present life or my playthroughs of the game. This was someone who existed outside the scope of that original story.

    ¡°I hope he does know what¡¯s going on. The scale of these attacks is rather alarming for someone in my line of work,¡± she tutted dismissively.

    ¡°Why? Were there more of them?¡±

    ¡°Yes, there were. Every noble family from here to the coast were graced with their own visitors who acted in the same way. They¡¯ve kidnapped several other important people along with your Father.¡±

    ¡°For ransom.¡±

    ¡°No, not ransom. You don¡¯t bring together a group like this only on the promise of getting money out of it. Scuncath only care about causing as much damage as they can. I¡¯ve been following these groups for two years, and they have all kinds of strange beliefs that motivate their actions. My guess is that they want to summon a Horrcath, and they believe the blood of the rich and noble will summon a particularly nasty type.¡±

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Why do you need an expert if you already know this much?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t. I¡¯m making assumptions based on previous cases involving them. I may eat crow in a few days when they send a ransom notice to the police, I cannot predict the future.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be convenient?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make my position clear. I don¡¯t want you to come with me. It would be foolish to bring any civilian with me, never mind one your age. The handlers won¡¯t like it. They¡¯ll try to kill you if they find out.¡±

    ¡°They are more than welcome to try their luck.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you fully understand just how dangerous they are.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t tell me who they are - so I¡¯ll use my imagination. I¡¯m afraid that I cannot ascertain a threat that I lack information on. The scales are not tipped in your favour. That¡¯s too bad.¡±

    ¡°You really are a churlish sort,¡± Veronica complained, ¡°You already understand perfectly well why I can¡¯t do that, yet you persist regardless. If you come with me I¡¯ll see you abandoned at the earliest opportunity.¡±

    ¡°Well, I suppose you do have prior experience doing that.¡±

    Perhaps that was more mean-spirited than I intended, but I was getting pulled into a mindset that Veronica did not care about what I said to her. I couldn¡¯t miss the opportunity to hit her with that low blow when it was so easy. She opened her mouth to reply but paused and reconsidered her response.

    ¡°No, no. I¡¯m not doing this. This needs to end, here and now. Do you understand what I¡¯m trying to say here? This is no business for a girl your age! You should stay here and worry about the usual things that a girl your age worries about.¡±

    I motioned to the destruction that had been wrought on the garden outside, ¡°This is the kind of matter that I worry about! A group of rampaging murderers have just stormed through my home and massacred dozens of people! If you don¡¯t want me ¨C fine, but you should know full well that I¡¯m not going to take this lying down. You can have me on your leash or you can leave me to potentially get in your way later. Those are the two options.¡±

    ¡°You are not going to leash yourself to me. You haven¡¯t listened to a word I¡¯ve said.¡±

    ¡°I did listen, but it¡¯s obvious that I¡¯ll only comply if you give me a good reason.¡±

    ¡°I did give you a good reason.¡±

    ¡°Not good enough for me. If you fight as well as you throw knives, there¡¯s no chance that you¡¯ll be able to solve this mess.¡±

    I abruptly stood from the table and left the room with Veronica in hot pursuit behind me. The house was a crime scene now, so we stayed well away from the officers and their work while Franklin handled all of the stuff they needed from us. Up the staff stairwell, down the corridor, and into my bedroom where a half-prepared trunk of spare clothes and ammunition was waiting. I was so frustrated with her that I didn¡¯t even try to hide the fact that I was arming myself to the teeth.

    Firstly, I needed to hide my pistol. I slipped the gun into my trunk¡¯s hidden compartment with her hovering over my shoulder like a looming spectre. She was quick to start needling me about why I had any of this on hand.

    ¡°Where in Walser did you find a Burs Semi-Automatic?¡±

    ¡°A mystical, lesser-known place called my Father¡¯s office.¡±

    ¡°You stole it.¡±

    ¡°Steal is such a loaded term. I prefer to use the word ¡®borrowed.¡¯ It¡¯s not as if he was getting any use out of it locked up in that drawer. It was already buried under a pile of papers when I took it ¨C the final stage in the life cycle of all of his forgotten purchases.¡±

    She crossed her arms and whistled, ¡°That¡¯s Damian alright.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to hear your admonishments for possessing this gun. It¡¯s saved my life no less than two times already, and I assume it will continue to save my skin for some time yet.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t admonishing you, though you should consider how Damian feels before you so eagerly place yourself into these situations.¡±

    She wasn¡¯t admonishing me ¨C but she was telling me what to do anyway. Did this woman ever listen to herself talk?

    ¡°Those occasions were not through choice. If we lived in a perfectly peaceful world where everyone obeyed the law and acted in good faith, none of this would have happened.¡±

    I could tell that she was desperate to know where I learned to do all of this. As an alumnus of the ¡®Sturml?ufer,¡¯ she¡¯d have inside information on how, who and why they trained people to work as government agents. I was outside of their usual strike zone when it came to recruits. Too rich, too influential, too much of a paper trail. It was extremely unethical, but was the reborn guy who killed people for money in any place to criticise?

    I was nothing if not a shameless hypocrite though. I was on the mend, trying to do things differently to that past life, even if Durandia was going hell for leather trying to stop me. That was why she wanted me in this world in the first place. I was here to get myself into trouble and somehow save the world along the way.

    ¡°Is your butler okay with this?¡± Veronica mused.

    ¡°Franklin is a consummate professional. If his Lady asks, so it shall be. Getting out of his hair will be less stressful for him now that he has to deal with the police investigating the estate.¡±

    I slammed the trunk shut and hoisted it up.

    ¡°Money, gun, spare clothes ¨C anything else?¡±

    Veronica scowled, ¡°Why are you asking me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who knows what we¡¯re going to be doing.¡±

    I left her in a stupor once again. Shock and awe were proving to be the most effective strategy when it came to dealing with her. It was time to go and catch her train and visit the University of Walser. Hopefully, her expert had some answers about what was going on, and where we could find my Father.

    <hr>

    Adrian was not having a good time. It felt silly to think that given the circumstances, but sometimes the plainest language was the best way to communicate what he felt. He was tied up, blinded, gagged, and thrown into the back of what seemed to be nothing more than a cart normally used to transport hay - with the hay left on the planks to enhance the discomfort he felt.

    The men who kidnapped him were all smiles, congratulating each other on a job well done, cracking jokes and insulting each other like good friends. It was cold, dark ¨C and the journey they were making took hours. It was a small wonder that nobody spotted them on the way and alerted the police.

    Mercifully, the cart came to a stop. Adrian had no bearings for where he was or how long they¡¯d been moving. A pair of rough hands grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him down onto the dirt. Then they walked him down into a stone staircase. The cold was even worse when they descended below ground level.

    The journey came to an end. Adrian heard the sound of a metal door being unlocked and pulled open. His restraints were released, and a firm hand shoved him through into what he guessed was a cell. With his hands free ¨C he could remove the bag and gag himself. What waited for him was worse than his wildest and most vivid nightmares.

    Fernando Escobarus was here.

    There were others too, but Adrian¡¯s eyes couldn¡¯t divert from the impatient scowl that he bore like a weapon. The bruises on his face spoke of a violent confrontation with their captors. The more worrying development was that Fernando knew that his Father was the one responsible for trying to kill his son.

    A different voice broke the ice, ¡°Sir Roderro! What an unfortunate way for us to meet.¡±

    It was Maria¡¯s Father, Damian Walston-Carter. Having him and Fernando in one place was an unbelievable score for them. These were two of the most valuable men in the entire nation of Walser, with a combined personal wealth that eclipsed several small countries.

    ¡°Mister Carter? What are you doing here?¡±

    Damian laughed morbidly, ¡°It appears that we¡¯re all in the same boat now. Did they come to your home too?¡±

    ¡°They kidnapped you and Sir Escobarus? How is that even possible?¡±

    ¡°Not just us,¡± Fernando grumbled, ¡°They attacked every estate they could reach. Ours, yours, Carter¡¯s. On the way here, I saw Sir Abdah in one of the other cells.¡±

    Damian leaned against one of the stone walls that surrounded them. He was keeping cool despite the circumstances. ¡°Dare I say that the police were caught flat-footed by a highly coordinated effort to take us and bring us here,¡± he posited, ¡°I doubt that these gentlemen are interested in trading us for random.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Adrian scoffed, ¡°They have the lynchpins of Walser¡¯s upper class and industrial interests here. They could ask for all of the money they¡¯d ever want or need and we wouldn¡¯t be in a position to stay no.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already tried that,¡± Fernando revealed, ¡°Damian is correct. They don¡¯t want our money. Try talking to one of the guards when they visit and you¡¯ll receive naught but mockery in return.¡±

    While Adrian was glad to be on speaking terms with Fernando ¨C he would have preferred to have learned this somewhere else. The cell was cramped, with barely enough space for the three of them to lay side-by-side. There was no window. The floors and walls were made from the same dark stone and sealed with mortar.

    The iron bars that contained them had seen better days, but they were enough to stop a handful of prisoners. Adrian walked to the bars and tugged on them. They were firm. Across the way was another cell, but it was empty. Adrian could hear others speaking further down the corridor.

    ¡°Where are we? This must be some type of fortification.¡±

    Damian stroked his beard and considered the situation, ¡°Aye, that would seem to be the case. These cells are made from Churn Blackrock. We must have been taken West from the coast.¡±

    ¡°You can identify this stuff by eye?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve worked with stone foundries for decades. Blackrock has a distinctive purple iridescence when light hits it. Forts in the West were built en masse using it during the civil war.¡±

    Adrian looked to the corridor outside. The stone on the floor there was in the direct path of the torches that illuminated the chamber. True to his word, there was a slight purple tinge that moved and flickered with the flames.

    ¡°That does pose a new problem. There are hundreds of forts just like this one, dotted around the countryside and left abandoned by the local authorities. If they don¡¯t know where to start looking for us ¨C it may take them too long.¡±

    Adrian was starting to see the similarities between Maria and her Father. They were both insightful, stern, and never afraid to mince their words. Adrian and Fernando were thinking the same. If not for money, then surely these monsters had another, more deadly reason for bringing them here. None of them wished to stay and find out what that was.

    Adrian was not optimistic about their chances of escape. The police were going to spend a few days getting the officers in order before working in earnest to find them. The fort was presumably in a remote location where nobody would think to wander. And if they were acting with urgency they would be done with their foul deeds and scatter to the four corners of Walser before they could be stopped.

    Adrian found his own patch in the tiny cell and claimed it, hugging his knees close to try and stay warm. At least the floor was dry. Matters would be truly dire should the cold seep in through water leaking between the stones.

    ¡°Is Maria okay?¡± he asked.

    Damian nodded, ¡°She was not due to arrive at the estate for some time. While I shudder to imagine the sight she must have seen on her arrival, I take comfort in knowing that she avoided being captured or murdered by them. Our staff were not so lucky.¡±

    Fernando rubbed his hands together to try and warm them, ¡°They could have at least let me bring a damned coat! We¡¯re going to die a death of cold down here before those lunatics get to us.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t want us dead yet. We¡¯ll have to sit tight and wait for the police,¡± Damian stated.

    Adrian peered through his fingers and studied Fernando¡¯s face as the discussion quieted down. He¡¯d seen him only once since the incident at the Theatre building. Adrian attended several of his Father¡¯s court dates where the full story was told to a jury. At the time, Fernando was flustered by the events. He gave a fiery impact statement to the court about how much the crime rattled the family, about how paranoid they¡¯d become, and the emotional toll that the news took. That was where his anger poured forth freely and unrestrained.

    Adrian was not given a chance to discover if that animosity extended to him. His Father was very firm in his defence. Cathdra was the one who planned it, he was the one who paid out to have Felipe killed, Adrian was not aware of his own Father¡¯s actions. It was the truth - but that didn¡¯t mean it would convince anyone.

    What he saw in the now was not the face of a man brimming with fury. Now that there was time to think and recall what happened, those emotions were subdued. There was a tinge of despair. Adrian was not gifted with the social talents of others his age but even he was capable of seeing that an apology was not what he wanted from him.

    So he remained silent.

    Voices continued to echo from atop the stairs. There were other captives in these cells, but they could not be seen. Sir Abdah was here somewhere, as were many others of note. The only thing he could do now was close his eyes and try to rest. His hope lay on the outside, but would they find them in time and stop this fiendish plan?

 Chapter 83

    Franklin was the one left holding the pieces of our once pristine estate. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure where I was going or why, but I told him to give the police a convincing cover story about moving away from the house while everything was being cleaned up. They weren¡¯t going to check on me after already giving them my side of the story.

    What followed was a supremely awkward carriage ride with Veronica sitting directly across from me, arms folded and brow furrowed. My games were putting her in a bad mood. She didn¡¯t want me here and she had good reason to feel that way, but I wasn¡¯t going to compromise on this.

    There were still a lot of questions. My theories were only that, theories ¨C and I was only applying assumptions based on the ¡®story¡¯ I was living through. Everything had to connect together neatly, every antagonistic force needed a sympathetic backstory, and every action that seemed mysterious had a reason behind it.

    The first conclusion was a simple one. The fact that she hadn¡¯t perforated my head with a new breathing hole meant she was trying to keep me alive, either out of personal or professional reasoning. That would also explain why she wanted me to stay away from her dangerous line of work. It was a convincing fa?ade for someone not invested in analysing events through the lens of a visual novel.

    When we arrived at the train station to head to the University, she finally broke her silence.

    ¡°Have you ever ridden one of these before?¡±

    ¡°I know what a train is, but no.¡±

    Veronica grinned that crooked grin, ¡°They make my life so much easier. Trains are the greatest invention wrought by man¡¯s hands.¡±

    ¡°You must travel a lot.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    No elaboration on where and why, though.

    I was already on edge before we reached the main platform, which was a beautifully constructed brick and stone, two-story building. This was a busier place than I¡¯d visited in some time, with at least a hundred people mulling around the area and doing their business. The Scuncath we were hunting had eyes and ears. How else would they have been able to launch such an ambitious kidnapping scheme if not?

    Veronica was a wild card. The agency she worked for, WISD, was secretive, but Thersyn proved that Scuncath beliefs could be harboured by people in high places. I didn¡¯t have time to look into how publicised the existence of the agency was. This was not an age of free-flowing information that could be accessed by anyone with an internet connection, nor were there strong legal norms or precedents for civilian control over that information. It was a black box. Democratic rule hadn¡¯t been around for long enough for such matters to come before the courts with any regularity.

    As for the revelation that the ¡®Sturml?ufer¡¯ were real, just with a different name, it was curious to me that Veronica focused on the name more than the context of their actions. She wasn¡¯t going to share her opinion on them with me unprompted so I filed it away for later investigation.

    I bought a ticket using my own money at the booth. The train wouldn¡¯t arrive for twenty minutes or so. We found a wooden bench on the platform and sat down to wait.

    ¡°You¡¯re really going to follow through on that threat.¡±

    ¡°Threat? I don¡¯t have anything to threaten you with. I¡¯ll hold on to your leg until you give in if you try to leave.¡±

    ¡°I doubt a refined lady would debase herself like that.¡±

    ¡°How would you know?¡± I responded, ¡°I¡¯m willing to do many things so long as they assist me in reaching my aims. Besides ¨C presuming you aren¡¯t lying about our relationship, we could call it your influence, passed down from your genes.¡±

    Veronica sighed wearily. She was wishing she never brought it up with me now. I kept my eyes glued to the various faces coming and going from the platform area. Most of the platform¡¯s users were businessmen and women travelling to and from work. Areas like these were made more reachable with the introduction of train lines, meaning a new class of commuters was being born as we spoke.

    Train platforms were decent places to slip into a crowd too - though spying on someone was harder. They were very linear and if there weren¡¯t enough bodies around to distract from your hawkish gaze, the target may notice. Killing a target here was a bad idea too since every platform was rammed from end to end with CCTV cameras. Here? Not a problem. They weren¡¯t invented yet.

    Travelling ¡®back in time¡¯ and seeing how life used to be, it was a small wonder that assassins weren¡¯t a more prevalent criminal element. I could get away with killings I¡¯d never dreamed of in my old life. It was almost a waste given that I had no financial incentive to go back to my usual ways. Durandia would probably bust a blood vessel too if she had them.

    ¡°What¡¯s got you so on edge?¡± Veronica asked ¨C drifting back towards her usual accent.

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping an eye out for any Scuncath who might be following us.¡±

    She leaned in, ¡°Following us? Listen, I run a tight ship while on the clock. The only way any of those cultist maniacs are going to know who I am is if they¡¯re inside my dispatch agency.¡±

    ¡°The WISD? It¡¯s entirely possible. The public was not aware that Thersyn Bradley was a Scuncath either until he was caught red-handed. Who is to say that there is not a similar sympathiser hiding in your ranks?¡±

    Veronica did not confirm my guess about the agency, ¡°We work in segments. All of that information is strictly controlled and only distributed to the people who need to hear it. A leaker would have a death wish if they gave it out. It wouldn¡¯t stay a secret for long.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a perfect summation of the Scuncath I¡¯ve seen thus far,¡± I observed, ¡°Is it so hard to imagine one giving their life for the cause to protect the rest?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t work in groups, not normally.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯re in a highly abnormal situation. There is a unifying figure bringing them together, and now they have the means to unleash some sort of chaos upon Walser through their actions.¡±

    My eyes met with a man further down the platform, and he quickly averted his gaze in an attempt to stop me from noticing. The woman standing next to him reacted too. I noted them down for later.

    Our conversation was drowned out by the arrival of our train. The rails squealed and steam bellowed. The commuters eagerly lined up by the doors and waited for it to come to a full stop. Once it did, a free-for-all broke out as they were pulled open and they tried their best to squeeze inside. Veronica was in no great hurry, and neither were my two new friends who were spying on us.

    When we did decide to move into one of the carriages, it was a pain finding a pair of open seats where we could face each other because of how long we waited.

    ¡°Why are you so obsessed with this?¡± Veronica murmured.

    ¡°Trust me. You¡¯ll regret it if we don¡¯t.¡±

    We did manage to find an open booth eventually. The benches themselves were the bare minimum, wooden planks laid out across iron brackets to form an uncomfortable curvature. The cabins were not insulated. I could hear every rumble of the engine and movement of the trucks below. My centre of gravity shifted back once the train started moving.

    The trip was going to take thirty minutes or so.

    Veronica moved back a step to a previous topic, ¡°If you knew everything about me, it would only hurt you.¡±

    ¡°From my perspective you¡¯ve already revealed the most important details. I hardly need to look to the WISD¡¯s operating procedure to understand what¡¯s going on here.¡±

    ¡°I only said what I said to try and keep you at arm¡¯s length, and there¡¯s no reason to hide the obvious. You¡¯re a smart girl.¡±

    If that was her intent - it didn''t work.

    While it would have been nice to enjoy the views of the rolling countryside beyond the glass window, I was still paranoid about the people who were spying on us on the platform. None of them were in the carriage with us at the moment, but it was a simple matter to stand up and navigate your way down each one.

    As I excepted, the door behind Veronica opened, and a familiar face peered through. I kept my eyes unfocused and away from the woman as she meandered her way down the aisle, struggling to keep her footing as the train passed over some bumpy terrain. She paused a few feet away from us and held on to one of the benches to keep herself steady.

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re so paranoid all the time.¡±

    I must have inherited my dramatic irony from her, because the exact moment those words sparked in her brain and leaped from her lips, the woman drew a dagger from her cloak and raised it into the air. I jumped forward and grabbed the front of Veronica¡¯s dress, pulling her up and out of the seat before it came down and embedded into her skull.

    I kicked the woman back down the aisle and got to my feet.

    ¡°If I wasn¡¯t sitting here, you would have died.¡±

    Veronica was not amused.

    ¡°I suppose that means you were correct.¡±

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Correct? I always assume the worst! Being wrong becomes a pleasant surprise.¡±

    The knife-wielding Scuncath was problematic because I hadn¡¯t delved into my trunk and grabbed my gun yet. I was expecting some more runup to the murder attempt, during which time I could slip into the bathroom with my bag and pull it out. The Scuncath didn¡¯t work like that. They were all action, all the time.

    There was a shrill scream that acted as the starting pistol, the other passengers on the carriage took notice and scrambled for the doors. It was actually to our benefit because they blocked the way for her friends to come and pile on in the fight.

    She switched targets and ran towards me, but Veronica was a step ahead. She leapt over the bench and got behind her. She hooked her arms beneath the assailant¡¯s armpits and lifted her off the ground. Her legs flailed as she tried to force her to let go, but Veronica was incredibly strong, far stronger than a cultist who could only fight using a knife.

    I stepped between her legs and delivered a jaw-cracking left hook. I swore that a tooth flew free from her mouth as her head snapped to the side, with a whip-cracking noise that even made Veronica wince. The woman went limp in her arms and dropped the knife - which I took for myself.

    ¡°Bloody hell! Where did that come from?¡±

    ¡°A good punch is all about positioning.¡±

    Veronica carelessly dumped the unconscious cultist into one of the booths so that she wouldn¡¯t get in our way. The commotion was still ongoing, but her friends were already pushing their way through the human blockade and coming for us.

    ¡°I really hope they don¡¯t have guns,¡± I complained.

    ¡°Hm? What happened to always assuming the worst?¡±

    Two of them finally broke through. It was the same two who I spied looking at us on the platform before. So much for their careful intelligence controls, they were already onto us somehow. The WISD had some leaks to plug, and fast. I gripped the knife tight and got ready for a difficult fight.

    "So, do you want to go first?"

    <hr>

    Eugene could feel the tension building in the air.

    It was exceedingly rare for the troubles of the outside world to slip through the cracks and infest Channery. The newspapers were the only real connection to the goings-on in the urban areas of the nation, and events occurred thick and fast out there. Eugene was not a fan of the national papers himself ¨C there was too much doom and gloom for his liking.

    The morning headlines were unusual in their unification of message. It was the singular topic of discussion across the town and outlying farm communities. An attack on a scale not seen since the darkest days of the civil war, with hundreds of victims being murdered by a marauding gang of killers across several hours the evening before. That would have been enough kindling to ignite the public¡¯s interest, but the victims of the raids were all affluent people.

    It was a who¡¯s who of powerful nobles. Walston-Carter, Abdah, Roderro, Escobarus, Rentree, and even one of the men in line for the throne from the Van Walser-Taryn cadet house. If it was intended to be a decapitation strike from a foreign adversary, then it was an effective one.

    This group collectively held the keys to many of the key industrial functions of the country, and those businesses would be paralyzed while their leadership was missing. In the fast-moving world of industrialisation, even a few weeks'' delay could turn a company¡¯s fortunes.

    The shock this news sent through the town would be bad enough on its own, but there was also something else. The visitors who arrived in town a few days before and cleared out every produce store they could find were starting to cause trouble. Channery was the friendliest town around and it was rare for anybody to propose an insular idea, but their behaviour was the fastest way to get into people¡¯s bad books.

    There was already talk of one confrontation at the tavern between a local and one of the tourists. Both men were collared by the local constable and forced to spend an evening in the drunk tank at the nearby jail so they could cool off.

    Meriden was worried, ¡°I really don¡¯t like the sound of what¡¯s happening in town, Eugene.¡±

    ¡°Samantha and I visited yesterday and there was nothing unusual happening then. It¡¯s just someone drinking too much and getting into a scrap.¡±

    ¡°But how often does that result in a fight? I can¡¯t remember the last time the constable had to arrest someone.¡±

    Eugene wanted to assure his wife that nothing bad was going to happen, but he was not convinced either. What good would such assurances be when he didn¡¯t believe in them himself? There was something very strange happening in Channery but he couldn¡¯t put his finger on what it was or why it unsettled him so. Ben and Tobias were happily going about their business without paying it any mind. Ignorance could be bliss so long as the consequences weren¡¯t dire.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always been of the opinion that a handful of constables isn¡¯t enough for a town like Channery,¡± Meriden held, ¡°The population has been growing rather quickly lately, and we¡¯re still dealing with numbers and funding like we had twenty years ago when everyone moved away to get jobs in the city!¡±

    ¡°There ¡®ain¡¯t enough money to go around it seems,¡± Eugene sighed, ¡°Same story from everyone I speak with at the market. They¡¯re all too interested in building big fancy railways that run from end to end instead of us little people.¡±

    ¡°You were singing those thing¡¯s praises a few years ago,¡± she observed.

    ¡°To a certain extent ¨C yes. It makes it easier for folks to move around, and the businesses like it too, easier than hauling everything on a horse and cart. You really have to wonder how many more of them they can build though.¡±

    Samantha came down the stairs while drying her hair with a towel, ¡°Do you want to use that hot water?¡±

    Meriden nodded, ¡°Leave it for now. I¡¯ll jump in soon.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and I was hearing some weird noises coming from the bottom of the pasture.¡±

    The window in the washroom was not installed perfectly, so sound often crept through along with a strong draft. Eugene had been promising to fix the problem for five years running by that point, with no end in sight.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be the cows getting restless again,¡± Eugene said.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like any noise the cows have ever made around me. It sounded to me like someone was messing with the gate.¡±

    If there was one thing that would make Eugene listen, it was the threat of someone rustling his animals while he was in the house. Eugene¡¯s obsession with the hypothetical crime was so strong that he kept his shotgun by the door so he could go chase them away. To date, Samantha had never once seen it actually happen. A predator may stumble across the henhouse or a dead carcass and make a mess, but not a human.

    The mere thought of getting to live out the fantasy was enough to coax him towards the doorway, where his coat was hanging from one of the hooks. ¡°I¡¯d better take a gander then. The last thing we need now is for some damn fool to take off with our livestock.¡±

    And just like that ¨C he was gone down the path with gun in hand.

    Samantha sighed and sat down at the table. She was only saying it so he could go out and check. She could never understand why he found the prospect so exciting. Cattle rustling was an incredibly rare crime. It was more common pre-industrialisation, but the live value of animals had plummeted in recent years making it not worth the effort to steal them.

    Even before that, Eugene had only experienced it once, when he himself was a young lad watching his Father work the land they now lived on. For one of the ¡®little guys,¡¯ exacting some form of justice onto people who wanted to do ill was a fulfilment of a long-standing fantasy. An urge that was shared by other farmers in the town too.

    Samantha was not going to carry on with that tradition. She had her fill of violence and then some from dealing with Maria, and all of the trouble that was attracted to her by chance and circumstance. To willingly put oneself in those situations was a personality she couldn¡¯t see herself getting along with. Eugene had even forgotten to close the door in his rush to confront the rustlers, allowing a cold breeze to roll through. Samantha jumped back up from her chair and moved across the dining room to close it before all of the heat escaped.

    Meriden turned away from the stove, ¡°Oh, thank you ¨C Samantha.¡±

    Standing in the footwell at the front, Samantha reached for the edge of the door but paused. Eugene was shouting at someone down the bottom of the garden. Her heart skipped a beat, a strong pulse of paranoia rushing through her veins. All of the recent events had conditioned her to react this way.

    Without asking her Mother for permission, Samantha hurried and laced up her boots, running through the door and down into the darkness. It was difficult to see what was going on all the way at the far end of the pasture by the road. She was guided only by the faint glimmer of a lantern that was calling out like a lighthouse¡¯s beacon.

    The muddy ground was treacherous, especially when she was wearing nothing but her evening clothes. Bumps and lumps were left languishing beneath the grass. She should have brought something to light her way, but it was too late to turn back now. She was so close to where Eugene had stopped.

    When her Father came into focus, she finally saw that two other men were jostling for a fight by the fence. Eugene was still holding his shotgun - so any confrontation with him was an inadvisable course of action.

    ¡°Get off my darn land before I get the constable up here!¡± he demanded.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Sam asked, skidding to a halt in the dirt.

    Eugene took a step back from the fence and got in front of her, ¡°Just some drunken fools making trouble where they¡¯re not wanted.¡±

    Samantha recognised them. She was certain that they were at the store where they dropped their off-season goods. Both men stunk of alcohol. It was enough to cut through the crisp smell of the cold air that surrounded them on all sides. They brayed and rocked against the wooden barrier like a pair of belligerent horses. They were trying to provoke her Father.

    ¡°Clear off!¡± Eugene demanded again, ¡°I¡¯m not moving from this spot until I see the arse end of both of you!¡±

    The man on the left was not going to leave because of his demands, ¡°Yeah, yeah ¨C keep running that big mouth, flapping those gums. We know where you live now, bastard, we¡¯ll be burning this farm to the ground before long!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try. You¡¯ll be dead before you hit the floor!¡±

    Samantha tugged on his jacket, ¡°Dad!¡±

    He waved his gun at them, ¡°Bugger off, the both of you. If I see you loitering by the fence again there will be trouble.¡±

    The men laughed and staggered down the road, bottles of empty booze in hand. Eugene may have come into this situation filled with thunder, but the threats they were making had a visible effect on his nerves. He followed them with his eyes as they descended down the hill and out of sight.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have come out here, Samantha.¡±

    ¡°I heard shouting. What were they doing?¡±

    ¡°Just being a pair of drunk arses,¡± he stressed, ¡°Trying to get through the gate and into the barn. They were too hammered to get that far.¡±

    Samantha did not like what she saw in his gaze, nor the subtle tremble of his hands against the barrel of the shotgun he wielded like a club. This was it. The moment when he collided with the reality of dealing with potentially violent people. There was no harsher form of cold shower. All of that fantasy withered into nothing. He¡¯d never say it, but he was not prepared to pull that trigger.

    She gently pulled him away from the fence and towards the house, ¡°Come on. You¡¯ll die of cold if you stay out here any longer.¡±

    With the lantern by her side, the return trip to the house was less treacherous than before. They kicked away their shoes and tried to push the confrontation to the back of their minds, but Eugene was still focused on the words he threw so glibly. It took a gutless coward of a man to make threats like those. The sheer gall of him to suggest arson in response to a verbal spat.

    Meriden stood with a stern expression and her hands planted firmly on her hips, ¡°What are you two up to? Was there someone at the gate?¡±

    ¡°A pair of drunks,¡± Eugene said dismissively, ¡°Nothing to worry about.¡±

    Meriden accepted his answer and left the room to attend to her other evening chores. Samantha was not so accommodating. What benefit did he gain from concealing the true nature of that confrontation from her?

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell her the truth?¡±

    ¡°It was the truth. A pair of drunks with flapping gums, that¡¯s all. I hear talk like that all the time. They just want to get into your head. None of them have the guts to actually follow through with it.¡±

    ¡°I feel like you missed some important details.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll do us no good having Meriden worry her head over that. Like I said, they aren¡¯t going to do anything on my watch. They¡¯ll be nursing those hangovers for so long that their stay here in town will be over before they can find the kindling.¡±

    Samantha was getting the sense that he was trying to convince himself first and foremost. She didn¡¯t object to his concern about them. It was natural for him to be focused on their health and the safety of their property.

    ¡°Maybe you should speak with the constable.¡±

    Eugene shook his head and said nothing. That was a signal that the discussion was over for the time being. Samantha returned to what she was doing before the confrontation and looked out of the window into the garden every so often. She could smell trouble in the air, and it was strong enough to overpower the cow manure.

 Chapter 84

    It soon became obvious to me that there were no guards or policemen on the train with us. The immense panic that was sparked by the initial knife attack should have sent them running, but there was no such police presence. Just me, Veronica, and a gang of extremely murderous cultists who somehow knew everything she was trying to do.

    The biggest problem wasn¡¯t the imminent threat of being stabbed, beaten or shot ¨C it was what was happening with our expert at the University. Veronica was already on her way to that location when she stopped by our estate. If they could identify and attack her, it was likely that the source also knew who he was and the information he possessed.

    I¡¯d have to ask her about it after we were finished with the attempted murder.

    The man charging at me with bloodlust in his eyes was not deterred by the knife I held in my hand. He was here for one reason, and that was to stop us from getting to Genta and figuring out what their master plan was. If he died in the process, it was of no concern to the leader of their sect. He would consider it a meaningful way to leave the mortal coil.

    He was holding a hammer, the type you¡¯d use to hit nails. While it wasn¡¯t the most effective weapon if you needed instant results ¨C a good strike could knock someone out cold. I already knew exactly how he was going to utilise it. He was going to hoist it into the air and try to crack my skull open with it.

    The space I had to manoeuvre in was small. The benches on both sides took up most of the room in the carriage. If you moved to one side it would keep you from moving back and forth without leaping over them. With the train still in motion that would all but guarantee a mistake. It was not a risk worth taking.

    Luckily ¨C none of these Scuncath knew the first thing about fighting effectively. They were an unruly mob of religious extremists picked from the crowd and told to cause as much mayhem as possible. Any level of organized resistance would pose a serious challenge to their plans. They made a serious error in messing with me.

    The swing was way too slow. It was almost effortless for me to dip into the aisle and avoid his attack. I was scornful; who did he think he was kidding with a half-hearted attack like that? I kicked off the bench and grabbed his long hair between my fingers, pulling him back until he lost his footing.

    The grease sticking to my fingers was not the best feeling, but having the knife pulled across his neck until it hit the artery was probably worse. The violent spew of blood that followed took even me by surprise.

    Blood gushed from the opened vein, coating the window to my left until it was impossible to see the outside world. While I held the back of the man¡¯s head and let him bleed out, I slashed at the other attacker and caught him across the chest, leaving a long bloody gash in my wake. Knives were good for many things but they made one hell of a mess.

    With a new neck hole opened for my friend and his body going limp from anaemia, I thrust his head forward and crashed it through the window. Shards of blood-stained glass rained down onto his dead body. Veronica finally finished screwing around and drew her gun, shooting the other man in the chest and putting him down. To say that she was perturbed by the incredibly violent display would be an understatement.

    After a few false starts, she finally came out with it; ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with you.¡±

    ¡°You say that after gunning someone down?¡± I replied. I¡¯d somehow killed him without getting any blood on my clothes. Small victories.

    ¡°Slashing his neck, painting the window and then throwing him through it is a little more theatrical than shooting a man.¡±

    I held out my arms and laughed, ¡°I¡¯ll allow them to stab you through the head next time, shall I? Though, given your thick-headedness, Goddess knows whether it would be sharp enough to pierce it.¡±

    Veronica saw me as a stupid little girl playing with toys. There was a barrier between what she saw and her willingness to believe. Sure, I out-fought her and pulled a gun, but was I ready to use it on another person? There were no barriers now. She understood that I was not boasting when I said I could dole out harm in the same ways that she could.

    ¡°We¡¯d better go before they see the mess,¡± I concluded. I reached into the overhead compartment and grabbed my trunk from the rack.

    Veronica growled, ¡°How many of these lunatics are there?¡±

    ¡°Two less than before...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m being serious.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s eyes turned to the unconscious woman on the floor. She reached down and dragged her back up onto one of the seats, slapping her several times across the face until she finally sputtered back to life. She wished she¡¯d stayed asleep because Veronica immediately pressed the barrel of her gun square against her forehead.

    ¡°Talk. How many of you are on this train?¡±

    The Scuncath¡¯s reaction was less than helpful. The distress she felt about her two dead comrades was clear. She screamed and struggled, but Veronica only responded to her plight by cracking her around the head with the butt of her gun. Dazed and unable to escape, she was again subjected to more questions.

    ¡°How many of you are there?¡±

    ¡°F-Fifteen.¡±

    That was a lot more than I anticipated, but where were they? All hell had broken loose yet they were nowhere to be seen.

    She flashed her damaged teeth, ¡°But it does not matter. You will perish here, and there shall be none who can stand in our way. From the very moment you boarded this train ¨C your fate was sealed, your death warrant signed.¡±

    The entire train lurched forward suddenly, almost causing Veronica to lease her bead on the hostage. I didn¡¯t like that one bit. They were screwing with the engine.

    ¡°I hope they don¡¯t make us stop. We have a schedule to keep,¡± Veronica complained.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want these Scuncath driving the bloody train. They¡¯re going to make us crash - stopping would be for the best.¡±

    Veronica had an expression that would be more appropriate for a minor inconvenience, like struggling to find a parking spot while visiting the mall, or stubbing her toe on the corner of a table. It was a type of casual disdain that felt out of step with the mayhem going on around us. The train was getting faster as we spoke.

    Veronica hoisted the cultist to her feet, and with a mighty hip toss, threw her clean through another one of the windows. She flipped twice over in the air, before coming to a violent landing on the embankment by the side of the railway. If she survived that, she was going to have more than a few broken bones as a result.

    ¡°I hate people who talk like that.¡±

    She did it because she annoyed her? She was trying to browbeat me a few seconds before for slicing some guy¡¯s neck!

    ¡°If they know who you are, what about Genta?¡±

    Veronica exhaled and leaned back against the carriage¡¯s wall, ¡°Genta has already had a run-in with these Scuncath. Part of the reason I wish to speak with him is because they stole something extremely valuable from him and the University. It''s called The Book of Cambry.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°His family¡¯s life work, the most comprehensive collection of scholarly notes on ancient Walserian rituals, religion, worship and demonology that there is. You can guess why they stole it.¡±

    ¡°And they didn¡¯t want to kill him?¡±

    Veronica shrugged, ¡°Allegedly not. How and why? That is a mystery even to me. They certainly don¡¯t have any issue with killing everyone else they meet. They must have a reason.¡±

    ¡°This is a mess. Someone¡¯s leaking information to anyone willing to listen. They already know that you¡¯re coming to try and stop them.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t help them. I¡¯ve never once failed in a job I¡¯ve been given, and I don¡¯t intend to start now.¡±

    I fished my gun from the trunk and slipped it into the holster beneath my skirt. I should have never parted with the pistol in the first place. The law of dramatic irony demanded that a fight happen once it was removed from my reach. Veronica kept an eye on the door to the next carriage over.

    ¡°Still no sign of them. They¡¯re waiting for us to move.¡±

    ¡°I can hardly refuse an earnest invitation like that,¡± I said, ¡°My Father would die of shock if he learned of it.¡±

    Veronica pulled the door aside between the carriages, allowing a strong bluster of wind to cut through and threaten to flip my skirt. The countryside whipped past at a worrying speed as the train gathered momentum. Our only hope lay in the hands of the signal operators who were stationed along the line to prevent accidents from occurring.

    Veronica got into a stance and steadied herself next to the door. She pulled it open and prepared to fire, but what awaited us inside was far more horrifying than a gang of armed cultists ready to fight.

    ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯s name is that horrendous thing!¡±

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    It was almost impossible to describe with words alone. While we were busy handling the three spies and getting our weapons ready, they were preparing a dark ritual. A large blood-stained circle had been painted onto the floor of the carriage, and several dead bodies spoke to the brutal massacre that followed once they got their hands on the passengers.

    One of them had been transformed into a disgusting form, one that threatened to make my war-weary stomach turn. It was as if a bloodhound had sprouted from within the poor man¡¯s body. A vicious head filled with gnarled teeth emerged from his mouth. Legs sprouted from his ribcage. A long tail slithered against the wooden floor. The beast was covered in a thick layer of gore. It was disfigured. Its mouth was held open, revealing a black hole lined with far too many teeth.

    It was huge, even larger than the dead human it wore like an obscene veil. Yellow eyes filled with nothing but malice looked at us, and it took off in a sprint so fast that it threatened to be upon us within moments. Veronica slammed the door shut and looked to her left, where a ladder allowed access to the train¡¯s roof.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go up!¡±

    I didn¡¯t argue with her. I was completely shell-shocked by the horrendous creature that was now gallivanting around the train like a wrecking ball. If I had any doubts about the legitimacy of their demon-summoning ways, they were now firmly laid to rest.

    I followed behind as she scampered up the metal rods and hefted herself up onto the roof of the carriage. There was a slight slope on either side, which made our already unsteady footing even more treacherous. As soon as I started my ascent, the beast crashed through the door and kept going, bursting through the second and disappearing out of sight.

    ¡°What the bloody hell is that?¡± I yelled again.

    ¡°I believe it¡¯s a minor demon. It didn¡¯t take them long to exploit Cambry¡¯s book!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even think demons were real, and you¡¯re telling me that they¡¯re summoning them in broad daylight?¡±

    Veronica nodded, ¡°Imagine how much worse it¡¯ll be if they have time to prepare something more elaborate!¡±

    The dog was back, poking its head from the carriage and looking my way. I drew my gun and fired several shots into it, but the damnable fiend didn¡¯t even flinch from the impact. It was seemingly impervious to such simple means.

    ¡°I hate this bastard thing already!¡±

    ¡°Run!¡±

    Veronica grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the way as it leapt up into the air and came crashing down where I was kneeling. That was far too close for comfort, which meant that I couldn¡¯t hold my own rescue over her as leverage anymore. The wind stabbed at us like a fan of knives, pushing us back and leaving a cold sting in its wake. I could hear the demon rumbling behind us, gnashing teeth and howling in outrage.

    It looked like a monster from the deepest, darkest pits of hell ¨C but according to Veronica, it was only a lesser demon. They could get worse, and they would get worse if we didn¡¯t stop the Scuncath soon.

    The roof of the train was just as treacherous as what awaited down below. It barrelled down the line and passed through into a thick canopy of overhanging trees. The branches could easily knock us from the roof if we weren¡¯t careful. We stayed low and did our best to avoid being whipped by them. The demon was not so concerned with self-preservation, it laughed in the face of those puny twigs and charged at full speed to try and murder us.

    I turned to face it and fired more speculative shots, hoping that one of the bullets would find a weakness in its armour and strike it down, but such hopes were dashed as they harmlessly bounced off of the tough hide it was covered in. The movement of the carriage was too severe for me to aim accurately and hit it in the opening where its mouth should have been.

    I was out of ammunition in the magazine anyway. I holstered the gun and held on tight to my trunk. The monster leapt into the air once more and clawed at me, but using the suitcase as a makeshift shield turned it into a glancing blow. The force of it alone was enough to send me skidding into Veronica¡¯s back. She scrambled for purchase and eventually found a handhold, but I was not so lucky. I found myself sliding down the curved edge and off of the roof, saved at the last second by a railing that ran along each side of the carriage.

    I was being beset from all sides by new threats. The trees were dangerously close to wiping me out, the ground sped along beneath promising broken legs and cracked bones, and now the cultists inside of the carriage could see me helplessly hanging from the roof like a reed in the wind.

    ¡°Hold this!¡±

    I threw the trunk into Veronica¡¯s arms and strengthened my grip using both hands. The cultists were watching with bemusement. My plight must have seemed very entertaining from the safety of the inside. I decided that sharing the joy with them was a better idea than facing down the demon again.

    I started to swing on the bar by pushing off from the window. I waited for the perfect opportunity to present itself when my back was clear. Once I was sure that I wouldn¡¯t get wiped out by a passing tree, I put my back into it and shattered the cheap window with my boots. The cultist standing there with a smile on his face learned the importance of due diligence, as I flew through it and took him down to the ground with my legs squeezing on his neck.

    Knife out. I brought it down through his eye socket and killed him in one blow. There was a sudden scramble from the rest to arm themselves and get revenge, but I wasn¡¯t going to let them. I pulled the knife free and threw it at the nearest gun-toting foe, embedding it into their forehead and sending them crumpling to the floor.

    I hopped over the bench and took their gun, a pistol, from the floor. A loud blast rang out, a stray burst of shotgun pellets hitting the wall next to me and sending wood shards fluttering into the air. I acted on instinct. This was a terrible situation with even worse odds of survival, but I couldn¡¯t stop and think about it now.

    My mind worked methodically. The first priority was ridding the carriage of everyone holding a gun. These narrow quarters were the perfect kill box. There was nowhere to hide and it was only by the grace of the out-of-control train that the shotgun missed me. Most of the Scuncath were holding blunt weapons. There were two knives and two more guns.

    One of the guns was a rifle at the front door. He was not going to be able to hit me without shooting through his friends. The second was a revolver in the hands of a panicked woman to my right. She was fumbling with the hammer. It was single-action, with no room for error.

    I moved. I rolled over the bench and barely dodged a strike from one of the clubs. I took aim, but the woman finally remembered how to use the damn gun and fired back at me first. The bullet missed, but it was close. I returned the favour by shooting her in the chest.

    One of the club-wielders tried to smother me by leaping onto my body and pinning me down. I dodged to the side and found myself sitting on the bench, with him on his hands and knees. I came down with the heel of my boot and smashed his head against the opposite seat, knocking him out cold.

    Veronica had somehow navigated her way down to the ground floor again by evading the demon. The door was thrown open. Her hands grabbed the rifle and pulled it against the cultist¡¯s neck, choking them out and rendering them unable to provide covering fire. This struggle would continue for thirty seconds while I grappled with the rest of them.

    They were swarming now. The numbers were in their favour, and in their eyes, all they needed was a quick and messy end to this fight. One lucky blow would end it all and give them the victory they sought. I dodged more attacks and kept myself atop the bench to even the height difference.

    Veronica¡¯s captive was putting up a better fight than the others, elbowing her in the gut and successfully gaining enough leverage to push her away. Veronica¡¯s arms waved as she teetered dangerously close to falling from the front platform and beneath the wheels. The rifleman turned on her with his gun raised, but I wasn¡¯t going to let that happen.

    I snapped my fingers and broke it. He pulled the trigger, causing the bullet to misfire and send pieces of shrapnel into his hand. He screamed in pain, while Veronica gladly took advantage and knocked him out by slamming his head into the wall. That took a lot out of me. The combination of range and precision sapped most of my magical energy.

    Veronica was now free to wreak her own brand of havoc from the flank. It turned into a violent, all-out melee as we dispatched the last of the cultists with guns, knives and fists. Mother dearest thinned the ones swarming me with a few shots from her pistol. I snuck in two more of my own.

    Just when we were about to move on to the last few gathering at the other end, we were interrupted by the arrival of the lesser demon. The roof above us sagged inwards as a result of its heavy weight and clawed feet. I moved out of the way with milliseconds to spare before it could crush me. The cultists cheered its arrival on the scene, but that only served to attract its attention.

    Veronica pulled on my jacket while the dog performed an about-face and moved to chow down on those who believed it was a messenger from god. The door closed behind me at the exact moment its savage teeth came down on one of their legs. The screams were more than illustrative enough from there.

    ¡°How are going to kill that bloody thing? It¡¯s bulletproof!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know ¨C and did Damian never teach you good manners? Your language is terrible!¡±

    ¡°You can wash my mouth with soap if we get out of here alive!¡±

    ¡°We have to stop the train. We can worry about the demon once we do that.¡±

    I grabbed my trunk from where she¡¯d left it and followed her lead through the next three carriages, which were empty of any further foes. That demon wouldn¡¯t be satiated for long. It wasn¡¯t going to stop rampaging until everything in its sight was dead.

    When we reached the front of the train it was evident why the engine was running out of control. One of the cultists had stabbed the engineers to death and left them in a pool of blood by the door. Nobody was driving the thing!

    ¡°Do you know how to drive a train?¡± Veronica inquired.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± I snapped back, ¡°There has to be a brake here somewhere!¡±

    I left the trunk with Veronica and shimmied around the coal cart. A small platform was built into the construction of the train, allowing the engineers to manoeuvre around the sides without having to climb on top of the unstable pile. I was full of confidence in finding a solution until I actually came face to face with the controls.

    ¡°I have no idea what any of this is,¡± I muttered.

    It was dense, incomprehensible, a tangle of bronze and gauges and pipes. There were levers and buttons and valves, none of which were labelled in a manner designed to help a moron layman like me. It was like running headfirst into a brick wall. I didn¡¯t know where to start!

    But I had to start, and quick. If I didn¡¯t do something, the train would inevitably run into an obstacle that would kill us all. These cultists weren¡¯t here to play. They were going to stop us and die trying.

    ¡°Lever! It¡¯s probably a lever, right?¡±

    I reached out for the first one I could find and pulled on it. The engine roared even louder in response. I slammed it back the other way and presumed that the engine would slow down in time. Why the hell would the big red lever not be the brake? I was starting to lose my head. I tried fiddling with several other knobs and handles to no avail. Veronica was yelling at me from the carriage.

    ¡°We¡¯re close to the station, you have to stop it now!¡±

    The countryside was giving way to a less-developed urban area. Houses flew past in a blur, and many onlookers were met with the sight of a panicked girl assuming the controls of an out-of-control steam engine. I considered using the last of my magic to break one of the components, but I decided against it. I didn¡¯t know which piece to break, which was the same problem I was having now.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t want to die in a train accident!¡±

    It was a last-ditch effort. I reached out and grabbed a small wooden handle that I¡¯d neglected to try and pulled on it with all of my strength. I almost smashed my head against one of the gauges as the train squealed in protest at the sudden change in momentum. We kept going, flying through the station at the end of the line and sliding through into the railyard that lay beyond, sparks flying and the contents of each carriage being thrown hell for leather.

    I kept a tight grip ¨C so tight that my hands turned white from the pressure - until I was absolutely sure that the train was done moving. My blundering operation had done the trick somehow, starving the engine of heat and putting on the brakes. I staggered back around the coal car and met up with Veronica, who was hanging from one of the railings with wide eyes and ruined hair.

    ¡°You almost killed us anyway!¡±

    ¡°I stopped it, didn¡¯t I? You couldn¡¯t do it either, you didn¡¯t even try!¡±

    I was so shaken from stopping the train that I failed to notice the elephant in the room until it crashed through the side of the carriage with a dead body between its jaws.

    ¡°Oh good! Our new friend is still here.¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°We¡¯d better kill it before it starts eating people in the town as well.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m open to suggestions.¡±

    The demon sniffed the air and turned on us, having caught our scent in the wind.

    ¡°I believe we should start by running away.¡±

    I took my suitcase and nodded, ¡°Agreed. After you.¡±

 Chapter 85

    The railyard was not the ideal location to make our stand, but there were no other options available to us now. The demon was too fast for us to run away from forever. It would outpace and outlast us like a hunter. While dying in a train accident would be a humiliating conclusion to the story, it was slightly more respectable than being turned into dog food.

    We were surrounded on both sides by other trains that had been left for assignment onto lines across the country. We were in a kill box, with a bloodthirsty monster nipping at our heels. With every second that passed I came closer to feeling the sting of its fangs digging into my back and dragging me to the ground. I could hear it, but I daredn¡¯t turn around and see how close it really was.

    Soon we came upon the turntable. The yard¡¯s main area was gigantic and perhaps overkill for a town of this size. A two-story warehouse circled around the back, while several separate rail lines converged into one so that the engines could be turned and stored in each of the doorways.

    For us, it was the only place we had left to go. Leading this demon into the town was a recipe for disaster. It would start killing everyone it could see, and firearms weren¡¯t enough to pierce whatever otherworldly hide its skin was made from.

    The beast leapt in a last-ditch effort to catch one of us, but we managed to squeeze through the employee entrance before it could reach us. The brick wall buckled under the strain, coming apart at the edges and foretelling future problems if we trusted it to hold the demon back. The beast roared, sending spittle and blood flying, before backing away to try again.

    My head whipped in every direction, ¡°We need something big enough to kill that demon, and fast.¡±

    I was not optimistic about finding anything of use in a railyard¡¯s warehouse.

    ¡°They don¡¯t keep gun carriages in here anymore,¡± Veronica panted.

    ¡°Gun carriages?¡±

    She chuckled, ¡°Nothing, just a civil war plan that they tried ¨C way before your time.¡±

    We couldn¡¯t sit around and wait for it to murder us. I led Veronica through the building and away from the damaged wall before it came back. My frustration grew as we found nothing but tools, discarded parts, and the occasional half-constructed carriage or engine held up on jacks. This was an old-school workshop where all of the hard graft was done by hand. There were no industrial machines or dangerous areas to lead it into.

    The sound of the wall collapsing echoed through the garage. We ducked behind a workbench and took a moment to catch our breath. There had to be something we could use, something that would turn the tables and put this demon to rest.

    ¡°Did you use magic earlier?¡± Veronica whispered.

    ¡°On the rifle, yes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like that. I felt it, but I wrote it off as an accident.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t teach that kind of magic to students. I did some extracurricular learning and discovered nihility magic. A snap of my fingers can destabilise whatever I can see. Very effective against delicate firearms that need their components in working order.¡±

    Veronica smirked, ¡°That sounds pretty amazing to me. Could you use it on a person?¡±

    I¡¯d considered it once or twice before, but it was ultimately a less efficient way of shooting them with a gun, which also exhausted my physical energy in the process. It would be perfect for a discrete kill though. There were veins and organs in the body that could go wrong without warning, after all.

    ¡°I can¡¯t use it on that demon. I don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like on the inside. I might waste my shot and collapse from overexertion. It works by saturating a small area with a huge concentration of energy.¡±

    ¡°Limited use...¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put my trust into it as an answer, is what I¡¯m saying.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to. If that isn¡¯t worth the attempt, then what else can we do?¡±

    I peered over the edge of our hiding spot and saw movement between the cracks of the carriage in front of us. It was in the building and stalking around the place to try and find us. The smell of oil was thankfully strong enough to make our scents less obvious.

    Could I trust her to do what I asked?

    This was the perfect window of opportunity for her to see me off. I didn¡¯t have a good read on how much she cared for me as her supposed daughter. If she was willing to leave the estate for so long and stick to her duty as an intelligence officer, was it a sign of protectiveness or rejection?

    There wasn¡¯t enough time for me to decide or find out now. This demon was going to kill both of us if we didn¡¯t act quickly. Veronica was the only ¡®resource¡¯ I could rely on now that the guns had proven ineffective.

    ¡°That carriage over there is suspended from the roof,¡± I whispered, ¡°If it comes down on top of that demon...¡±

    ¡°It might exert enough force to kill it.¡±

    I popped the trunk open and grabbed an extra magazine.

    ¡°Your legs are longer than mine. I need you to lead it there and get out of the way once I shoot it down.¡±

    ¡°Trying to get rid of me already?¡±

    ¡°Why would I do that? You¡¯re the only one who knows anything about what¡¯s happening here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m joking.¡±

    ¡°Well save it for a more appropriate time.¡±

    Veronica huffed, ¡°So uptight! Are you sure that Damian was the one looking after you?¡±

    I ignored her snide comments and approached the carriage in front of us. There was a ladder that led onto the roof, and a path I could follow to reach the balcony that looked out over the entire warehouse floor. I could hit the chains holding the heavy metal undercarriage from there. I kept my head down and my ears focused on the sound of the demon¡¯s claws scraping against the concrete.

    Veronica didn¡¯t move from her spot until she was certain that I was ready to go. She took off into a sprint and started moving down the aisle, making enough noise to catch its attention while I aimed the chains above my head. This was a workplace accident waiting to happen ¨C and that served me just fine.

    The problem was making it fall at the exact moment I needed it to. Four different loops were holding it aloft, and I couldn¡¯t predict which one would make the carriage come down. Was it already on the tipping point, or did I need to shoot three of them?

    There was some leeway with the length of the undercarriage being what it was, but hitting the chains was another matter. They were thick enough to hold up a heavy weight, but thin enough to make shooting them exceedingly difficult. The natural sway of my hands made keeping a bead on them tricky.

    I had to focus on what was in front of me. I took a deep breath and laser-focused on the task. If I couldn¡¯t do this, then there was no chance of us killing the demon and getting out of here, and if that happened we¡¯d never find my Father. Everything was riding on this. I worked better under pressure ¨C so I piled it on.

    Veronica, meanwhile, was putting her leg muscles to the ultimate test trying to keep away from the demon. The carriages provided brief refuge and allowed her to dip between the different aisles and open a gap. She would leap through the doors and come out on the other side, wait for it to track her down, and do it all over again.

    She couldn¡¯t do that forever. Every so often the demon would get frustrated and force its way through the wooden housing, ripping it to shreds and removing another escape route. Veronica took her time getting into the correct position. She charged down the row and passed beneath the hanging trap. I pulled the trigger but missed my first shot, luckily, I was able to correct my aim and hit it the second time.

    One of the four chains unravelled and the entire thing started to list to one side, but it did not fall. The demon charged through the target area none the worse for wear. One chain was not enough.

    ¡°Again!¡±

    Veronica knew she was on a tight time limit. She returned a minute after that. I fired again, hitting a chain on the opposite side to keep it from sliding down into an unwanted spot. I could tell that it was almost about to go. The third time was the charm.

    ¡°Again!¡±

    Veronica didn¡¯t screw around for the last one. I steadied my aim and tuned out the noise. She ran, with the blood-hungry demon hot on her tail. I could imagine the sense of panic she was feeling. She passed under the undercarriage one last time. I unloaded a trio of rounds into the last chain.

    The entire arrangement unravelled as the weight on one end accumulated, until they finally gave way under the stress. Veronica slid from beneath it and left the demon stranded as the entire thing came down from above and crushed it into the concrete with a sickening, and very bloody, splat. Bones broke on impact, its legs unable to support the immense weight of the metal truck.

    The noise was incredible, enough to half-deafen anyone standing in proximity to it. There was no doubt in my mind that some of the workers would come to investigate if we didn¡¯t make ourselves sparse quickly. Dust and metal flakes flew up into the air and blinded me. I leaned over the edge of the balcony and breathed a sigh of relief. That did it.

    As the smoke cleared, Veronica dusted herself off and looked up at me with a frown.

    ¡°Cutting it close there, Maria.¡±

    I walked back down the steps and approached the almost unrecognizable body that now lay beneath the half-built carriage. It was even more hideous up close and personal. It was a stomach-churning creature, with eyes and teeth in all the places they shouldn¡¯t have been. There were still visible elements of the human they sacrificed to create it.

    ¡°Did this monster grow out of his body?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Genta should have the answers. He¡¯s been studying demons for longer than you¡¯ve been alive.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not impressive. I¡¯m thirteen.¡±

    ¡°The point is ¨C he¡¯s been doing it longer and with less interference than anyone else. The government decided that a closer look at how they worked would be better for security reasons. Looks like their gamble didn¡¯t pay off.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that yet. Jumping to conclusions before we see the outcome is how important information is suppressed when it¡¯s most needed.¡±

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    ¡°If you say so,¡± Veronica responded. She wasn¡¯t convinced, but it was understandable given that Genta¡¯s research was now being used to summon horrible demons like this from beyond the veil.

    ¡°It¡¯s a shame though...¡±

    ¡°It is?¡±

    She laughed and kicked its head with the tip of her boot, ¡°There¡¯s no way that my boss is going to let me put a demon on my kill list. I wonder if I can beg them for a raise?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s leave before the police come to investigate,¡± I insisted. The demon was without a doubt dead as a dodo. Organs and entrails were spewed outwards onto the floor like an impressionist painting. All of that effort was to kill one low-level demon. Veronica was right, letting the Scuncath prepare a bigger ritual was not an acceptable outcome. They were nigh invulnerable.

    ¡°I can show them my badge if they ask,¡± Veronica revealed.

    ¡°You have a badge?¡±

    ¡°Yes, enough to get by a cordon or get the heat off of my back. I don¡¯t like using it. It attracts too much attention to what we do, and my boss would have my head if a leak happened.¡±

    ¡°They already know who you are.¡±

    Veronica frowned, ¡°Oh, I almost forgot.¡±

    ¡°We should get to Genta before they think twice about letting him live.¡±

    We exited the warehouse and looked across the way to the train. The police were already swarming it, retrieving bodies and taking witness statements from the residents. It was unlikely that any of the other passengers survived once the Scuncath started their rampage. The signs were obvious as to who was responsible, so we slipped away from the scene and headed to the University, which was a short walk from the train station.

    The town, Cernbrak, was defined by the University and the institutions that sprouted from it. It was a neatly kept and high-class neighbourhood, with well-maintained midrise buildings and plenty of greenery. It was the model of a carefully designed urban area, established by accident long before that kind of planning knowledge became widespread.

    Veronica remained in a disquieting silence during the trip. She was digesting the prior battle, and the sight of me getting up close and personal with those cultists. It was far from what she expected when I insisted on coming along.

    I was fairly shaken up too. That entire sequence of events was unlike any job I¡¯d done before. Fighting in close proximity against insane odds, being chased by a demon, and nearly getting my head ripped off by a passing tree while hanging from a speeding train. The adrenaline was still racing around my body. I was shaking.

    ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s still here? The sun went down half an hour ago.¡±

    Veronica finally spoke again, ¡°The one thing that everyone I spoke with said about him, was that Genta Cambry is a workaholic. If not for the campus closing at nine o¡¯clock sharp, he¡¯d be in the lab every night working until he collapsed. They had to drag him off of the premises once because he refused to leave until he was done.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I see.¡±

    ¡°And I told the faculty that it was police business in a letter a few days ago. They should let us through.¡±

    The University building we were seeking was off the beaten path. It was across the road from the main campus, tucked away between a pair of commercial properties and marked only with a plaque by the front door. Veronica didn¡¯t have to flash her badge or use her charm, because nobody was watching it for intruders.

    ¡°Shows how much they respect his work if they¡¯ve bundled him into a building like this,¡± I commented.

    ¡°Being pushed into a broom closet would be considered a prestigious position here. Tenure at the Walser University is highly coveted, from the main building to the farthest extremities. They have their pick of every expert and scholar the world over.¡±

    ¡°You know a lot about this place.¡±

    ¡°I always research where I¡¯m going before I arrive. Preparation is half of my job.¡±

    Veronica stopped by the empty reception desk and studied one of the signs drilled into the wall. There were several departments located within this building, but the one we were looking for was called the ¡®Walserian Common History Department.¡¯

    ¡®Common History¡¯ was a strange way of saying domestic folklore and practice. They were a subdivision of the larger national and international history wings. Those two teams got big, fancy rooms on the main campus. Veronica led me up the steps and onto the second floor, where a narrow hallway led into each room.

    Veronica knocked on the door thrice and awaited a response.

    ¡°Come in!¡±

    What a whirlwind experience this was turning out to be. We were only twenty minutes removed from almost being eaten by a demon, and now we were changing gears and asking this guy about the book they stole to summon it. Veronica was going to do all of the talking, so I stepped back and remained by the door so she could handle it.

    When we stepped through, it became evident at first glance that Genta was not being inundated with requests for assistance or participation. If anything ¨C it looked as if he¡¯d been living in this small room for a year without going outside. There was a kettle, a stove, dirty dishes and piles of personal items wherever I looked. This was not the office of a collaborative team.

    Genta himself was too busy scribbling down notes onto a chalkboard to give us any mind, at least not until Veronica cleared her throat and forced him to turn around.

    Veronica showed him her badge, ¡°Doctor Cambry, I¡¯m Veronica. I¡¯d like to speak with you about the recent incident here at the University.¡±

    Genta snapped his fingers several times in a repetitive rhythm before speaking.

    ¡°Ah! You¡¯re the fellow who sent me that letter a few days ago! I¡¯m Doctor Genta Cambry. The pleasure is all mine.¡±

    His voice ducked and rose with an unusual candour. His face was overly expressive. I could read him like an open book with the way his brow contorted with each thought that fired off in his head. His neurotic behaviour was not aligned with his outward appearance. He was well trimmed, with black swept hair and a clean shave.

    He noticed me hovering by the door but didn¡¯t comment as he awaited Veronica¡¯s first inquiry.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t get to see the report about the robbery, but I¡¯m correct in guessing that the Scuncath came here and stole the book during the evening?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I was the only one working at the time. A group of three entered the building and burst into my office here. They threatened to kill me if I didn¡¯t show them where it was being kept.¡±

    ¡°And where was it being held?¡±

    ¡°Not in here. Valuable research materials are stored in a secure room in the cellar. All of the campus buildings have one. You need a key to get through the door, and then each lockbox is closed with a password that only the University fellows know. I don¡¯t have the foggiest idea as to how they got their hands on the key. There are only a few of them and the managers keep their location a secret. I have to ask for permission to read my own work.¡±

    ¡°And you agreed to those conditions?¡±

    ¡°Not me, my Father. The monarchy wanted any and all books of that sort destroyed while he was still actively working on it three decades ago. One of the Van Walsers was a man of learning and the head patron of this University. He offered a refuge for the book, so long as it was kept in a secure place and what was inside was used for scholarly purposes.¡±

    ¡°So, they knew who you were and that you had the password to the lock box, they also possessed one of the keys? Are the people who managed those keys accounted for?¡±

    ¡°Thankfully. The police went around and visited all of them. They were unharmed.¡±

    ¡°They must have stolen it then,¡± Veronica murmured.

    Her gaze hardened somewhat, and the reaction from Genta was immediate. He waved his hands in a flurried motion, ¡°I-I already gave the police my statement about what happened to my book. I thought that there was nothing more to share.¡±

    Veronica took a seat at the table, intentionally making herself look smaller to control the direction of the conversation.

    ¡°While the theft of the book is a pressing matter ¨C my colleagues at the department have another set of questions they¡¯d like to ask you, ones that are more your area of expertise. I¡¯m not responsible for finding the book.¡±

    Genta adjusted his glasses using his index finger, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t follow.¡±

    ¡°The Scuncath who stole the book have also launched a series of kidnappings across the state. It¡¯s too sophisticated for a group like that. They want to do something with those people - and with your family¡¯s book. I want to know what it is.¡±

    Genta was even more nervous knowing that; ¡°Kidnapped people? I presume they must be using them as sacrifices.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. They have no trouble with killing as they please. So what did you tell them to make them leave you alone?¡± Veronica inquired, with an edge to her voice that made it clear that not answering was no longer an option.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°These Scuncath have shown themselves capable of incredible violence. They maim, kill, torture and steal wherever and whenever they please. It defies rational explanation that you were allowed to live once they found where you¡¯d hidden the book. What did you say to them? What did you offer?¡±

    Genta averted his eyes, ¡°I didn¡¯t offer them anything. Everything worth knowing was inside that book.¡±

    ¡°I highly doubt that.¡±

    Genta thought about it for a moment before speaking with a lowered tone of voice.

    ¡°Are you the only ones here?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And can you promise me that this never leaves this room?¡±

    ¡°That is within my authority, yes. Off the record.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a reason why they didn¡¯t want to kill me. I had to explain it to them, but once they heard what it was ¨C the person in charge stopped them before they could murder me. I swear, I saw my entire life flashing before my eyes! I was babbling, telling them whatever it took.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not questioning your sincerity. What was it that stopped them?¡±

    Genta finally got to the point, ¡°The book is special. My Grandfather, the one who started it, imbued it with a unique contractual curse. He was always afraid that something like this would happen ¨C so he installed a backup to those pages to ensure that it never fell into the wrong hands.¡±

    Well, it didn¡¯t do a very good job...

    ¡°Whatever you write into that book becomes bound by the curse. If the text is ruined - the memory of those words is erased from your mind. If someone burned it, everything I know about the Horr would be wiped from my memory. It¡¯s meant to stop the worst information from being extracted by torture should it be destroyed.¡±

    That was one hell of a powerful curse. By writing anything down into the book, the author would become bound by the pact. Their mind would wipe itself like a hard drive.

    Genta grinned nervously, ¡°I may have exaggerated a little and told them that it also worked the other way around. I tricked them into believing that if I died the text itself would be erased, along with my magical energy.¡±

    That was smart of him.

    Veronica sighed, ¡°So the ringleader heard that and told them to stop?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s the plain truth. I promise on my life.¡±

    She leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling, ¡°Is there no way to stop the Scuncath from exploiting that information from here?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid it doesn¡¯t work that way, Ma¡¯am. Only manipulating the book physically can have an impact - and it only works on those who have written into it. The intent was for the current holder to burn it before it could be used for ill, but I was too late to stop them and do that.¡±

    Killing Genta wouldn¡¯t erase information from the book. If we wanted to stop them from summoning more demons, we¡¯d need to find and retrieve it in person.

    My mind was elsewhere though, ¡°That is an incredibly complicated curse to cast. How did your Grandfather do it?¡±

    Genta exhaled through his nose and relaxed now that the hard part was done with, ¡°He spent every penny he had on stockpiling crystallised magical energy and spent years learning how curses worked in profound detail. Even then, the odds of failure were high. But he managed. He transcribed his life¡¯s work into the book and destroyed his old notes. Two generations later, and now it is my responsibility to build on what he started.¡±

    Crystallised mana was a means to store magical energy. It was extremely inefficient, like a low-density battery. To see any real effect, one would have to bring a significant quantity of them along for the ride, and they weren¡¯t exactly portable. They were not dense in terms of storing mana but the physical material was another story.

    Crystals that could store more energy, like the one used in the Roderro¡¯s time-travelling watch, were so expensive and precious that many believed them to be nothing more than a myth spread by enterprising peddlers. They were partly right; your average crystal collector would never see one with their own two eyes. The science behind how and why they contained a higher concentration was almost non-existent. It was almost all speculation.

    Genta¡¯s face twisted as a sour thought came to mind.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, who did they kidnap exactly? Were there any commonalities between them?¡±

    Veronica laughed, ¡°Haven¡¯t you been reading the news? It¡¯s all over the front pages.¡±

    ¡°I tend to get absorbed in my work. No time for politics or gossip.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re all rich and powerful folks. Nobles, businessmen, politicians. They¡¯ve managed to scurry away with a huge proportion of Walser¡¯s high society, and I get the impression they aren¡¯t going to use them to ask for ransom.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was afraid of!¡± Genta gasped, ¡°The nature of the sacrifice is what determines the Horr summoned through the gateway circle! If they were to try and summon a Horrcath of Greed ¨C then it would be an extremely powerful one.¡±

    I scowled, ¡°You¡¯re saying that they get even worse than the one that chased us on the train?¡±

    ¡°They summoned one?¡± Genta squawked in horror, ¡°They summoned a Horrcath onto a public train? Have they lost their damned minds?¡±

    Veronica shrugged, ¡°It killed more of them than it did us.¡±

    ¡°Let me make this very clear to you good ladies. There is no controlling a Horrcath once it is through the veil! They are creatures that act entirely on impulse. There is no reasoning with them, nor is there room to bargain. Fools trick themselves into thinking that the circle contract is ironclad - when it is not so! If what you say is true, and they¡¯ve kidnapped those rich men and women with such an intent, then the damage will be catastrophic.¡±

    Veronica stood back up and clapped her hands together, ¡°Now that you understand the stakes, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll have no problem coming along with us and offering your insight.¡±

    Genta froze like a statue, ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°A civilian expert on Horrcath is just what we need. I wouldn¡¯t have come all this way just to receive your account of the events that another department is handling.¡±

    ¡°But what about my work?¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t even notice that you¡¯re missing.¡±

    Harsh, but true.

    But I did have a point to raise with her, ¡°While I appreciate the urgency, it is getting late ¨C and it¡¯s highly likely that the train station will be closed while they investigate the incident.¡±

    Veronica slumped over, ¡°I hate that you¡¯re right.¡±

    ¡°We should find a place to sleep and pick this up again tomorrow. I could use some peace and quiet after that train ride.¡±

    Veronica was firm with Genta, ¡°You. You¡¯re not going anywhere. I want you to meet us outside the doors tomorrow by eight and be ready to go. Bring some spare clothes and a toothbrush.¡±

    Genta¡¯s eyes were those of a kicked puppy, ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am.¡±

 Chapter 86

    It was entirely unpleasant to be awoken in the earliest hours of the morning by a belligerent captor. These noblemen and women were quick to rise and early to bed, but there were no alarms in the fort to keep them to a schedule.

    ¡°Get up! You bloody parasites, get up!¡±

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re due,¡± Fernando murmured from the corner of the shared cell.

    Damian remained silent and composed. It was a small comfort to Adrian ¨C who was buckling under the weight of many different stresses. There was a brief commotion as all of the cells were unlocked by armed guards, and their occupants were forced to move in a single file line.

    The trio left and followed with the full expectation that their final moments may lie beyond the staircase at the end of the hall. They were ruthless when it came to capturing them. Adrian did not anticipate mercy now that they were in their grasp. At any moment they could be ordered dead, and the bloodthirsty men and women who surrounded them would follow that order without question.

    What he was not expecting though, was to be led into a makeshift dining room.

    He, and the other captives, stood by the door and observed the sight that lay before them. This unhospitable room was prepared to serve them a meal. A round, wooden table in the centre was surrounded on all sides by matching chairs. The table itself was covered with a white cloth and baskets filled with various food items, like bread, fruit and jam.

    There was a man standing at the back side with a smile on his face. He was old, with grey hair and wrinkled skin. His most distinctive feature was the wound on the left side of his head. The indented skin and scarred tissue spoke of a grievous injury, and upon closer inspection, Adrian noted that he was also missing his eye.

    ¡°Is this everyone?¡± Adrian whispered to Damian.

    ¡°That seems to be the case. There are even more here than I counted when I first arrived.¡±

    Adrian looked around the room. They were on the second floor of the fort, and there were several small windows that looked out into the grounds below. Some were boarded up to keep the wind out, while others remained empty, as they were when the fortification was originally constructed. Adrian estimated that someone Maria¡¯s size could squeeze through with enough effort.

    The wounded man clapped his hands together, ¡°Esteemed guests! There¡¯s no need to congregate by the door. I thought it right to invite you here this morning. Nothing brings together the hearts of men like a shared meal.¡±

    The captives had no choice. The herd slowly moved away from the entrance and towards the table. There were still several armed guards waiting in the outside corridor. Adrian approached one of the chairs and considered his words.

    It was an odd gambit, to say the least. The whirlwind of violence that had blown through their homes, killing many innocent and good people, seemingly at his behest ¨C was now tempered with a buffet spread that would not look out of place at a business conference. The man held his arms out wide and invited the captives to sit at the round table.

    Fernando was the first man to muster his courage and speak, ¡°What do you think this is? You kidnap us and murder our staff, and now you mean to curry our favour with a meal?¡±

    ¡°Sir Escobarus, you misinterpret my intentions. You are not here because I have a hatred for you or what you do. If anything ¨C I am thankful for your presence. This meal is my present to you, my payment for your participation!¡±

    ¡°Our participation in what?¡±

    The enigmatic leader shook his head, ¡°It¡¯s a long story. Sit, sit! I will explain all to you.¡±

    The nobles did as the man commanded and took their seats. A great sense of unease rolled from end to end within the circle. Nobody reached out to take the food, fearful that it may have been poisoned.

    ¡°My good men and women of Walser! Thank you for being here today. My name is Hoffman, and I am the elected leader of this flock. I do apologise for the sudden intrusion into your lives, but I assure you that there is an important reason behind our actions.¡±

    His words fell onto unsympathetic ears. The table remained silent in response, allowing only the sound of the wind to leak in through the windows. Hoffman smiled and continued to speak despite the cold rejoinder, ¡°I¡¯m sure that you all have questions for me, and I¡¯d be glad to answer them for you.¡±

    Fernando shook his head, ¡°What is there to understand? You¡¯re a clique of murderers positing to represent something greater. Don¡¯t you feel ashamed of all the innocent people you killed to bring us here?¡±

    Hoffman frowned, ¡°Innocence is a matter of perspective. While the people you employed may have followed the rules, who is to say that those rules are just? Now, I¡¯m inclined to concur with your point, Sir Escobarus. They were good, law-abiding people, but their sacrifice will pale in comparison to the lives we ultimately save.¡±

    Fernando stood and slammed the table, ¡°Sacrifice? They weren¡¯t sacrificed for the sake of anything, you one-eyed bastard! You spilt their blood for the sake of it! You enjoy the thought of their friends and families grieving their loss!¡±

    Hoffman remained unaffected, ¡°Every death is a tragedy ¨C which is why we are here. I assume some of you already know us. We are Scuncath. The dedicated followers of his teachings, and the ones who seek to maintain a long-eschewed balance.¡±

    There was finally a reaction from the table, as several of the nobles discovered that the situation was more dangerous than they initially thought. News of Thersyn¡¯s arrest had reverberated around the nation and reminded everyone of how ruthless the Scuncath could be.

    Adrian joined with Fernando in taking Hoffman to task, ¡°What is this? Payback for Bradley¡¯s arrest?¡±

    Hoffman laughed at the question, ¡°Thersyn Bradley? He was one of us, supposedly. If you¡¯re asking if he was involved in our plan, then the answer is no. I¡¯ve never met the man, nor do I feel any particular outrage for his arrest. We are all well aware that what we do is considered in bad taste.¡±

    ¡°Bad taste?¡± Adrian scoffed, ¡°You murder people and skin them, and use their blood for those vigils of yours. That¡¯s a step beyond bad taste. You lot are mad, all of you.¡±

    Hoffman¡¯s eye turned to him, ¡°Hm? You speak so confidently of our savagery, yet your Father was the one who sought to kill a teenager to enrich himself, and by extension, you.¡±

    Adrian glanced at Fernando, but he wasn¡¯t budging.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to receive any lectures from the likes of you. What a ridiculous comparison to make, and I¡¯ve been clear that I never agreed to what my Father was planning.¡±

    ¡°A convenient excuse if there ever was one,¡± Hoffman dismissed.

    ¡°Adrian¡¯s Father is being punished for his crimes, not celebrated. By what measure do you mean to draw a comparison between Walserian law and your directionless violence?¡± Fernando responded, ¡°Violence is all you Scuncath are good for. It¡¯s the driving force behind everything you do, yet you now try to admonish Sir Roderro for something less.¡±

    Hoffman waved his hands to try and calm the flaring tempers, ¡°Directionless? I think you¡¯ll have a different opinion should the time come to explain our motives.¡±

    Adrian and Fernando doubted that any explanation could sway them onto his side now. Adrian¡¯s rage was fractional compared to Fernando, who was personally present with his staff when the attack started. He saw the callous way in which the Scuncath tormented and murdered them. He had half a mind to round the table and punch Hoffman¡¯s teeth in. He¡¯d be shot for the act, but it would be satisfying.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to ask you all a question. Have you ever stopped and considered the unfettered prosperity that Walser now enjoys? It stands head and shoulders above our neighbours. Our military, industry, and technology are the envy of the world. Does it not strike you that just a few decades ago, there were many who believed that Walser would cease to exist as our people tore themselves into two?¡±

    Silence.

    ¡°I suppose you deserve some of the credit,¡± Hoffman chuckled, ¡°Your influence and financial resources allowed these things to happen. Industrious, intelligent and forethinking people are the blood flowing through our nation¡¯s veins. But I¡¯m no nationalist, my experiences in the civil war moulded me into a decidedly less proud man. I have seen the depths at which otherwise upright men and women can sink.

    ¡°To which I propose a simple conclusion. We are beings of two halves. The side we demonstrate to others is determined by our circumstances, much like the twin Goddesses who created the land we stand upon. But as we speak, what suffering is levied unto the people of this nation in exchange? What price do we pay for the peace we enjoy? Before the civil war, conflict was a natural part of our lives.¡±

    Damian was even-handed in his response, ¡°Because the Van Walser family demanded it. War has given way to diplomacy with our neighbours, as it has across the world.¡±

    Hoffman shook his head gravely, ¡°We are all servants of the Twin Goddesses. Our hands are guided by a force beyond our understanding. It is clear to us now that the balance has been upset, the natural order overturned. We enjoy peace, prosperity, and the unending march of progress ¨C but the Dark Goddess¡¯ influence wanes. We will pay a terrible price if no action is taken.¡±

    ¡°And how can you be so sure of that?¡±

    ¡°We have heard the voice of Cath. We have studied his teachings closely. One Goddess cannot be allowed unfettered dominion over the other.¡±

    Damian, hearing this response, realised that no amount of reason was going to cut through the ideological armour he¡¯d erected around himself. Whether they succeeded or failed in their mission ¨C that outcome would validate their actions regardless. The scales needed to be balanced.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Adrian was not so gentle with his words, ¡°Did you lose a piece of your brain along with that eye? Damnable fool.¡±

    ¡°This scar was once a burden to me, but now it is more. It is the price I paid for my future role. A pound of lost flesh to serve the Dark Goddess, and the Black Lady, in the truest sense of the word. I can imagine no greater privilege.¡±

    Adrian stood from his seat and pointed at him, ¡°Just because you do not believe that a better Walser is possible, does not give you the right to inflict such violence upon other people.¡±

    ¡°We must rebalance the scales, lest we all be destroyed.¡±

    ¡°And how are you so confident that the Dark Goddess demands war?¡±

    ¡°The words and works of Cath guide our methods.¡±

    ¡°And how do you know that Cath isn¡¯t just lying to you?¡±

    Hoffman paused before chuckling, ¡°I see that you¡¯re the stubborn sort, Sir Roderro. To walk a path of endless questions is to simplify the beauty of life. There are powers in this world beyond our collective understanding and the sciences will always fail to explain how and why they interfere.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m wasting my breath,¡± Adrian concluded. He sat back down and stared at the bread basket that was placed in front of him.

    ¡°Do you think we did something untoward with this food?¡± Hoffman motioned to Adrian, ¡°Hand me something, anything from the table.¡±

    Adrian considered what to pick very carefully. He was trying to prove to everyone present that the food was not poisoned. Adrian understood that he wouldn¡¯t go to so much effort imprisoning all of them if only to murder them en masse just a day later. Still, he had a hunch that there was a trick to it, so playing it safe and trying to catch him out was the best option. He didn¡¯t lose anything by trying.

    What would be poisoned, if anything? Not the bread, but perhaps the jam and butter. Adrian grabbed a knife and started to prepare his offering. He used both on a piece of bread and also took an apple from the bottom of the basket. He never said to restrain himself to one item.

    Hoffman accepted both and laid them on his plate. Without hesitation, he took a bite from the loaf and swallowed a mouthful of the apple to follow it up. Adrian was disappointed that he didn¡¯t theatrically clutch his chest or neck as the poison surged through his veins.

    ¡°Your paranoia is well-placed but meaningless. Your lives will not be wasted on childish folly. Now eat. I won¡¯t have you starving on me before that time arrives.¡±

    Their collective discontent was plain to see ¨C but none of the captives would choose to take a pointless stand. Allowing themselves to go hungry would only make a potential escape more difficult, and their imprisonment less comfortable than it already was. Adrian remained still while the rest of the herd charged ahead and started to partake in the meal.

    Adrian almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Dinners with his Father were always silent and profoundly awkward. He earnestly believed that there¡¯d never be a less hospitable dinnertime than that. Hoffman was out to prove him wrong. There were no words shared, and no connections forged. Was Hoffman joking when he spoke of bridging the gap between him and them?

    Hoffman was pleased with himself, that was for certain. He looked the part of a jovial family man happy to be surrounded by his loved ones. It was a type of satisfaction that a monster like him did not deserve. This scene he beheld was brought about under duress. The atmosphere was not friendly or celebratory. Adrian could only compare it to a wake like the one once held for his Mother.

    The more Adrian thought about it ¨C the more similar the feeling was. His Father wanted that event to be a celebration of who she was, but there was an unquestionable air of misery about it. Adrian kept his head down and remained quiet, too young to fully comprehend what was happening.

    He wasn¡¯t alone in that experience. It was surprisingly common for young noble men to find themselves without Mothers. In his eyes, it was the most dangerous role one could take. Death from illness, childbirth, murder or expulsion from the house. Many house heads took their partners for granted or treated them like passing fancies. Even in the immediate circle of people who knew at the academy, there were many examples.

    This was a funeral. Everyone understood what this meant and was playing along appropriately. What good would it do to dignify this sham by putting on a fake smile and sucking up to the manic at the top of the table?

    He took his share of the food and filled his stomach. The discomfort of the cell was already profound. He did not want to add starvation to the list of challenges that he was facing.

    If they couldn¡¯t find a way out of the fort ¨C then it would be the end of all of them. Adrian kept his eyes peeled for opportunities throughout the meal, and tried to memorise as much of the layout of the building as he could once they were silently led back down to the prison.

    Fernando was less enthused about a potential escape, ¡°They¡¯re armed. There is no way we can get out of this prison without the police finding us.¡±

    Adrian sighed, ¡°Can you blame me for thinking? I was hoping to see a critical vulnerability we could use to slip away.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see it. This lot might be violent and belligerent, but that Hoffman fellow has scared them stiff. They¡¯re following his orders. What kind of menace must he be to command that level of loyalty? Scuncath are not team players and never have been. They must have something terrible planned, and they need us to do it.¡±

    Adrian slumped against his wall and clutched his head, ¡°This is it. We¡¯re done for.¡±

    Damian snorted, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure, Sir Roderro. There have been times when I felt the same. I believed that there would be no salvation forthcoming and that I¡¯d be walking into the Goddess¡¯ embrace, but there is value in believing that someone will be here to help us.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    Damian nodded and smiled wistfully, ¡°It was actually how I met my wife!¡±

    ¡°Your wife?¡± Fernando echoed, ¡°I cannot say I recall you ever mentioning her.¡±

    He laughed, ¡°Aye. My wife. Her name was Gwyneth. Adrian will already be familiar with her appearance. Maria is the spitting image of her, if not shorter by virtue of her young age.¡±

    ¡°And what happened to her?¡±

    Damian clammed up suddenly, ¡°A-Ah. Well, I¡¯m afraid that I have to keep a few secrets close to my chest. Apologies. Sometimes I forget myself and start reminiscing about her.¡±

    Fernando rolled his eyes, ¡°Let me guess, Maria was born out of wedlock?¡±

    Damian refused to confirm or deny his guess. He tugged on the edge of his shirt and shook his head, ¡°No. No. I¡¯m not saying any more than that! She¡¯ll come back from the grave and strike me down. I¡¯m sure of it.¡±

    As Adrian studied Damian¡¯s reaction to the question ¨C he was struck with a gut feeling. Damian was lying. He couldn¡¯t place why, nor could he claim to have any evidence in support of his theory, but it was the way he said it. She wasn¡¯t dead, or if she was, the reason behind that death was extremely sensitive and troublesome.

    He was curious. Really curious.

    Getting the truth was going to be a difficult task. Adrian¡¯s imagination ran rampant for the next hour as he tried to piece together a puzzle without seeing any of the pieces. It wasn¡¯t as if they had anything better to do while locked in a cell. He really hoped that Damian was right about their saviours arriving soon.

    Hoffman made it obvious that there wasn¡¯t much time left.

    <hr>

    Samantha did not sleep well after the confrontation between her Father and the strangers outside their home. It was a consistent source of anxiety, given how much she cared for every member of her family. They chose their words with the specific intent of upsetting her Father. She happened to be caught in the crossfire.

    It was her day off. There were no chores to be run that her Brothers couldn¡¯t handle themselves, so she chose to go into town and busy herself with whatever the day brought. A small town like Channery was a friendly place. Everyone knew everyone and there were always current events to talk about.

    Samantha was only gone from the town for a few months, but to her, it felt much longer. How much had she missed during her time at the academy? The local paper didn¡¯t ship out to the city, so all of the goings-on would have to be recanted by word-of-mouth.

    Of all the sights to be found within the town centre, Samantha was not expecting to stumble upon a pair of familiar faces. Claude and Maxwell were standing outside of the bakery with a pair of rolls between them. It was surreal, to say the least. Samantha pinched her own arm to make sure it wasn¡¯t an elaborate dream that she¡¯d sunken into. Judging from their reactions when they spotted her staring, they were thinking along the same lines.

    Samantha hurried over to them to get the details about their mysterious visit.

    ¡°What are you two doing here?¡± she asked.

    Claude was glum, ¡°To make a long story short. My Dad was investigating one of those attacks that are in all of the papers at the moment and one of the mad buggers who did it leapt out of a room and stabbed him in the stomach.¡±

    Samantha gasped, ¡°Is he okay?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but my Mum is really distraught about it. She decided that we¡¯re staying out of the village for a week while it all blows over. She grabbed a spare room from my Aunt and we¡¯re living with her.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realise you had family in Channery,¡± Samantha mused.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know either,¡± Claude admitted, ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve been to my Aunt¡¯s house.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡±

    Max frowned, ¡°I¡¯m here for the same reason. Our house is a crime scene at the moment. I don¡¯t feel safe staying there.¡±

    ¡°They took your Father?¡±

    Samantha knew the answer, but she was hoping that her gut instinct was mistaken.

    ¡°They did. Snatched him away that evening and killed a lot of our servants while they were at it. It was horrible. Even worse than the attack on the theatre and the party.¡±

    Samantha felt bad about opening with such a dreary subject, but there was no getting around it. Max was still worried about the whereabouts of his Father.

    Claude explained further, ¡°We¡¯ve only been in town for a few hours. My Aunt was driving us both crazy with questions and chatter about what we¡¯ve been up to at the academy, so we slipped out to explore.¡±

    ¡°This fresh air is good for my nerves,¡± Max added.

    Samantha sat next to them, ¡°What an odd coincidence this is.¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± Claude concurred, ¡°I take it that nothing interesting is going on around here?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that. Some troublemakers have arrived lately and have been starting spats around town. Two of them got drunk and got into an argument with my Father last night.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? Mum isn¡¯t going to be happy about that.¡±

    Claude could remember the panic he felt so clearly, even hours removed from the news being delivered to them by one of his Father¡¯s officers. He was quick to assure everyone present that the injury was non-fatal, and that a medical expert was already on scene to patch him up and close the wound. A short amount of bedrest would be all it needed to heal.

    But the fact that the danger was present at all was what worried his Mother the most. She hurried to come up with a plan to get them out of the area until the investigations were done. She was going to stay behind and look after Vincent while he recovered. Max was tacked on to the scheme suddenly, forcing him to go racing for some spare clothes of his own too.

    ¡°Seriously, how did I end up being dragged along with you?¡± Max murmured.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t want to stay in your house, and I wouldn¡¯t either. It¡¯s going to take a while for them to finish gathering evidence and clean the place up. They have to leave it as they found it until the detectives are happy they¡¯ve gathered everything.¡±

    Max already understood that. He was simply lamenting the sudden shift in surroundings to a town he¡¯d never visited before. Any hope of normalcy returning was getting fainter by the second. The police would have a hard task in finding the kidnapped victims before they could be harmed. He sunk his teeth into the bagel he was holding and tried to distract his frantic mind.

    Walking across the plaza was a singular figure. A man with a shaved head and sharp eyes. The blood in Max¡¯s veins froze as a terrible sense of revulsion rose up from his stomach.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re kidding me...¡±

    Claude turned to his friend, ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    Max pulled on his sleeve, ¡°That man ¨C I¡¯ve seen him somewhere before. I think he was one of the people who attacked our estate!¡±

    All eyes turned to the man, who continued walking whilst unaware of his identity being discerned by a witness. Max was not mistaken. The longer he stared, the more he was convinced of it. He was there. He was one of the men who kidnapped his Father.

    ¡°We need to do something, now.¡±

    Claude tried to keep him from running away, ¡°Hold your horses there, Max! What do you expect us to do? We should go talk to the constable about it.¡±

    Samantha stood in front of the pair, ¡°That¡¯s right. The constabulary are the ones who solve all of the problems in Channery. If you tell them about what you saw, they¡¯ll have it sorted in the blink of an eye.¡±

    Max flumped back down onto his seat and shook his head, ¡°If you say so. I want to do it now. Where can we find them?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll lead you there. It¡¯s not a long walk.¡±

    Max really was in a hurry. Samantha wasn¡¯t sure how to react once she stepped back, because he leapt from his place and started pacing in anxiety-ridden circles in front of her. If he wasn¡¯t careful ¨C he¡¯d dig a trench down to the local aquifer.

    ¡°I guess we¡¯re going to the constabulary¡¯s office.¡±

    Claude nodded, ¡°It¡¯ll calm him down. Alright, come on Max ¨C let¡¯s report him to the bobbies.¡±

    The trio departed, not knowing just how close to the issue they now flew.

 Chapter 87

    The first surprise of the morning came early, when I awoke in the hotel both alive and well, and in the presence of my skittish Mother. I was fully anticipating to find an empty room and a dismissive note declaring that my assistance was not appreciated or needed. Instead, she was sitting at the table by the window with a cup of tea in one hand.

    ¡°Still here?¡±

    ¡°Hm? You were the one who was so insistent on coming with.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right ¨C and you were the one who swore on her life that I wasn¡¯t permitted to follow.¡±

    I hopped out of bed and dug out some fresh clothes from my trunk. The poor thing had been battered to hell by our brief foray into the world of killing cultists. A trio of vicious slashes had shredded the leather that covered the outer surface, though the more resilient interior lining had survived the impact.

    ¡°This is what they call domestic bliss,¡± Veronica joked, ¡°A foggy morning spent with my dearest daughter. How could one ever grow tired of it?¡±

    ¡°You seem to be under the impression that this is my desired outcome. I already made myself clear when we spoke about this the first time ¨C I am not left wanting for a closer relationship with you. You¡¯ve made it clear to me in response that no such outcome is on the cards.¡±

    Veronica didn¡¯t reply. She¡¯d started to learn that sometimes I wasn¡¯t looking for a discussion. We both understood how this dance was done. We both had secrets we wanted to keep for our own reasons and arguing about it wasn¡¯t going to change that. I could see the curiosity, and perhaps a tinge of worry, in her eyes when she regarded me. It must have been a shock to see me stabbing a man to death and then fighting off several more in a violent brawl.

    Veronica was immersed in a life of violence ¨C but she must have believed that kids my age were no longer swept from the streets and turned into sleeper agents for the government. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure if that was true, but it was a similar enough line of thinking to what she was venturing down.

    She knew Damian, she knew me, so how did it end up this way? How did the child she bore with him transform into a vicious killer while under his watchful eye? It didn¡¯t make any sense. There was no reason for me to be this way. I lived in perfect economic security. I could stay in the manor for the rest of my life and never lift a finger.

    The biggest, most puzzling element was the skill I demonstrated. It was easy for any boy or girl my age to draw a knife and stab some poor bastard to death in a blind rage, and a loaded gun was easy to discharge on accident too. That wasn¡¯t what she witnessed on the train. I moved with purpose and kept a cool head, dispatching every foe with finely tuned intent.

    There were too many discrepancies. Veronica knew enough about me to notice them, whereas others like Samantha were capable of filling in the blanks with their own explanations or denials. Veronica spent her entire life lying to other people, she could sniff out when I was being dishonest with her.

    Once I was dressed and ready to take on the day, she stood from the table and started to pack away her things. I suspected that the hotel was in contact with her agency, or at least had a cooperative agreement with the government for their officers. She barely said a word to the woman manning the reception.

    ¡°I can handle this on my own, you know.¡±

    ¡°On your own?¡± I said sceptically, ¡°There were two dozen of them on that train, and I doubt they¡¯re taking a ¡®less is more¡¯ approach to their home base. There must be hundreds of them working on this.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Veronica smiled, ¡°We captured a handful of them early this morning while they tried to dispose of some incriminating evidence. My colleague was quick to question them about the operation. He concluded that they are working in smaller cells, insulated from possessing too much information about the overall scheme.¡±

    ¡°They telegrammed you?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s very convenient.¡±

    When we rescued Damian, I was going to ask him to install one in the house while they repaired the damage.

    ¡°Any plans on where to go next then?¡±

    Veronica chuckled, ¡°Not exactly. We have a few leads from those interviews, but nothing solid.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that won¡¯t be enough given the time constraint we face.¡±

    ¡°Getting flustered will do us no good. I¡¯ve long since adopted an attitude of being frontward-facing with my work. So long as you keep making progress, however small, you can be confident that you will succeed in protecting the public as an outcome.¡±

    ¡°If you say so. Do you think that Genta can point us in the right direction?¡±

    Veronica clipped her bag shut and sighed, ¡°I¡¯m not expecting much from a brief description of what we know. I hope that with some time and evidence, he will be able to deduce the location of our missing nobles. Or better yet ¨C the police detectives will find them for us and I can move to retrieve them.¡±

    ¡°You mean ¡®we¡¯ can move to retrieve them.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you insist on coming with me. Go back home and put your feet up, for goodness¡¯ sake. You¡¯re picking a fight that there¡¯s no reason to participate in.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say that I¡¯m filled with divine purpose.¡±

    ¡°It sounds to me like you don¡¯t trust the police.¡±

    ¡°At least I know who the police are and what they do. You, on the other hand...¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t leave you for dead back on the train. That should be enough proof that I¡¯m on your side.¡±

    ¡°Leave me for dead? You imply it was ever your choice to make. You would have taken a bullet through the chest if not for my intervention.¡±

    ¡°Stop speaking in hypotheticals,¡± she quipped.

    ¡°And the same to you.¡±

    After finishing our morning argument and collecting our stuff, we headed back to the University building where we found Genta. He was waiting on the step out front for us with a small bag of his own.

    ¡°Good morning Doctor Cambry.¡±

    ¡°Ah, good morning!¡±

    He was already on edge. Veronica pulled out her notebook and flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

    ¡°I promise we won¡¯t take too much of your time, Doctor. I¡¯d like you to come with us and investigate one of the ritual sites that have been found nearby. The detectives have already had their turn scouring it for evidence, and the iconography remains on the floors and walls.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so long as there aren¡¯t any of them lurking around to try and kill us.¡±

    I wanted to assure him that such an event was unlikely given how the cultists were fleeing the scene of the crimes, but I couldn¡¯t. I knew in my gut that if I dared utter the damn words, one of them would leap out from a bush and kill the Doctor before he could offer any useful information to us.

    ¡°The police have been camping out there for a full day now. There¡¯s no chance that they come back and try to reclaim it.¡±

    ¡°I would not ascribe rational action to the Scuncath, Miss...¡±

    ¡°Just call me Veronica.¡±

    My ears perked up at that exchange. Veronica wasn¡¯t expecting anyone to ask her for a last name out of politeness. ¡®Veronica¡¯ was likely something she made up to use while on the job.

    ¡°Miss makes me feel old.¡±

    Or perhaps not.

    Genta titled his head askew, ¡°Old? Forgive me for being so forward, but it is difficult to tell your true age.¡±

    ¡°A lady never tells,¡± Veronica replied, ¡°But you would be surprised. These crow¡¯s feet don¡¯t lie.¡±

    We walked towards the train station and I crossed my fingers. We¡¯d be lucky if the trains were still running as usual after what happened the day before. It wouldn¡¯t have been overkill to stop them completely until the mess could be cleaned up.

    ¡°Did you contact your handler about the incident?¡± I whispered.

    ¡°They already knew it was me,¡± she revealed, ¡°I gave them the short version of the tale, and they passed it on to the police.¡±

    ¡°And you can trust them?¡±

    ¡°Trust is a strong word. We have a professional respect for one another. I doubt they¡¯re the one who revealed the operation to the Scuncath. I warned them about that too, and they¡¯re going to put a noose around any information they give out.¡±

    At least they were taking the threat seriously. I was too used to being surrounded by buffoons who always assumed ill-intentioned people would ignore the opportunities they gave them. Beatrice¡¯s Father was lucky I never laid eyes on him again after that party disaster.

    Genta adjusted his tie nervously, ¡°I gave what you said yesterday some thought and I think I have a good idea as to what they¡¯re planning.¡±

    Veronica smiled, ¡°You do? Please share.¡±

    ¡°They have my family¡¯s book, which details the best and most efficient ways to summon creatures from beyond the veil. Without that book, they would struggle to bring about more than a creature the size of a rodent, even with a potent sacrifice. The reason the Scuncath have historically failed to implement their schemes is because they do not understand the principles of summoning.¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Such as?¡±

    ¡°The date and time are important, essential even, the veil weakens and strengthens depending on the fullness of the moon. We have three days until the perfect window arises. They gathered a large collection of powerful sacrifices, those who are rich and influential, to summon a creature which embodies greed. They must be waiting until then to kill them.¡±

    I nodded, ¡°That¡¯s our time limit. It¡¯s somewhat reassuring to know that they may not be dead yet.¡±

    ¡°But it is a very strict time limit,¡± Genta warned, ¡°They will not hesitate once that window arrives.¡±

    ¡°Does the location matter?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not, so long as there is space to draw the summoning circle. The veil exists in a separate plane to our physical world and it can be accessed from anywhere.¡±

    Veronica stepped into the station to buy three tickets while we waited by the door.

    ¡°Is there any reason why she¡¯s bringing a young girl with her?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m her assistant.¡±

    He hummed, ¡°I know that the labour laws were changed recently, but I was not aware that girls your age could still be employed. Is it because the job doesn¡¯t involve manual labour?¡±

    For whatever reason Genta did not draw the more obvious conclusion that I was both Veronica¡¯s daughter and that I was lying to him to cover my tracks. He couldn¡¯t see the wood for the trees, not when it came to handling other people.

    ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s go with that. It¡¯s hard to believe that we¡¯re dealing with real, in-the-flesh demons here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s paradoxical. Veil entities embody the irrational. The untouchable, the unseen, the experienced. Just like how magic is divided into rational and irrational fields, we can make similar categorisations for living creatures. Horrcath are not unique in that sense. What is unique about them is their capacity for reckless endangerment. They use their heightened intelligence to kill and maim rather than explore more erudite fields.¡±

    ¡°Do you mean to say that there are more creatures beyond the veil? Ones who can¡¯t be used as weapons?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, very much so! Intra-veil research is the true, ultimate purpose of what we do at the University. With time, we¡¯ve come to believe that there are a great many disparate beings that exist there and that not all of them are hostile. Of course, the previous generations who wished to use Veil entities as weapons considered those harmless creatures to be a failed summoning. It is illustrative of how violence can blind people to the complexity of our universe.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. That which cannot be utilised to harm others is discarded quickly and willingly.¡±

    Veronica returned, ¡°Luckily for us ¨C the trains are moving again. I think that my friend made them hurry up and reopen the line. It¡¯ll be a short trip to the scene, two stops.¡±

    Genta¡¯s mood turned more pensive once we boarded the train. This time, Veronica didn¡¯t force me to ask twice when it came to choosing a booth that let us watch both sides of the carriage. What do you know? An old dog can learn some new tricks, not that she would ever admit that.

    The clock in my head was ticking. We needed to hurry and find some answers.

    <hr>

    The Channery County jailhouse was a relatively modest building on the east side of the town centre. Once intended to hold the offices of two to three constables, the organisation had ballooned in size over the preceding years with the arrival of more people who found it a convenient location from which to reach the nearby train station. Instead of three part-time constables who handled requests on an as-needed basis, they were now fully employed and salaried government agents.

    More constables could congregate in the area when there was a demand for them. That was rare. Towns like Channery didn¡¯t tend to attract troublemakers. It was the denser areas of the newly industrialised cities that became hotspots for crime.

    The constables were widely respected by the community ¨C they had to be. Consent and trust went hand in hand and no constable could do their job without the cooperation of the locals. They wanted their town to be safe and crime-free, and it was essential for constables to showcase their own motivation in reaching that goal.

    A hated constable was an ineffective constable, though that did not preclude some from abusing their position in secrecy. Such under-the-table offences were easy to achieve in a system where there was little oversight from a higher authority.

    Samantha knew the three constables by name; Walter Fernwell, Fran Chalmers, and John Jones. There was usually only one of them on duty at a time, but stepping through the doors to the front office made it clear that all three constables were on deck and ready for action.

    Samantha had never seen Constable Jones in such a panic before. He completely ignored her walking through the door and grabbed a stack of papers from one of the desks, hurrying around a corner and out of sight. The sounds of slicing and shuffling filled the air.

    ¡°Is now a bad time, Mister Jones?¡±

    He peered around the corner and exhaled, ¡°To be truthful, it is, but I can¡¯t turn away folk who need a helping hand now, can I? It¡¯s nice to see you again Sam. Your Pa¡¯s told me every darn thing that¡¯s happened since you started going to the Royal Academy. No need to get me caught up.¡±

    The noises coming from the building¡¯s back rooms, where the cells were located, was evidence enough to Samantha that a lot of rowdy strangers who rolled into town had managed to get into trouble by drinking too much, and getting into scraps with the locals.

    ¡°Let me out of here, you lousy hick bastard!¡±

    Jones shook his head, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen nothin¡¯ like it. This lot rolled into the village and drank until the tavern was dry, and then started fighting each other once the residents cleared out to avoid getting dragged into the tussle.¡±

    ¡°Where are they all coming from?¡± Samantha pondered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t rightly know. They run their mouths, but never share anything useful.¡± Jones looked to her two friends, ¡°You got two strangers with you right now. Introduce me!¡±

    ¡°I promise that they aren¡¯t as much trouble as that lot.¡±

    ¡°Just a little trouble?¡± Jones snickered.

    ¡°Yeah ¨C a little. This is Claudius and this is Maxwell.¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you, lads.¡±

    Claude shook his hand, ¡°You probably know my Father already. He¡¯s a police Captain in the next district over. Captain Wile.¡±

    Jones¡¯ eyes lit up in recognition, ¡°You¡¯re Captain Wile¡¯s lad? Small world, isn¡¯t it.¡±

    Max did the same and shook in greeting, ¡°We came out here to get away from some of the chaos going on, but it looks like it followed us here.¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t going to be causing any more chaos on my watch, I can promise you that! I¡¯m rustling up the other constables, even the ones who are off rotation, so that we can handle all of these cases that are sprouting up.¡±

    Max quickly got to the point of their visit; ¡°I think I have some information that you¡¯ll find useful, Constable. I recognized one of the men in town just now, and I¡¯m afraid of the implications.¡±

    ¡°You did? Let me write it down before I forget.¡±

    Jones grabbed a pencil from his desk and a clean piece of writing paper.

    Max kept his voice low to avoid agitating the men in the cells, ¡°I believe that these strangers are the Scuncath who kidnapped all of those people, including my Father. One of the men in town was at our house last night. I swear. I¡¯d never forget an ugly mug like that.¡±

    Jones paused, ¡°You think so?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely.¡±

    Jones thought about it. The longer he did, the more it made sense. A deluge of total strangers rolling into town, who behaved violently and without restraint, and seemingly stayed in an unknown location despite the lack of available lodgings in Channery.

    It was a good place to hide. There were many abandoned buildings off the beaten path, places that people rarely dared to venture without an explicit reason. Channery straddled the line between being obscure and having the supplies and infrastructure needed to feed a gang of criminals.

    ¡°Crap. If that¡¯s true, I¡¯d need to send a letter to the Chief, and Goddess knows how long it¡¯ll take to get there.¡±

    ¡°Can you not handle it yourself?¡± Max inquired.

    ¡°I know you want to see these monsters put away but there are only three of us working this route. We¡¯re already swamped with work thanks to them getting into drunken brawls, filing reports and contacting the court in Bruta. If they still have the numbers and weapons they used to kidnap those folks, we¡¯ll need backup, a lot of it.¡±

    Max nodded, ¡°I understand. I appreciate your honesty, Constable.¡±

    ¡°Chin up though, lad. I imagine that they¡¯ll come down on this place like a swarm once that letter reaches the right people. They won¡¯t have time to get away. This has been a huge black eye for the police. They want to repair their reputation and fast.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not as if they could have predicted something this serious. Aren¡¯t the Scuncath infamous for their volatility?¡±

    ¡°True, but they had to get their weapons somewhere. There¡¯ll be a lot of questions for the big-wigs who run the WISA.¡±

    ¡°The WISA?¡±

    ¡°The Walser Internal Security Agency. They were founded about a decade ago to take care of the information-gathering duties that the police couldn¡¯t find time for. They¡¯re a public agency ¨C but most people don¡¯t even know they exist. If anyone so much as sneezes in the wrong place, they¡¯re supposed to know about it.¡±

    ¡°Oh! I¡¯ve heard of them before. They¡¯re like an agency of spies who do all kinds of crazy stuff,¡± Claude declared.

    Constable Jones chuckled, ¡°I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s a lot less interesting than you imagine. A lot of them do boring desk work, pushing paper and sending telegrams.¡±

    ¡°Let me have this,¡± Claude pleaded, ¡°They have to have at least one or two trained killers on the team!¡±

    Max joined in, ¡°Oh? Like Maria?¡±

    Claude turned on his friend with a stern expression, ¡°Exactly. They could have trained her from birth. How else would you explain her incredible athletic prowess?¡±

    ¡°She runs laps around the school every morning when she wakes up,¡± Samantha explained, ¡°Hardly a skill that she needs to be taught at a spy agency. She always says that a healthy body is a healthy mind.¡±

    Though in truth ¨C Samantha was being enticed by the idea. Maria had so far insisted that she learnt her skills alone, in isolation from any outside influence. That never made any sense to Sam. Running laps was one issue, but there was also her immense talent when it came to fighting out of dangerous situations. She also boasted a seemingly endless library of important principles that allowed her to remain anonymous. That wisdom didn¡¯t come from nowhere.

    If it was true, then Maria would have a good reason to keep it quiet. Samantha didn¡¯t expect to be handed all of her darkest secrets right away. Heck, even she was keeping a big secret from Maria in regards to their discussion with the Goddess. Trust was to be earned, not given as a matter of courtesy.

    ¡°All I¡¯ll say is that the committee report into the Van Walser family¡¯s dealings post-compromise concluded that there were no ¡®child assassins¡¯ like the tabloids love to theorize,¡± Jones finished. He was very well-read for an officer placed into a rural post.

    Max tried to get matters back on track, ¡°I¡¯m not entirely certain that what I saw was right, but it was the impression that I got. I felt like he was there during the attack.¡±

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s okay. A lot of folks who come to us with reports aren¡¯t one hundred percent sure either. It¡¯s our job to look into it.¡±

    Jones did expect it to be an issue. He couldn¡¯t bring the young lad into the back and run an identification line-up. The office had already received a warning about that kind of lackadaisical procedure, not to mention the risk of agitating them any further.

    ¡°Can you describe him to me?¡±

    Max took a seat and rubbed his forehead as he tried to conjure up the image of the person in question. It was tougher than he thought it would be, given how clear and instinctual his reaction was when he saw him. That shock did not translate into a comprehensive description of his appearance.

    ¡°Okay. Let me think for a moment.¡±

    The Constable spent the next ten minutes helping Max work out the details by asking a series of questions about his distinguishing features. As they got closer to the end, he became more confident in his recollection and the underlying accusation that he was at the manor during the massacre.

    In the end ¨C Jones got the picture. He was tall, balding, with a mean sneer and was wearing a long brown coat. That would be enough to collar him in a town this small, but Max added some extra details, including a distinctive scar on his top lip.

    ¡°We can grab him and bring him in for questioning, but I¡¯m still going to send a letter to the Chief. There¡¯s no time to waste second guessing ourselves.¡±

    Max stood from the chair, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to be a bother.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t think of it like that, lad. Any lead on where they¡¯ve gone is helpful. Trust your gut a little.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

    With their report submitted and Jones moving to alert the authorities, Samantha and the gang headed back to the door.

    ¡°Oh, and if you see Constable Fernwell, tell him that I need to talk with him. I have no idea where he went and I don¡¯t have time to go looking!¡±

    ¡°Will do!¡± Samantha replied.

    When the trio found themselves back on the main road, Max exhaled through his nose and considered what he¡¯d seen.

    ¡°The police here are much friendlier than in the city,¡± Claude observed.

    ¡°That¡¯s because they don¡¯t have to worry as much as they do,¡± Samantha explained, ¡°But you don¡¯t find harder or more honest workers than in Channery. Jones will see it right.¡±

    ¡°I hope so.¡±

    ¡°You okay, Max?¡±

    Max nodded, ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t doubt his sincerity, it¡¯s just frustrating to hear that it might take a long time for word to reach the right people. Who knows what they¡¯re planning on doing while we wait?¡±

    Samantha couldn¡¯t answer that in a satisfying way. She was worried too.

    ¡°...Since we¡¯re all here, why don¡¯t I show you some of the local landmarks? It might take your mind off of things for an hour or two.¡±

    Max agreed, ¡°Alright. I¡¯m sure you can show us a side of Channery that Claude could never hope to.¡±

    ¡°I never promised that I was as informed as one of the locals,¡± Claude griped, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen my Aunt in years!¡±

    Samantha led them away from the office.

    Her plan was working already ¨C they were arguing like usual.

 Chapter 88

    Our search for clues about the Scuncath¡¯s whereabouts brought us to a small stone cottage that was an hour¡¯s trip away from the train station. Tucked between a grove of trees and off the beaten path, it was a picturesque place to make a home ¨C but it had sadly been spoiled by the arrival of malicious actors. This was the site of one of the murders.

    ¡°Why did they come here, exactly?¡±

    Veronica straightened out her bangs, ¡°We¡¯re not sure. It doesn¡¯t fit with the pattern of other crimes committed that day. It could simply be a random act of violence. They¡¯re known to do that.¡±

    I took in the smaller details of the cottage. It was clearly a labour of love ¨C with freshly painted wooden shutters over the windows and a finely kept front garden. I felt a twinge of sympathy for our anonymous victim. They probably thought they were safe out here, happily making a quiet place for themselves while the world moved on around them.

    It wasn¡¯t so easy to shut yourself away from the world at large. No matter how far you ran, or how obscure your choice of home, it was inevitable that you¡¯d be drawn into conflict with other people.

    As for the police, they were no longer here. The area was cordoned off with some barriers and the front door was locked, but Veronica already knew where the spare key was hidden. We took our shoes off by the footwell in the front room and took extra care not to disturb any of the scene.

    The house consisted of a common layout. There were three rooms on the ground floor. A front kitchen and dining room, a sitting room in the back, and a storage area for food to the left beneath the stairs. The sitting room was the sight of the murder.

    Even with the body removed so that it could be taken to the local morgue, it was a grim sight. The room was in a state of disarray. Furniture was strewn around and left where it fell. A large blotch of blood covered the living room floor, and several runes were painted on the plaster-covered walls using that same substance.

    Genta turned white as a sheet, ¡°Goddess above. What a ghastly display!¡±

    ¡°Not used to seeing so much blood?¡± Veronica queried.

    ¡°I¡¯m rather proud to say that my research into intra-veil summoning has progressed thus far without the need for spilling any blood.¡±

    ¡°Why do they use blood, anyway?¡±

    Genta adjusted his glasses, ¡°It¡¯s the easiest way to summon an aggressive creature. They¡¯re attracted to the smell, and the violence.¡±

    ¡°They can smell violence?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Some of these creatures have senses that we humans do not. Remember ¨C they are irrational. They connect with emotions and deeds. Do not make the mistake of presuming that they react to stimuli the same way we do, or that they regard objectiveness as a quality worth valuing.¡±

    ¡°How much do you know about Scuncath psychology and practice?¡±

    ¡°Not a lot, I¡¯m afraid. I focus more on the outcomes than the methods.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I need you to tell us what these symbols mean.¡±

    ¡°Very well. Allow me to record them down and put it together.¡±

    I left Veronica and Genta to do their business and inspected the living room from my own perspective. It was obvious that the victim took great pains to decorate the interior to their liking. There were soft blankets and pillows, plush curtains and other niceties designed to make it a comfortable place to sit during the colder months. The fireplace was still filled with the remnants of burnt wood.

    There were several pictures left on the mantlepiece. Taking portraits was all that cameras were good for at the moment. They demanded that the subject remain still for a significant amount of time. The pictures showed an older man, an older woman, and a younger duo who I presumed were related to them. Given that the old woman stopped appearing by the second image, it seemed that the occupant was a widower.

    What a terrible way to go. He was probably imagining his end to be more peaceful than the likes of this. Some would find that thought odd. I dealt with dispensing some terrible people, and I didn¡¯t feel bad about it, but I knew nothing about this gentleman. He might have been a good friend, a caring father and an upstanding person. I just didn¡¯t know.

    I was not necessarily a cynical sort. Taking a negative attitude while also being an assassin would drive me crazy. There was a balance to be struck. I could save all my dark thoughts for when I was stalking a target and planning to put a bullet between their eyes. It was too easy to fall into the trap of seeing everyone the same way. There were good people out there, it merely took time to find them.

    The more I looked ¨C the more personal touches I spotted. There were a series of lines carved into the doorframe where someone had measured their height. The wear and tear of a home turned from a family dwelling to a retirement palace. A building filled to the brim with memories.

    I turned back to see what Veronica was up to. She was taking a measured approach to investigating the house. She was particularly interested in what was on the floor. The police had been careful not to erase or modify the muddy marks that had been pressed onto the tiles in the kitchen.

    I approached as she knelt by a pile of discarded shoes. She took one from the pile and flipped it over. She was interested in a black, dusty residue that was caked into the sole. Now that my eye was drawn to it, a similar shade of slate was scrubbed onto the floor too. It had been trudged in from the outside.

    ¡°This black stuff ¨C that isn¡¯t from around here. It¡¯s all over the cottage.¡±

    ¡°Residue. Do you know where it¡¯s from?¡±

    She ran through her thought process, ¡°The smart ones bring an extra pair of shoes to wear. They get blood on them, which makes for easy tracking when looking over a crime scene. For whatever reason this Scuncath left theirs behind in a hurry. If they didn¡¯t use them ¨C then this is a clean sample of what¡¯s underfoot at whatever location they use to gather.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    She mulled it over, ¡°The closest place that has stone this colour is to the West. The areas in and around Channery are notable for it. But that¡¯s a wide net to cast. There are a lot of good places to hide around there.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s where the fighting happened.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Tunnel systems and old fortifications, too many for a small group to track and search. A lot of them are in inaccessible locations too. They could be anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Why does it all have to be such a pain?¡± I griped.

    ¡°Investigative work is never easy. I take it that you don¡¯t have much experience?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly, no.¡±

    My ¡®research¡¯ was usually easy. My employers usually had a frim grasp on when and where I could find the target in question. Failing that, people who made a lot of enemies tended to broadcast their every move online to try and cultivate followings.

    If that also wasn¡¯t enough ¨C I could access illicit databases of leaked social media data to figure out their daily routine. Where they worked, what they liked to do in their free time, and specific locations tracked from their phones. It was terrifying just how much information those companies kept on record. Most never even comprehended that all of that data was up for grabs for anyone willing to pay the entry fee to the people who leaked it.

    Your entire life, summed up, packaged and sold to advertisers for their convenience. I was lucky to never cultivate a group of friends myself so they could drag me, kicking and screaming, onto one of them.

    ¡°It¡¯s safe to say that they¡¯re near Channery, at least in my expert opinion. It¡¯s close enough to a rail line that you can move a lot of people there in a hurry. It offers all the abandoned real estate they need to summon a big Horrcath too.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s theory was firm, and a larger piece of stone wedged into the leather was further evidence of where they¡¯d been hiding. She held it up to the light and frowned.

    ¡°It¡¯s odd. I would have thought that a town like that would have alerted the authorities with so many Scuncath running around.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re more organized than usual ¨C perhaps they have someone capable of making them behave too.¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡±

    Veronica put the shoe back but kept the small piece of black stone for later inspection. Genta was almost finished noting down and translating the icons on the walls. The summoning circle was elaborate but clumsily executed, a fact he¡¯d picked up on.

    ¡°I believe the reason there was no report of a demon here is because of this circle. There are several minor errors that would prevent it from working as intended.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Even with the book?¡± Veronica inquired.

    ¡°Even with the book and illustrated examples the precision required is rather intense. It¡¯s entirely possible for an untrained hand to follow it closely and still fail to complete the circle.¡±

    I had an important question, ¡°If they did summon a Horrcath here ¨C would it remain until it is killed?¡±

    ¡°No. They will eventually return to the veil from whence they came, still, even with a short stay in our world they can cause significant damage.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we know.¡±

    ¡°What were they trying to do here?¡± Veronica asked, cutting to the point.

    ¡°They were attempting to cultivate that scent. Creating a widespread environment of violence, or other strong emotions, makes summoning easier. When a creature passes through the curtain the barrier also becomes weaker. It¡¯s a vicious cycle that they hope to exploit to achieve their main goal.¡±

    ¡°You mentioned greed, not violence.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Violence and fear are the easiest emotions to create on demand, but resentment for the powers that be and those in stations of wealth are also powerful motivators. The scars of the civil war have not faded, and will not for some years yet. That hatred and a desire to replace them are what summon creatures who love the smell of greed.¡±

    ¡°And with the entirety of Walser¡¯s high society in one place to offer their blood ¨C it will be a very powerful creature indeed.¡±

    ¡°That is what I worry about. These runes are intended to ease the process. We must make haste, lest they kill them all and many, many others.¡±

    It was all sounding a little apocalyptic to my ears, yet I still received the impression that this was not the world-ending threat that Durandia wanted me and Samantha to prevent. Samantha wasn¡¯t even with me, not much of a team effort when we were separated into two different places.

    But Veronica was confident that the Scuncath were in Channery. Samantha¡¯s farm was in Channery too. Things were leading to a climax. I could see it all lining up in front of me like pieces on a board. There was still more for us to learn, and more Scuncath to fight our way through. It was not going to be easy.

    ¡°That¡¯s everything we can learn here. A productive visit,¡± Veronica concluded.

    But Genta stopped us before we could leave by standing in front of the door.

    ¡°Something on your mind?¡± Veronica asked.

    ¡°I want to speak with you before we leave for our next destination. It¡¯s about the book.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead. You are our expert, after all.¡±

    ¡°I understand that it¡¯s difficult to understand my perspective, but I want to get it back. It can cause serious harm to a large number of innocent victims, but it is also something very near and dear to my heart. Three generations of our family worked to explore a subject most considered deeply taboo. We took that risk for the sake of enlightening people, and protecting them through that knowledge.¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°That is perfectly rational of you, but how can you be so certain that having this information come to light will help more than it harms? We¡¯ve already seen how much damage it can cause first-hand.¡±

    ¡°When people are aware of the harm that it can cause, they are more likely to shy away from it than abuse it.¡±

    ¡°Do you agree, Maria?¡±

    I didn¡¯t know why she was fishing for my opinion. I shrugged, ¡°It all hinges on what information we¡¯re talking about, but I concur that a more educated society is a less violent one.¡±

    Genta stepped forth, ¡°I have a responsibility to get that book back. It¡¯s been in our family for a hundred years, and now it¡¯s being used for reprehensible purposes. Please allow me to come with you.¡±

    This was a sudden change in tact from Genta. He seemed scared witless about the blood, and his voice quivered when speaking about his prior brush with death. What good would he be once we started trying to get it back? It would be safer for him to stand at a safe distance and wait for the results.

    Veronica posed a question to gauge his response, ¡°If it comes down to a choice between destroying that book or letting the Scuncath have it, what would you choose?¡±

    Genta was firm in his response; ¡°I already said that the book is my responsibility. If I have to destroy it and start all over again, I will.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s reply was the more surprising side of this discussion, as it seemed that his willingness to sacrifice the book impressed her.

    ¡°Good. I don¡¯t want to cross out any options before we get there. Ideally, we can take care of the Scuncath and recover it intact.¡±

    ¡°But I thought you believed it was dangerous to know.¡±

    ¡°I do believe that. Sometimes information can be more dangerous than helpful, but I won¡¯t spite you and your family by needlessly destroying your life¡¯s work.¡±

    Genta smiled, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    There was an ulterior motive here. Veronica strongly resisted my attempts to tag along on this investigation, but she was more than willing to let Genta put himself into the line of fire. Did she value his expertise about demons that much, or was there something else I was missing? I doubted that Veronica was in the business of protecting me from harm ¨C given her prior lack of concern about raising me.

    Regardless, she wanted to make a quick stop at the nearest telegraph box so that she could relay her orders to the people in the city. It would be an hour¡¯s detour, and from there we could return to the train station and head West to Channery.

    I crossed my fingers and hoped that Samantha was staying out of trouble.

    <hr>

    Samantha had intended for her tour of the town to be a relaxing distraction from the very serious events that were occurring around them. That logic was soon tested ¨C because it was impossible for them to walk for more than a few meters without running headfirst into a frank reminder of those exact circumstances.

    Max could feel their eyes bearing down on him from every angle. Those beady eyes, always staring, always observing, sucking the life from him like a pack of vampire bats. There was no escaping it. Every new grouping alarmed him further. How many of them were hiding in Channery? It must have been well over one hundred.

    ¡°This is crazy, now that I know about it I can¡¯t stop seeing them everywhere!¡± Claude whispered.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way to tell if they¡¯re really Scuncath,¡± Max cautioned. Claude was going to get ahead of himself again if he kept talking like that.

    ¡°Samantha is friends with most of the people who live in this town. She should know who the strangers are.¡±

    Samantha tempered his expectations, ¡°I can¡¯t pretend that every stranger here is a Scuncath, Claude. There¡¯s simply no way for us to tell.¡±

    Channery was a big town. Saying that she was familiar with every resident was a significant exaggeration. They came and went with some regularity. In the time between her leaving for the academy and returning a few months later, hundreds of new names and faces would have passed through ¨C with some choosing to stay permanently. That kind of familiarity was on the way out.

    ¡°They like to get drunk and there are a lot of them. They must have bought the entire stock of alcohol from the local stores.¡±

    ¡°And they didn¡¯t turn them away?¡± Max asked.

    ¡°The store owners aren¡¯t going to turn down good business,¡± Samantha said, ¡°Every mark counts.¡±

    Max winced. He was showcasing his ignorance again. He didn¡¯t consider the economic pressures they would face if they kept refusing buyers.

    ¡°But, I do agree with you. It¡¯s very irregular for them to let their stock get bought out completely. They must be offering enough to cover the whole lot. My Father loves it. He can never find a good price for our produce around this time of year ¨C but suddenly all of that waste is worth its weight in gold.¡±

    Max averted his eyes to the dirt road below. Samantha¡¯s tour was enthusiastic, and many of the sights were beautiful indeed ¨C but there was a lingering sense of dread hanging over them. Had Claude¡¯s mother accidentally sent them into the belly of the beast?

    It was too dangerous. They were everywhere, and if they recognised him it would be nothing but trouble. There was no indication that they¡¯d decide to stop and rest with the people they¡¯d already kidnapped.

    The braying of a horse caught his ear. The trio stopped midway down the road and turned in that direction. There was a field out there that hadn¡¯t been tended to in some time, leaving tall grass to grow over the once-tilled ground. There was movement through the reeds ¨C a horse-drawn cart with multiple people riding in the back.

    Claude peered through a gap in the treeline, ¡°What are they doing over there?¡±

    The cart came to a stop and three of the passengers hopped down from the back. One of them bent over and started to push something out from the cart, where it landed with a loud thud. They couldn¡¯t see what it was. Once the load was dumped, the cart departed with the three passengers walking behind it.

    ¡°I have a bad feeling,¡± Max muttered.

    Samantha was the first to hop across the ditch and pass through into the grass. She walked in a straight line, keeping her head low in case they decided to return. This was the perfect spot to hide something untoward. Nobody would come this way without reason, nor would they spot the disturbance in the vegetation.

    Samantha pulled aside the final barrier, wincing as the sharp brambles nicked at her skin. What was left in the clearing was a brown bag bound with ropes. The length and size sent alarm bells ringing in her mind. There was only one possibility.

    ¡°Is that... a body?¡± Claude whispered.

    ¡°What else could it be?¡± Max fretted, ¡°This is bad. This is really bad.¡±

    Samantha kneeled next to the bag and undid the knot tied around the top end where the ¡®head¡¯ was supposed to be. Peeling aside the burlap wrapping revealed her worst fears were true. Unblinking, unmoving ¨C a pale and squalid face staring out at her from between the folds.

    ¡°Oh Goddess, this is Constable Fernwell. They killed him.¡±

    There was no denying it now. They were in Channery and more than ready to kill anyone who got in their way. Fernwell must have run into them while responding to a resident¡¯s request for help, and matters got out of hand leading to his death. They bagged his body and dumped him in a remote area in the hopes that nobody would find it.

    His face was covered in bruises, ugly and bulbous ¨C beneath his eyes and around his cheeks. His nose was broken too. The Scuncath had mercilessly beaten him before dealing the finishing blow. It was gruesome. It made Max and Claude sick to their stomachs. Samantha redressed the body and stood up with a furious glare.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe this. How many people have they killed already that we haven¡¯t found?¡±

    Max could hear them nearby; ¡°We have to leave, now.¡±

    Samantha turned and followed him back into the weeds. They hadn¡¯t left the area yet for some reason. She could hear the wheels trundling down the road. The men were arguing and cared not for keeping their conversation away from prying ears.

    ¡°I told you, you should have left him well enough alone!¡±

    ¡°He was going to arrest us. I¡¯m not getting thrown in that jail with the rest of them.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d be out within the day, except you had to go and make it serious by knocking his lights out. A jail cell is practically a holiday compared to what Hoffman will do if he finds out you¡¯ve killed someone without his orders.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not going to find out. By the time someone stumbles across that body, we¡¯ll be long gone. This field isn¡¯t in season. It¡¯ll be months before the farmer even thinks about coming this way again.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t trust you to keep this quiet. You¡¯ll be bragging about killing a copper for the next week solid.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not that stupid.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you are! You can¡¯t pass up a good opportunity to come off like a hard lad.¡±

    It was an extremely revealing conversation ¨C not because of the illicit subject matter, but because of the casual approach all three men had towards extreme violence. They didn¡¯t seem at all concerned about the toll of killing another person. Samantha recalled Maria¡¯s outward statements about being willing to kill, now in a new light. She was willing, but she did not enjoy it like they did.

    To the Scuncath this sort of violence was as natural as breathing. Through intimidation, peer pressure or induction, they minimized the emotional toll. They were taught to express their creed through casual bloodshed. The stories were true. Samantha wanted to believe that they were exaggerations sensationalised by the press, as they often were liable to do, but there was no mistaking what she¡¯d witnessed with her own eyes.

    Dozens of them, potentially hundreds, were already in her hometown and wreaking havoc. Constable Fernwell would not be the last. They needed to get back to the jail and report his death as soon as possible. Once the voices faded away, Samantha leapt out onto the road and broke out into a sprint, with Max and Claude in pursuit behind her.

 Chapter 89

    It was time to make a quick detour before we departed for our next destination, though ironically in the process we would learn an important piece of information that made the whole trip rather redundant.

    Veronica had a significant level of access to the telegraph network that was only recently built to connect various institutions around Walser. Private use had not yet propagated to the point wherein a regular person could afford to use it. They charged by word, and certain areas were controlled by private companies that got a kickback from the government for contributing.

    In exchange for tax relief and whatever profits were derived from the infrastructure, they allowed law enforcement and government agencies to use it free of charge. The fact that Veronica did have access meant that she was being truthful about that much at least.

    Despite the convenience of the technology, you still had to physically visit one of the locations and do the dance of sending a coded signal to the agency building, where an operator would then speak with the person in charge before relaying the reply back. It was very slow but faster than visiting the building and speaking with them face-to-face.

    What that meant was that I had to stand out front like a lost child while she did her business inside. Genta ran off somewhere to purchase supplies for the rest of our trip, sparing me an awkward discussion but also leaving me in the lurch. I was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable with how many people kept staring or whispering about me to each other.

    I hadn¡¯t erased that train encounter from my mind. They had eyes and ears in government agencies too. It was a revealing level of access to what should have been secure organisations. How widespread were their views, really? Did they honestly have the pull to implant their people into places like those?

    After a disconcerting amount of time, Veronica emerged from the office with a calm smile and several pieces of paper in her hand. She was going to have to burn those later to keep the information on them from being leaked. We walked out of the public square and into a nearby park that was left empty during working hours. Genta was going to reunite with us here.

    ¡°Anything of note? You have a lot of papers there.¡±

    Veronica shuffled through them, ¡°One of the local constables from Channery sent a letter to the dispatch officer, and it was forwarded urgently to the Chief. He claimed that a surplus of suspicious and aggressive strangers had entered the town, and several of them had already been apprehended for violent behaviour.¡±

    ¡°Not much point in us coming out here then,¡± I grumbled.

    It was going to take time for the police to redeploy their men to the area. Veronica, Genta and I could be there within hours ¨C though with less force of arms to bear against an enemy that saw no issue in responding to any threat with violence.

    ¡°Not necessarily, the presence of the black stone in the soles of the discarded shoes tells us that they¡¯re hiding in a location outside of the town itself - and Genta inferred some important details from the runes they drew.¡±

    ¡°Make all the excuses you please. We should have guessed that they¡¯d make themselves obvious in time.¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t lost that much time. It¡¯s a few hours from here on the train.¡±

    ¡°Did you tell them about the leak?¡±

    ¡°I did.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t trust anyone with any information, it seemed. Adrian already ran afoul of that when an unknown actor sold the secret of his family¡¯s watch to Cordia and her goons. Opportunists were everywhere.

    ¡°I hope you weren¡¯t the one who told them,¡± Veronica joked.

    ¡°Obviously not. We¡¯ve been together for the past three days.¡±

    Veronica deflated, ¡°You really don¡¯t play along, do you?¡±

    ¡°Apologies for not being in an oafish mood while my Father remains under threat of imminent execution for the sake of summoning a world-ending demon. I don¡¯t imagine that you¡¯ll step up and take his place as my sole parental figure should we fail to rescue him.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t prodded her about our relationship for some time. I wanted to keep her off-balance, so I would randomly bring it up whenever I could. It rattled her very easily and I could tell that she desperately wanted to dispel whatever illusions I held, but couldn¡¯t because of her obligations to the WISA. She was getting frustrated about it. She wished that we didn¡¯t look so alike so she could play it all off as a coincidence.

    But she must have also caught on to what I was trying to do. I was prying her open, trying to find a sensitive subject to exploit and attack her with. She came prepared with that kind of psychological training. Our first meeting was not an out-of-control leak of privileged information. She assessed how much I could determine and offered a little extra to make me shut up.

    It was better to offer some vague details than getting tricked into revealing something truly damaging.

    ¡°So little trust, even after our bonding experience on that train.¡±

    ¡°Our relationship thus far has been entirely transactional. I don¡¯t trust you because you helped me fight off those Scuncath. If I weren¡¯t there ¨C you would have died, and you know that well. You¡¯ll keep me around for as long as you find me useful.¡±

    ¡°Are you displeased?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care either way. I wasn¡¯t expecting any more from you. I have nothing left to share in return for those secrets of yours. The only one of value is far in excess of whatever else you¡¯re holding close to your chest.¡±

    Veronica scoffed, ¡°Surely not.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t believe me, it isn¡¯t a problem. I was never going to tell. Why would one spend far more than the price of what they receive in return?¡±

    ¡°I do wish you¡¯d stop trying to make me curious. It¡¯s safer for you to not know about me or what I do.¡±

    ¡°I already know what you do. You¡¯re an officer for the WISA ¨C and you take care of the messy business that they don¡¯t trust the police to handle. It¡¯s elementary when you think about it. The gate is open and the horse has bolted, as they say.¡±

    Veronica shook her head, ¡°There¡¯s a lot more to it than that.¡±

    ¡°But you won¡¯t tell me ¨C so what good is that to me? I understand the fundamentals. I highly doubt that the details will alter our relationship, my opinion of you, or endanger me in the way you describe.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ve told your academy friends about your skill with a gun? Or that you¡¯ve taken another¡¯s life on multiple occasions? It¡¯s fine to bleat about being honest and open, but you¡¯re hardly a sterling example of that in practice.¡±

    ¡°One of them does know, actually.¡±

    ¡°And how did that turn out for you?¡±

    I wanted to say that Samantha was just fine and that our relationship hadn¡¯t changed all that much as a result ¨C but recent events gave me a reason for pause. Were things really okay? Samantha had been avoiding me ever since we wrapped up the business with Cordia and Caius. She was at the end of her rope. She couldn¡¯t ignore who I really was anymore.

    At the same time, I¡¯d yet to hear her final word on the matter. I needed to speak with her again and clear the air to be certain. It might have been a different problem. Veronica took my silence as evidence of her catching me in an unescapable bind.

    ¡°See? Honesty is not always the best policy. I envy people who are permitted to live in ignorance of how the gears turn. I¡¯d be happier not knowing what I do.¡±

    ¡°Would you really? You¡¯re only saying that to try and oppose me. I don¡¯t believe that you¡¯d prefer that at all. If I promised to wipe your memory of all of those uncomfortable truths, you wouldn¡¯t be comfortable with letting me do so.¡±

    Bluster was easy ¨C but backing it up with action was hard.

    The only reason to fear knowing the truth is a strong sense of helplessness. Victoria did not believe that she could create a more just world with that knowledge, that it was impossible and meaningless to possess it at all. I disagreed. The march of progress would continue, and it would be driven by the wider public realizing that which scientists and psychologists discussed and wrote about every day. A just society demanded it.

    I was starting to get where Veronica was coming from. In a similar way, I did not believe that my ability to end lives would prove ultimately beneficial to anyone. Still ¨C I refused to blind myself to the reality I lived in. It was odd, but nobody would give up their modern comforts for the sake of living in pleased ignorance. They instinctually understood that wisdom would lead to a better life.

    ¡°This is all way off course. The simple fact is that knowing this particular information is dangerous. I don¡¯t need to explain why that is.¡±

    ¡°You were the one who tried to turn it into a discussion about society-wide transparency,¡± I droned, ¡°If there are people who harm you under the presumption that you know too much, then obviously there¡¯s a direct link ¨C but that speaks more to a deficiency of their morals than anything else.¡±

    This argument was pointless. We¡¯d ended in the same place we started, though Veronica seemed to take my shelving of the discussion as a clear sign of her victory. I sat down on a bench and looked up into the branches of the tree that towered over my head.

    Genta returned some time later with a bag filled with what could only be described succinctly as ¡®stuff.¡¯ He was under the impression that our excursion to Channery would last for a month, given the sheer quantity of different items he¡¯d procured during his shopping trip.

    ¡°You look tooled up and ready to go,¡± Veronica observed.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°You can never be too prepared. I wanted to ensure that I had all of the necessities before we departed for Channery. I¡¯m afraid I didn¡¯t bring enough spare clothes and food to last the whole trip!¡±

    I pinched the bridge of my nose, ¡°Channery isn¡¯t in the damned wilderness, Doctor Cambry. It¡¯s a large town with thousands of residents. We can easily find food while we¡¯re there.¡±

    ¡°Thousands?¡± Genta repeated, ¡°Only thousands? I don¡¯t like taking chances. You never know how the day will turn once you¡¯re there!¡±

    I was surrounded by morons. I could only hope that Samantha was having a better time than I was.

    <hr>

    ¡°Roderro, on your feet.¡±

    It was an unwelcome surprise when two of the cultists arrived at the cell that morning. Adrian peered through his arms at the twin escorts with scorn in his gaze. He feared that he was the first person to be killed. Nothing good could come of being singled out and moved away from his fellow prisoners.

    There was nothing he could do to resist though. He followed along like a good boy until they reached the first floor of the fort. Rather than heading into the dining room from before, they took another left and headed down a long corridor filled with doors. Adrian was brought to one of them and left to knock on his own.

    ¡°Come in.¡±

    Rather than a set of gallows or a mass grave ¨C he found himself face-to-face with the man who brought them here. Hoffman sat behind a wooden desk. The office he was using was not in good shape, having been abandoned by the original military users some two decades ago. He had no time for bringing in home comforts. Adrian remained silent. There was nothing to say to Hoffman that he hadn¡¯t already tried the day before during breakfast.

    It was he who finally broke the ice, ¡°Adrian Roderro. What a curious life you lead.¡±

    ¡°As in?¡±

    ¡°A young man forced to reckon with the misdeeds of his Father, forced into a position of immense responsibility. There are very few men your age who are tasked with holding the lives of so many in your hands.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t hold anyone¡¯s life for bargaining, Hoffman.¡±

    ¡°But you do,¡± he replied gruffly, ¡°You do hold a lot over them. All of the men and women who rely on your good sense to provide them with jobs and security. You could snap your fingers and see the back of all of them. All it takes is a moment of madness to send thousands of people into a life-changing crisis. Their debtors will not wait, nor will they lend them a sympathetic ear.¡±

    Adrian had little patience for these games. Hoffman was trying to shake his confidence or make him think in a manner which benefitted him. There was no common ground upon which they could stand. Adrian abhorred everything that Hoffman stood for. He saw him as nothing but a mad criminal who justified his misdeeds with emotionally complex, but ultimately meaningless, pretext.

    ¡°You could say the same for a lot of people who run businesses. I fail to see why my position is so unique. You propose hypothetical scenarios that have no bearing on what we¡¯re doing here.¡±

    Hoffman grinned with his crooked teeth, ¡°I was merely complimenting your composure. I am certain that I would not be able to handle it, yet here you are, fifty years my junior, handling it with a stiff upper lip.¡±

    ¡°Get to the point, you bloviating fool. I¡¯d rather spend another week chilled to my bone in the cells than listen to one more second of your inane philosophy.¡±

    Hoffman was insulted by his dismissive attitude, ¡°It¡¯s actually rather simple, Mister Roderro. Based on principles that have long been accepted by the faithful in Walser.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Aye. A simple study of our history shows a pattern of great import. Times of affluence are inevitably contrasted with those filled with struggle. These represent the shifting balance of power between our twin Goddesses.¡±

    ¡°What a tedious waste of my time,¡± Adrian complained, ¡°Do you honestly mean to try and win us over with reasoning as vacuous as that? That which you speak of without evidence can just as easily be dismissed. Kill us and be done with it, if that¡¯s what you intend.¡±

    ¡°We have all heard the voice of the Goddess at least once in our lives. I was hoping that you and your compatriots would be able to appreciate what we mean to do. We will prevent Walser¡¯s destruction, nay, perhaps even the world at large, and your blood is the key that allows us to do so.¡±

    Adrian stared at Hoffman and manipulated the different facts he knew about the man in his mind, rearranging them and trying to put them into a new light. He clearly held delusions of grandeur. He earnestly believed that his schemes would be seen in retrospect as being for a noble cause. What was the point? Was this all for his own self-satisfaction?

    Adrian probed his motivations with a simple statement, ¡°Nobody is going to understand you, Hoffman. They¡¯ve already reached their conclusions, and I don¡¯t feel that they¡¯re mistaken when they speak poorly of the Scuncath.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t beg for their understanding.¡±

    ¡°Then why did you bring me here to try and coddle my feelings? Did you want me to blankly nod along with whatever you say and agree to be murdered? What a sad man you are. I won¡¯t play along with this idiocy, dressing up this viciousness with a kind word and well-meaning metaphor.¡±

    ¡°This is not viciousness. It is a kindness. They can damn my name to hell and back, and I¡¯ll still do what I feel is needed. Everyone feels that they are above making righteous sacrifices, but deep down in their hearts, they acknowledge that it need must be done.¡±

    ¡°What is the purpose of this? To start more wars on our continent? Killing us isn¡¯t going to do that.¡±

    Hoffman shook his head, ¡°This is a blameless crisis. I do not mean to say that our leaders should throw us into the restless tides of war once again. Conflict is inevitable, yet we have experienced years of peace. Something is terribly wrong. The balance between the twin Goddesses is faltering. If we allow it to continue, the event that will occur to ¡®balance¡¯ it again may well end this world. I am not willing to take that chance.¡±

    Adrian was on the fence before, but now he was certain that Hoffman was a man robbed of his good senses by the civil war. No right-minded individual would take an absurd chance like this even for a perceived righteous end. There was no evidence to support his claim, just the unseen, the irrational, the emotional. What a convenient way to live.

    None of this made sense. They¡¯d reached a conclusion about a great disaster befalling Walser and used that conclusion as proof that they needed to murder and pillage their way to an unknown solution. Adrian had his doubts about their deaths destabilizing the nation to that extent. The common labourers wouldn¡¯t shed a tear for the loss. The person in charge would rotate to the next and life would go on.

    Adrian did not understand the Scuncath, nor did he have any desire to. It was contradiction piled on top of contradiction, a messy scramble of social and political ideas enhanced by devotion to their faith. Hoffman was special alright. It took a special kind of lunatic to get them to work together as a singular unit. He must have convinced the rest of them that his prophecy was true. There was no greater motivator than a fear of death but even that was no guarantee.

    ¡°To me, it sounds like you can¡¯t accept that a better life is possible.¡±

    Hoffman opened his mouth to respond but no words emerged. He was not expecting such an abridged response to the story he was sharing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s envy, or rage, or a desire for revenge ¨C but it¡¯s sad all the same. You can¡¯t bring yourself to celebrate what should be a good thing. You attach all kinds of conditions and hypotheticals and justify them using your faith, and you never reassess that belief when your predictions don¡¯t come to pass.¡±

    Hoffman latched on to Adrian¡¯s last statement, ¡°We have not yet reached the anointed time. When it comes, I will be glad to see my fears unrealized.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me. That means that you¡¯ll still kill us based on nothing. If nothing does happen, then you¡¯ll credit yourself for a job well done.¡±

    Hoffman chuckled, ¡°I¡¯m not risking the existence of this world, you¡¯re right. When you live through the civil war ¨C such a cost paid in blood seems minuscule. The scars will heal with time, and people will move on happy in the knowledge that their futures are secured.¡±

    ¡°From where I¡¯m sitting it doesn¡¯t seem like those scars are healed at all. The fact that you so willingly bloody your hands for a vague reason is all the proof I need. You no longer understand the value of the lives you claim to be saving.¡±

    ¡°And what value did your Father place on the life of the Escobarus boy?¡±

    ¡°Quite a lot, actually. He wanted him to die because ¡®we¡¯ stood to gain hundreds of millions of marks from the endeavour. There¡¯s no better representation of value, in my opinion, than money.¡±

    ¡°Money is a fickle thing.¡±

    ¡°Yet we rely on it for our livelihoods, and everyone agrees to play by the rules and use it to pay for goods and services. I don¡¯t believe that my Father is decent, or was in his right mind when he chose to launch his plan, but some choose to kill for no reason at all. You could say that he¡¯s more decent than any of you.¡±

    Adrian smirked at Hoffman¡¯s reaction to the punchline he was waiting to deliver. He knew that it was a terrible idea to antagonize the man who was holding them hostage for some kind of murderous plot, but Adrian was a naturally confrontational person. He could not resist the urge to outrage and upset in the face of adversity.

    Hoffman bristled at the mere suggestion that he was anywhere near to his imprisoned Father. He was too high on the rush of executing his will to accept that Adrian¡¯s perspective was different to his. His face was turning red, but he calmed himself with a deep breath and an accusatory wag of his finger.

    ¡°This is the problem. The new generation doesn¡¯t understand what it means to struggle, that suffering builds the resilience we need to keep marching on, come what may. I hope that in some small ways, our efforts here will ensure that this lesson is made clear.¡±

    Adrian scowled, ¡°Malice it is, then.¡±

    The pair stared each other down from across the table. The wailing wind brushed against the stone fortifications, a lingering high-pitched whistle that boiled over like a steaming kettle. Adrian felt his hair stand on end as the lumbering veteran tried to get a better measure of who he was through sight alone.

    The confrontation ended abruptly, with Hoffman leaning back in his chair and nodding his head in self-understanding. His answer was likely far from the truth. One couldn¡¯t appreciate others without speaking with them, that was a lesson that Adrian¡¯s Father instilled into him early during his tutorship for taking over the family.

    ¡°I was not anticipating that you would be so fierce, Mister Roderro. You have taken what small hardiness exists in trying circumstances and claimed it as your own.¡±

    Adrian did not need to hear any compliments from Hoffman.

    ¡°I was hoping to induct you into our cause, but I see that my hopes are misplaced.¡±

    That was the craziest damn thing he¡¯d said so far. Adrian stood from his seat and shook his head gravely, ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of this. I¡¯ve had enough scheming and conspiracy for one lifetime. It almost ruined me. I¡¯m not going to willingly submit myself to more of the same. Take me back to the cells.¡±

    Adrian got what he wanted. Hoffman spared him no more discussion. The guards were waiting for him outside the door, and they escorted him back down the way he came. Fernando and Damian were anxiously waiting by the metal bars for him when he returned.

    ¡°Goddess above. I thought they were going to kill you,¡± Damian worried.

    ¡°Not dead yet,¡± Adrian murmured. He spied on the guards while the moved to the next cell and pulled away another prisoner for a one-on-one talk with the boss. A thought occurred to him. Were they trying to sow the seeds of doubt between the prisoners before the date of their execution?

    ¡°What did they do?¡± Fernando asked.

    ¡°I think Hoffman is going through all of us and trying to find a weak link to recruit to his cult. Part of me feels that someone is going to crack and join him.¡±

    ¡°Likely, given the threat that is looming over us. But they would be wise to remember that there is no loyalty from those who see their lives as disposable. To join them now would be to merely delay your end.¡±

    Damian smiled, ¡°I¡¯m sure you gave him a piece of your mind, Sir Roderro.¡±

    ¡°Adrian is fine,¡± he responded, ¡°That Hoffman fellow is touched in the head. I asked him about why he was doing this and he sold me a tale about Walser becoming complacent after the civil war. He wants everyone to suffer like he did.¡±

    ¡°That is a dark path to tread. Destructive behaviour like that is not uncommon amongst us older folk. I count my blessings every day that I wasn¡¯t one of them.¡±

    Adrian turned to the elder Walston-Carter, ¡°You were involved in the civil war?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be hard-pressed to find anyone our age who wasn¡¯t. Although, I was unique amongst my present peers in that I found myself in the thick of it. This was before our businesses were doing quite so well. Making clothes and weapons for the military and dodging the militias, it was a chaotic time indeed.¡±

    ¡°So, you supported the monarchy.¡±

    ¡°Landowners didn¡¯t have a choice. It was use what resources we had for their sake or rot in the stockades, or worse. The only thing I could see were the civilians they made suffer. Never let them tell you that some of those men were heroes, in a righteous nation they¡¯d be hanging by the neck.¡±

    The sober tone of the discussion shocked Adrian back to reality. He was opening old wounds by asking about this. Fernando was silently stewing on the opposite wall. Adrian momentarily feared the start of a vicious fight between them, having been on opposite sides of the civil war at the time.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, Damian. They say forgive and forget, but there¡¯s no forgetting for the families of the victims. It was a happy end for those who did the worst. What a waste.¡±

    Or not. Perhaps the Escobarus¡¯ revolutionary reputation was overblown.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that both sides of the aisle can agree that nothing good will come of reigniting that old feud,¡± Damian said, ¡°If their intention is to bring conflict back to Walser, then we must do all we can to vigorously oppose them.¡±

    But from within a locked cell, what could they possibly do?

 Chapter 90

    The tension in the air was thicker than ever.

    Samantha, Claude and Maxwell reported the death of the constable to his comrades at the jailhouse. There was a shocked response from the remaining officers, but also a drive to track down and stop the people responsible. Chalmers and Jones warned Samantha that it would take another day or two for the reinforcements to arrive ¨C but that the response from the area Chief was quick.

    Samantha would have been happy to sit back and let the professionals handle it, but recent events filled her with a sense of unease. A slow reaction would allow the Scuncath to cause even more damage - they would kill more people and damage more personal property. Hearing that the person in charge was trying and failing to stop them was cold comfort.

    Samantha stayed by the front porch that evening. She felt isolated without Max and Claude around, even though her family were in the house at that moment. She stared out of the window and into the darkness beyond the fence that ran along the road. She was seeing things in the pitch black of night that weren¡¯t there. The minute movement of something reflected in her own eyes elicited a panicked response.

    This cycle played out two dozen times. Samantha would focus on one spot and try to see through the curtain. Nothing would happen. Nothing would continue to happen. Then she would trick herself into believing that a person was moving in the dark. Her heart would race, she even considered running to the closet and taking her Father¡¯s shotgun for protection.

    The constables were too busy protecting the main area of the town to worry about the farmers. It was even worse now that one of their number had been killed by the Scuncath. They didn¡¯t even have time to go and recover Fernwell¡¯s body; that was a job left to the mortician, and it had to be done in secrecy.

    Samantha couldn¡¯t wrap her head around it. Were they so afraid of provoking them that they were willing to risk the safety of everyone in town? In her eyes, it would have been much better to reveal what was happening to the residents so that they could take precautions and protect themselves.

    But no ¨C the constables insisted that the three students had to stay quiet about Fernwell¡¯s murder. They claimed that giving them any hints to the storm that was coming would jeopardize the police operation. They wanted all of the Scuncath to feel secure so that they¡¯d lower their guard before the counterattack, even if more townspeople died in the interim. Who knew how many other bodies were hidden in the ditches and out-of-season fields?

    It didn¡¯t feel right. It wasn¡¯t just. The residents had a need to know this information but it was being kept from them for a nebulous reason. The Scuncath weren¡¯t going anywhere, and she had little doubt that they were going to be equally vigilant no matter what rumours started being passed around between the townspeople.

    Eugene was sitting at the kitchen table, ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Sam?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°Nothing? You¡¯ve been watching the fence like a hawk for nearly two hours now. I don¡¯t believe there¡¯s anything of interest going on out there in the dark.¡±

    Samantha didn¡¯t respond. He was giving her grief just for standing by the window now? He was the one who was the most shaken by their previous encounter with two of the cultists, but Samantha only then realised that he was also uninformed about how dangerous they were.

    Eugene grumbled under his breath and stood up to better understand what Samantha was observing. He was not surprised to see nothing but the pitch black of sundown by the farms. There were no fancy lamps to keep the area illuminated, so by most people¡¯s standards things became dark very, very quickly.

    ¡°Are you still worried about those two drunks? They were running their mouths, trying to act tough. You shouldn¡¯t get all wrapped up in it. Talk is cheap.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried about them,¡± Samantha responded, but she was never any good at lying to her Father. He saw right through her. There was nothing he could do because she was as stubborn as a mule when a certain idea got into her head.

    Tobias emerged from the stairwell and observed the scene with a grimace, ¡°Are you two arguing again?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not arguing,¡± Samantha replied.

    ¡°You only say that when you¡¯re having a spat.¡±

    Tobias passed through the kitchen, took his coat, and headed towards the outhouse around the side of the property. The cities were awash with new indoor plumbing solutions for even the lowest-class workers, no such luxuries were coming to Channery any time soon. It was fine so long as the farmers took care in disposing of their waste responsibly and away from any water sources.

    ¡°Bloody hell that¡¯s cold!¡± Tobias gasped. He was wearing his evening clothes and they did little to keep the freeze from seeping in. He stepped into the outhouse and pulled the door shut so he could do his business in privacy.

    Meanwhile, Eugene was still trying to make Samantha budge.

    ¡°I appreciate the thought ¨C but you don¡¯t need to sit there on guard duty for the whole evening. You weren¡¯t doing this the other night after it happened.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with being cautious. I¡¯m more than happy to stand here for however long it takes.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know how long it¡¯ll take. Those two fellers could be halfway across Walser by now and you¡¯ll still be standing there waiting for them to show up. It¡¯s not worth the effort or the worry.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say, Dad.¡±

    He gave up for the moment. There were still more chores to run before the day was through. In particular, Meriden wanted him to help peel some potatoes for their dinner. It was a time-consuming process and often the only job she delegated to him. Of course, Eugene always tried to do more ¨C given that Meriden also helped with the farm. It was hard to believe that she used to be a woman with no experience in farming at all.

    He walked to the sack of spuds and grabbed a knife to begin the frustrating process of peeling the whole lot. It also allowed him to keep a close eye on what Samantha was doing by the window.

    Eugene understood that Samantha was reaching that age where she wanted to become more independent. He had no doubt that Samantha was mostly capable of looking after herself from day to day, teaching her those skills and instilling confidence were the biggest benefits of sending her to the academy.

    But she was still only thirteen ¡ª a big thirteen, but thirteen nonetheless.

    Eugene remembered his own adolescence well. He could clearly see his own feelings at the time. That bristling confidence and a rejection of the advice that his parents gave him. He thought he knew everything there was to know, but that meant that a lot of harsh lessons were waiting in the wings to surprise him.

    Samantha was a girl who valued honesty, and Eugene was always happy to have frank conversations with her about life, work, love and society. Sam took it all in stride and displayed her maturity. Tobias and Benjamin were completely different to her ¨C they never liked listening to what Eugene had to say during their teenage years.

    Those were some tough times. Samantha was a real angel in comparison.

    Eugene focused on peeling while casting an occasional glance towards his daughter. She was so rarely concerned with dark topics like crime or violence, so it was obvious that their threats had started to make her tread down a paranoid path. Maybe it wasn¡¯t healthy for her to see the world through rose-tinted lenses at her age.

    Eugene¡¯s thoughts faded away into the back of his mind as the repetitive food preparation took over. It was mundane enough to tune his attentiveness down but demanded precision from the risk of cutting his fingers in the process. The sound of the skin being pulled away from the inside flesh started to lull him into a tired state of mind.

    After almost twenty minutes of tackling the bag, movement in the top of his peripheral vision dragged him away. Samantha was squinting her eyes and leaning very close to the glass.

    ¡°There¡¯s someone out there. They have a lantern.¡±

    Tobias had not yet returned from his excursion to the outhouse. No doubt he was being pulled away by a last-minute job that had been overlooked before he came back inside. Samantha¡¯s nervousness continued to build. They were loitering by the front gate but she couldn¡¯t make out who it was.

    Samantha¡¯s heart leapt into her throat as they stepped across the threshold and entered the front pasture. She didn¡¯t take the time to explain to Eugene before she hurried over to the door and donned her boots and coat.

    ¡°Sam, where the heck are you going?¡±

    His exclamation of concern fell upon deaf ears. Eugene was forced to follow after her, scrambling around in the entryway to find his own shoes and lacing them up tight. Samantha was already halfway across the yard before he came through the door himself.

    The strangers, whom Samantha was already certain were the same two men who visited the evening before, were too close to the barn for her to stop.

    ¡°Hey! What are you two doing here? Get off our land!¡±

    Her warning only made them move with greater haste. The singular lantern moved through the dark, beckoning Samantha forward to see what was going on. As their figures became clearer with proximity, she observed the second shadow pulling out another lantern and lighting it using a match.

    ¡°Hurry up, arsehole!¡± the man on the right bellowed.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Shut up! I¡¯m doing it!¡±

    He wound up and swung the lantern around his body, revealing the handle at the apex of his movement. Samantha watched the lantern fly through the air in slow motion before it disappeared through one of the openings in the front fa?ade and landed with a shatter inside. The two figures disappeared back into the safety of the darkness for a brief moment.

    It was too late to stop them. The barn was already ablaze, the hay inside providing the perfect kindling for the lantern¡¯s flame. Samantha skidded to a halt in front of the doors as the animals inside brayed in distress. Those silhouettes were still lurking by the fence, but Samantha didn¡¯t need to see their faces to know who they were.

    ¡°Dad! They¡¯ve set the bloody barn on fire! Dad!¡± Samantha cried.

    Eugene headed out to see what the commotion was. There was still no sign of Tobias.

    Samantha knew who they were. She recognised their voices. It was the same two men who acted belligerently towards her Father. They¡¯d decided to follow through on their threat to try and burn their home to the ground. The Scuncath did not retreat now that their scheme was revealed, they continued to stand back and watch the barn burn while laughing and joking.

    ¡°Looks like you folks are going to have to build a new one!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not going to get the chance once we gut them!¡±

    Eugene had doubled back and grabbed the gun from near the door. That bravado did not last for very long once they noticed that the man barrelling towards them was holding a long arm in his clutches. What happened next was beyond anyone¡¯s control.

    One of the men attempted to draw his own weapon and fire back, but Eugene was already aiming at him. A deafening gunshot rang through the yard once he pulled the trigger. The shell struck the man in the shoulder, the force of the impact forcing him to drop his gun and collapse to the floor.

    Tobias, who was trying to work with the animals in the barn when the confrontation started, ran through the doors and directly into their grasp as he fled the flames. The other man pounced on top of him and tackled him to the ground. There was a violent struggle between the two, punches and kicks thrown in a desperate contest, but the fight ended once he drew a knife from his jacket and held it to Tobias¡¯ neck. The cold embrace of the metal edge made him freeze in place.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bloody move or the pretty boy gets it!¡±

    The Scuncath clambered back to his feet with an arm held around Tobias¡¯ neck. Eugene continued to aim the gun at him, but they both knew that he wasn¡¯t going to pull the trigger with his son in the iron sights.

    The injured cultist groaned in agony, writhing in the dirt and trying to stem the bleeding using the palm of his hand. With every second that passed during the standoff, more damage was being caused to the barn, and the animals that were sleeping inside were placed under threat.

    ¡°You think you can come onto my farm, burn down my property, and walk away without paying for it? You¡¯re stupider than you look!¡± Eugene spat.

    The hostage-taker was visibly nervous. He glanced at his injured friend and calculated the odds of him surviving his injury, and whether it was even worth it to stick around and try to rescue him. There was no honour amongst Scuncath ¨C and the decision he made was the obvious one.

    He pulled Tobias along with him and started to slowly back away towards the gate.

    ¡°Drop the gun. I let your lad go, and we all agree that this never happened.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not dropping this gun. You¡¯re going to let him go no matter what.¡±

    He motioned as if to stab his neck with the shiv, ¡°I¡¯m warning you! He¡¯s going to be bleeding all over the dirt if you don¡¯t back off!¡±

    Samantha suddenly found herself in the grip of her memories. All of the lessons that Maria taught her about dealing with dangerous situations flooded back into the forefront of her mind. He was using a knife. There was no good way to deal with someone using a knife. He could kill Tobias before Eugene could stop him.

    But he was trying to get away alive. They were violent and uncaring, but he was acting selfishly to preserve his own life. Letting Eugene drop his gun would be a terrible mistake. It would allow him to act with impunity in return for nothing.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stop aiming at him, Dad.¡±

    Eugene narrowed his gaze, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°He wants to get out of here without being shot. Giving him what he wants will mean he has no reason to keep Tobias alive. No matter what, you have to keep aiming at them.¡±

    That was easier said than done. Eugene would sooner take his own life than even risk the smallest chance of letting one of his children get hurt by his hand. He accepted the grim resolve and continued to aim at the pair. Samantha was right. He wanted to leave in one piece, and that was what they had to utilise to get Tobias back safely.

    Ben and Meriden watched from the porch as the situation unfolded. Neither dared get any closer should it provoke the man¡¯s wrath. The burning barn illuminated more and more of the property, revealing his panicked expression and heavy breathing. There was nowhere to hide.

    ¡°Let him go. I¡¯ll heal your friend and we¡¯ll turn you in to the constables. Don¡¯t make this any worse than it already is,¡± Samantha said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid enough to fall for that!¡± the man spat, ¡°I know what you country folk are like. Killing a few animals is enough to land a death sentence.¡±

    ¡°And so is getting shot during a standoff! You can take a chance on the justice system, or you can keep playing this game and risk getting killed.¡±

    Samantha felt that this was going nowhere. He was edging ever closer to the fence at the back of the field. He was going to make a break for it when the opportunity presented itself and potentially harm Tobias on the way out.

    Burning embers floated through the air.

    One small movement would sever Tobias¡¯ neck artery. Samantha watched him like a hawk, waiting for the precise moment during which she could strike back and rescue her brother from his clutches. Tobias had other ideas though. He kept a close watch on where his knife-wielding hand was going, and when he made the error of briefly moving it away from him...

    Tobias ducked, tugging himself free from the arm around his neck and dragging both himself and the Scuncath to their knees. He struggled to regain control of Tobias before Eugene fired, but Eugene was never going to risk hitting Tobias using the spread of a shotgun shell.

    Samantha didn¡¯t have time to hesitate. If she stood by and did nothing now, then one of her brothers was going to be seriously injured. It went against everything that Felipe and Miss Jennings had taught her during their magic lessons, but it was the only weapon that she had to defend him.

    The air crackled. Samantha cupped her hands as if to direct the magical energy swirling around her body. The Scuncath continued to lord over Tobias with a knife held in hand. A rush of adrenaline. The blink of an eye. A bolt of electrical energy shot through the air and pierced him in the chest.

    An almighty thunderclap rang out through the yard, the Scuncath flying several feet backwards from the force of the blow. His head hit the ground and he fell unconscious, still twitching as his muscles were seized and pulled taut by the impulse. Tobias squawked in shock and hurried away from the Scuncath before he was captured again.

    Meriden and Ben rushed over and opened the barn doors to try and rescue as many of the animals as they could, while Eugene grabbed a length of rope to tie up both criminals before they could escape.

    He cautiously approached the two unconscious men and tied their arms and legs so they couldn¡¯t move. The one who was hit by Samantha¡¯s lighting was still smoking ¨C it was highly unlikely that he was capable of getting back up after that, but he wasn¡¯t going to take chances.

    Once the injured man was restrained, Samantha used some of her healing magic to stop the bleeding. A doctor would need to extract the bullet later. Eugene patted her on the back with pride, ¡°Bloody hell Sam - you threw him halfway across the country!¡±

    Samantha started at the burning husk of what used to be their barn.

    ¡°Samantha, are you okay?¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°I should have said something. This is my fault.¡±

    ¡°Your fault? How is this your fault?¡±

    Samantha stared at her feet rather than admit the truth. She knew this was going to happen. If she had just told her Father that it was dangerous to deal with these cultists, then Tobias would have never been put into this situation.

    Tobias approached and put a hand on her other shoulder; ¡°Sam ¨C don¡¯t beat yourself up. I¡¯m fine. You saved my arse. I didn¡¯t know you could use your magic like that!¡±

    The barn was done for, but at least they¡¯d managed to save some of the livestock before they burnt to death. Meriden and Ben couldn¡¯t risk going inside again with the structure so compromised from the flames. Soon enough, the structural beams gave way and the entire thing collapsed in on itself. All of the movement came to a sudden halt as the family stepped back to reckon with the destruction of the barn. It was now nothing more than a burning pile of timber.

    But the worst part was that Eugene¡¯s beloved harvesting machine had gone up with it. There was no realistic chance of it surviving the intense heat. It had cost him nearly three years¡¯ worth of profits to buy originally. It paid itself off fairly quickly, but the upfront expense was still too much for him to swallow. The only silver lining was that it was the off-season, and harvesting the crop was still months away.

    ¡°Is everyone okay?¡± Meriden fretted.

    ¡°It looks like it,¡± Eugene sighed, ¡°I¡¯d better go and wake the constable.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± Samantha revealed.

    ¡°We can¡¯t? Why not?¡±

    ¡°...He¡¯s dead.¡±

    Eugene double-took, ¡°He¡¯s dead?¡±

    Samantha nodded silently. She bent over and cradled her knees, the smell of burnt wood filling her senses. This was her fault. She should have said something about how dangerous they were. Tobias was almost killed because of her indecision.

    Tobias threw up his hands, ¡°What the heck are we going to do with these two? We can¡¯t leave him with a bullet wound for the whole night. He¡¯s going to die.¡±

    Eugene wanted to say ¡®yes we can,¡¯ but letting one of the suspects die on his watch when there was something to be done about it would not endear them to the constables. They¡¯d have to haul both of them into town and alert one of the other officers.

    ¡°Are you sure that Fernwell is dead?¡± Eugene asked.

    ¡°Definitely,¡± Samantha replied, ¡°We saw some of these people throwing his body into an empty field.¡±

    Eugene was outraged, ¡°And you didn¡¯t tell us? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?¡±

    Samantha¡¯s voice was subdued as she explained, ¡°They told us to stay quiet. They¡¯re afraid of them catching on to what¡¯s happening and fleeing the town, or causing more damage to keep them busy. I didn¡¯t know what to say. I didn¡¯t expect them to come back and really try to burn down the house.¡±

    ¡°You have to take them into town, Eugene,¡± Meriden declared, ¡°We can¡¯t keep them here.¡±

    Eugene backed off from pressuring Samantha and straightened himself out. There was no need to put too much pressure on her after a stressful event like this. He turned to where the cart was usually kept by the side of the house; ¡°Are the horses okay?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re fine,¡± Ben nodded, ¡°I think we lost one of the pigs though.¡±

    ¡°Bastards. Did they have to do this on a cold night?¡± Eugene complained. Normally the animals were kept in their own areas, but on colder nights he would move them into the barn to keep the wind away.

    Samantha stood on the sidelines and watched her family navigate the messy consequences. Her mind wandered. How would Maria have handled this situation? She was always two steps ahead of everyone else. She probably would have spotted them from a mile away and shot them dead before they even thought about touching the barn or her brother.

    Samantha felt angry, and that was almost foreign to her. She detested the men who barged into their home, took away their security, and threatened to kill Tobias. She wanted them to suffer even more than they already had. But Samantha understood that it was a passing emotion. Not even Maria truthfully acted with that kind of malice, not unless she was exceptional at concealing it.

    ¡°I like to believe that everyone has a good reason for what they do ¨C but the unfortunate truth is that some of them do not. Some people merely wish to cause harm for harm¡¯s sake.¡±

    Maria said that in the aftermath of the theatre shooting, this was the first time Samantha had met one of those dangerous breeds. The Scuncath faith encouraged them to express their darkest and most violent impulses ¨C it was not a motivation, but an excuse. They enjoyed harming others simply for the rush it gave them.

    Meriden snapped her back to reality, ¡°Samantha ¨C let¡¯s go inside. You¡¯re going to catch a cold if you sit there any longer. Let Eugene and Ben take care of it.¡±

    Samantha hesitantly got to her feet and followed her and Tobias back into the house. Her mind and pulse raced, and she wondered if the pair would be safe heading into town alone at this time of night. But at the same time, casting the bolt that struck one of the attackers down had drained her physically, on top of the already heavy emotional toll. She couldn¡¯t go on any further than this.

    All Samantha could do was marvel at how Maria managed her nerves in times like these. She sat down at the kitchen table and stared blankly at the opposite wall for several minutes while an uneasy feeling started to boil in her stomach.

    Marvel. Marvel. Was that really the right word? It sounded almost complimentary.

    No. It wasn¡¯t a marvel at all.

    It was terrifying.

 Chapter 91

    Channery was dreary when we arrived on the train that evening. It was late thanks to some delays to our departure, and the sun had already set behind the rolling hills of Samantha¡¯s hometown. To make matters worse, we were then forced to spend another hour tracking down one of the few inns located in the centre with rooms available. We were lucky to even find an inn at all. Small towns like this didn¡¯t see many visitors.

    We ended up not doing anything at all, which was frustrating, but stumbling around in the dark in an area where electrical lights weren¡¯t widespread was going to get us nowhere, or potentially even kill us. The innkeeper, who was a sweet old woman, loudly questioned why we wanted to stay in town given the recent trouble.

    ¡®Trouble,¡¯ as it turned out, was a deluge of petty criminal offences committed by a group of strangers. Fights, robbery, and more. The jail was apparently overflowing with oddities who¡¯d been caught stirring shit up. The following morning was key to our investigation.

    ¡°Do you have any idea of where to start?¡±

    Veronica tapped the side of her nose and unfurled a map that she was keeping in her pocket onto the table. It was a surveyor¡¯s map, once used by the locals to plan out expansions for farms and mines. These maps weren¡¯t as precise as the ones made by professionals with all of their mathematic tools, but they utilised high ground and important landmarks to ground the reader in a specific place.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be hard to miss the forts and trenches once we start looking. With that said, it would be extremely inefficient for us to check every single one at random. There are dozens of forts within walking distance of here.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to speak with the constabulary and see if they have any pointers. From what I can tell, there¡¯s been a lot of reports made about the Scuncath¡¯s behaviour here. I heard rumblings that one of the farms was victim to an arson attack too.¡±

    That didn¡¯t sound good. There was only so much that their enigmatic leader could do to curtail their most violent impulses. The law of averages meant that out of the hundreds that were taking part in his plan, at least some were going to ignore his orders and bring a lot of heat into the town.

    And the heat was very much on the way at this point. Veronica had stated that they were already redeploying a large number of police officers and military reservists to the area to smoke the cultists out and rescue the kidnapped nobles. My cynical mind idly wondered if that kind of response would occur if they were people of common birth instead.

    It was true that this situation was a profound humiliation for the government and security apparatus. A rag-tag group of wanton murderers managed to pull a fast one and slip away with a lot of important scalps. They needed to show the public that they had the ability to secure Walser and prevent these types of attacks from happening.

    It was all about political convenience. Rescuing wealthy party donors and businessmen who could throw their clout around was convenient, but was the hit to public perception alone enough motivation to deploy the National Guard?

    ¡°The police won¡¯t be here until the evening, and they¡¯ll still take another day to launch their assault.¡±

    ¡°And by then they might have killed their sacrifices,¡± Genta speculated, ¡°It¡¯ll be the right time to begin any Horrcath summoning attempt. We can hope that they need more time to draw the circle. It¡¯s very intricate.¡±

    ¡°How intricate?¡± I asked.

    He pulled out his notebook and flipped to a page covered in complex runic designs, ¡°The circle must be large enough for the Horrcath to step through. Now, I don¡¯t know what they intend to summon exactly, but given the number of sacrifices taken ¨C I suspect that it¡¯ll be very large. They would need about four accurately drawn ¡®surings¡¯ to achieve their goal. Each suring will contain a hundred of these, but a single mistake will make the ceremony fail.¡±

    ¡°Can they try again?¡±

    ¡°Yes ¨C but they would have to quickly identify the issue and rectify it before the sacrifice¡¯s blood runs dry. It would make the Horrcath very grumpy to have cold bodies, and that would run the risk of nullifying their contract.¡±

    I chewed on his explanation for a moment, ¡°Wait ¨C you never mentioned a contract before.¡±

    Genta pushed his glasses up, ¡°We were in such a hurry that I decided to skip over that. The runes in the suring play a part in determining how the Horrcath behaves, but intelligent veil-creatures may speak with the invoker and request certain concessions. The... dog you described that attacked you on the train before would be incapable of such a thing, for example.¡±

    ¡°It attacked everyone.¡±

    ¡°That is because it was summoned using ¡®violence.¡¯ The method of summoning, and the strong emotions used, are what direct them in such a case. Horrcath are dangerous because they embody violence and revenge. Those feelings are all too common, but also the most destructive.¡±

    ¡°But you said they want a ¡®greed¡¯ demon.¡±

    ¡°It would be more accurate to describe it as envy,¡± Genta elaborated, ¡°They may represent more than one emotion, but those combinations can be unpredictable and difficult to control. Envy and greed are adjacent to violence, they¡¯re motivating factors, so there are Horrcath who breathe both like air. The worrying element is that envy is often an intelligent vice. They may be able to direct its ire in a certain direction.¡±

    Veronica shook her head, ¡°It¡¯s not going to get that far. We¡¯re going to stop them and get that book back before they lay a finger on any of the hostages.¡±

    Genta chuckled, ¡°When you put it like that ¨C I feel as if you may be able to, but I would warn you away from diving in headfirst if at all possible.¡±

    ¡°Of course. We¡¯re going to find out where they¡¯re hiding, see what type of security is in place, and then come up with a plan to break in and interfere with their plan.¡±

    I looked at my trunk and calculated how many bullets I still had; ¡°I don¡¯t believe we¡¯ll be able to shoot our way through this one, unless you have an armoury you¡¯ve been keeping from me this entire time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that of all my secrets, that is not one of them. Oh, what a convenience that would be!¡±

    We couldn¡¯t steal some from the constables either. They were lightly armed at best, and they were likely suffering from a lack of resources given their remote station. That left waiting for the police to arrive so that Veronica could get supplies from them. That hinged on Veronica being willing to engage with them though. She was very intent on keeping her presence a secret, even from them.

    ¡°Are you going to ask the police when they arrive?¡±

    Veronica laughed, ¡°No, no. I¡¯ll do no such thing. They can¡¯t know that I¡¯m here.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but it¡¯s okay if I do?¡±

    ¡°You figured me out during our first meeting! It¡¯s too late to be performing information control now.¡±

    ¡°So why are the police different?¡±

    ¡°My handler explicitly told me not to approach them. Not only are we dealing with a leak from inside the department, but there¡¯s also a risk that some of them are collaborators too.¡±

    I sighed. I was getting ahead of myself again. Veronica was right. We couldn¡¯t trust them, or anyone else for that matter. The only option left in my mind was to find the Scuncath¡¯s weapon storage and help ourselves to whatever we could get our hands on, but there was no guarantee that they had anything of worth. Some would be armed with crude blunt weapons or knives, and a smaller proportion would be given a gun.

    For that matter ¨C I didn¡¯t know what calibre the rounds would be in. If we got there and found ammo but no weapon chambered for it, it was as good as worthless. There were too many variables to worry about. Reducing the number would be essential to succeeding here.

    ¡°If they¡¯re in one of the forts that I think they are ¨C then the location will be something of a double-edged sword for them. The trench and tunnel networks around Channery are extensive. There are a lot of places to hide or retreat to, but that also means there are many points of entry that they have to watch.¡±

    ¡°Maybe this incident will motivate the government to finally clean the place up.¡±

    Veronica rolled her eyes, ¡°Unlikely. They are not liable to waste a perfectly usable military instillation in the event of another conflict.¡±

    With that debate out of the way, we got dressed, ate our breakfast, and moved out to get a start on our search for the Scuncath in question.

    When we got out onto the streets, there was a strong sense that something was wrong. There were people everywhere you looked, talking and gossiping, and sporting expressions of outrage that forecast unrest in the future. This was unusual. Everyone should have been busy working.

    The problem got worse the closer we came to finding the constabulary building. There was a full-fledged protest going on outside. At least one hundred local residents were standing across the street. At the head of the braying crowd was a tearful woman.

    ¡°My husband died in the line of duty, and they didn¡¯t see fit to tell us about it! What else are they hiding from us? I won¡¯t rest until these murderers are brought to justice!¡±

    The crowd roared in affirmation. Veronica whistled, ¡°Uh-oh. Looks like someone let the cat out of the bag.¡±

    ¡°They were idiots for expecting this to stay quiet. This is a small town and people talk. They never should have planned for it to go perfectly.¡±

    ¡°I know. I¡¯m not the one making the big decisions,¡± Veronica replied defensively. I wasn¡¯t accusing her of being involved, so that struck me as odd.

    Genta frowned, ¡°I can¡¯t believe they¡¯ve killed someone already.¡±

    It sounded like the arson attack really was connected with the Scuncath. Veronica left to ask some questions and screen the protestors. I stood back and let her work her magic this time. I continued to listen to the bereaved widow as she spoke about how betrayed she felt, that in her husband¡¯s death, she didn¡¯t receive the smallest bit of respect by being told about it.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    If they were covering up the murder, then the arson attack must have been the one that drew everyone¡¯s attention and made them feel that something strange was going on. From what I picked up, there were previous concerns about the way that the Scuncath behaved while in town but the locals were too polite to turn them away without a good reason.

    Well, they had a pair of good reasons now.

    The Scuncath were notable by their absence. They must have known what was going on and evacuated the town before a mob could catch them and deliver a quick guilty verdict.

    Veronica returned, ¡°It looks like some farmer hauled two of them to the jail last night after they burned down his barn. One of them was hit with gunfire but survived. They¡¯re locked up in that jail right now.¡±

    ¡°And the murderer?¡±

    ¡°No word on them. The constables said that an eyewitness saw a group of strangers leaving his body in a field down the road.¡±

    That was informative - but not helpful to us. We¡¯d need to speak with the constables directly and find out what they knew, but Veronica was trying to avoid flexing her credentials with too many people. If Veronica was not going to inquire with them, then we¡¯d need to do our own research.

    Veronica wordlessly led us away from the protest and down that same country road. We kept walking and walking until we finally came upon a line of trees that separated the road from one of the fields. Veronica wasn¡¯t trying to find the area where the body was dumped ¨C the constables had long since picked the place clean for clues.

    Putting myself into her shoes, I guessed that she was looking for someone to interrogate. Since they¡¯d cleared out of the town, that meant wandering the countryside looking for them. Our search went on for an hour, briefly visiting some of the nearby forts and knocking them off the list. They were too close to be safe for the Scuncath but it was worth making sure before we moved on.

    While it was easy to enjoy the sights and sounds of nature, I was starting to get impatient.

    ¡°We wouldn¡¯t have to do this if you spoke with the constables.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving a paper trail by flashing my badge to them. I don¡¯t need to.¡±

    ¡°Every second we waste because of that is a second in which they might just kill all of the hostages we¡¯re here to get back.¡±

    That got under her skin, ¡°Time is a resource and so is discretion. I¡¯ve been doing this for longer than you¡¯ve been alive, so don¡¯t cast doubt on my ability to judge how much time we have to use. You can stay at the hotel and wait if you prefer.¡±

    That was bullshit. The best way to manage this was to use every resource she had available to her. The odds were stacked against us from the start. The only reason not to was if she had an ulterior motive behind doing this. She was ¡®aiming¡¯ for the same goal as the police, but refused to work with them hand-in-hand. Infighting. It had to be, nothing else made sense.

    But I wasn¡¯t privy to the conflicts going on behind the curtain. It was nothing more than an educated guess that wouldn¡¯t change my approach to dealing with her. I was going to keep a hawkish watch over everything she did until our arrangement came to an end.

    A groan from an unseen source ended our petty fight before it got going. Veronica¡¯s head whipped in its direction and took off with borderline murderous intent. I followed behind and came across an unusual scene. A man, who was presumably blackout drunk, had tumbled into the roadside ditch and passed out.

    In any other circumstance a helpful traveller might have come to his aid and helped banish that hangover he was dealing with, but his clothes, and the tattoos on his arms, immediately marked him as one of the Scuncath we were searching for. Genta was sure to confirm it before we touched him.

    ¡°He¡¯s one of them. No doubt about it.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Veronica asked.

    ¡°That icon on his bicep is commonly used as a replacement for the more well-known runes. The only sort having that tattooed onto their bodies are bad news.¡±

    The ¡®icon¡¯ in question did bear a passing resemblance to some of the runs we¡¯d seen in the cottage. It was a triangular shape with a red circle outlined inside of it. Three distinct dashes were contained within the circle that formed an H shape with an elongated middle, skewering both sides that tried to border it.

    Veronica treated him with all of the tact and caution that I¡¯d come to expect from her. She got down onto her knees and slapped him silly. He sputtered awake with a start, only to find a muscular government agent pinning him to the floor using her knee. His struggles did not last for long. He was a weedy man with sunken eyes and messy hair.

    ¡°Get off of me you bloody bastard!¡±

    ¡°Apologies, but I was hoping to ask you a few questions.¡±

    His eyes squinted once the sun started to seep through the branches above our heads. He was hammered. I could smell the alcohol from the top of the incline. It was all over his clothes and in his breath.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying nothin¡¯ to you! Now bugger off!¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯ve been celebrating a little too much,¡± Veronica reprimanded, ¡°As it happens ¨C we¡¯re searching for any Scuncath who¡¯ve decided to hide out here in the countryside. You wouldn¡¯t know where we could find them, would you?¡±

    His hand reached up and slapped down on her leg, but the combination of her words, and the feeling of the gun hidden beneath the skirt which he was now touching, made him change tact so suddenly that I almost suffered whiplash.

    ¡°Scuncath? I ain¡¯t heard of no bloody Scuncath around here! No Madam, I have not!¡±

    Veronica ditched subtlety in response; ¡°Didn¡¯t your Mother ever teach you not to tell lies? I already know that you¡¯re one of them, and you¡¯re going to tell me exactly where your friends are hiding or they¡¯re going to find your dead body in these fields next!¡±

    Being hungover, he immediately cracked and started to panic.

    ¡°I swear, I don¡¯t know anything! I¡¯m not a bloody Scuncath! I¡¯ve never even met one before! You¡¯re not going to touch me, not with a little girl standing right there!¡±

    He pointed at me, but I only shrugged in response, ¡°Don¡¯t ask me to get involved. I¡¯m even worse than she is.¡±

    Bad cop and bad cop ¨C that was an equation that he didn¡¯t like. His eyes darted every which way but Veronica¡¯s face. He was trying to come up with a way to weasel out of this. His time was already up. Veronica wasn¡¯t going to pin him down and make him sweat forever.

    She released him from her hold momentarily, gripping the front of his shirt and hoisting him back up to his feet. We crossed over the ditch and through the treeline onto the field that rested to our side. It was empty, tilled ground ¨C though the farmer who owned it was maintaining the surrounding flora to keep the area clear. A pile of chopped lumber was left with the axe still embedded into the wood.

    ¡°I¡¯d suggest turning away for this bit.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing I haven¡¯t seen before,¡± I replied.

    Genta, in contrast, turned his back and plugged his ears like a child who heard a swear word on accident.

    Veronica warned him for the last time, ¡°This is your last chance to give me something helpful. Every time you try to screw with me after this, I¡¯ll start breaking pieces of you until you spill where they¡¯re hiding.¡±

    He remained defiant even as he was being pushed towards the firewood pile, ¡°You¡¯re just bluffing! I¡¯m no Scuncath. The constables are going to have your head if you touch me!¡±

    ¡°Quit your whining. The constable is going to peg you as a damnable drunken fool, and he¡¯d be right! Goddess knows how you Scuncath pulled one over on us when your ranks are stuffed full of miscreants and ruffians.¡±

    Veronica shoved him into the dirt, before pouncing and grabbing one of his arms. She placed his hand flat against the trunk of the felled tree. He pulled it away again, but the second time was enough to make him get the picture. Hunched over and with his lips sealed tight ¨C Veronica conjured up a cruel way to make his mouth move again.

    She threw her boot up into the air and came down on top of his finger. A sickening crack was the signal for both me and Genta to wince in response. The man yelled a short, sharp roar of pain and fell back onto his ass, clutching the shattered fingers with his good hand. I knew how that felt all too well.

    Veronica was already on top of him again, dragging him by his collar; ¡°You¡¯ve still got a few more digits to play with. You can save them, or let me have a go with them. Your choice.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you, I¡¯ll tell you!¡± he begged.

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, ¡°The fort. They¡¯re staying in one of the forts.¡±

    ¡°There are dozens of them, which one?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know their names!¡±

    Wrong answer. Veronica stamped down on his ankle this time, not hard enough to break it, but enough to make him aware of how fragile the human body could be when it came to blunt force trauma.

    ¡°It¡¯s at the top of a big hill, to the north of here!¡± he gasped, ¡°I promise. I¡¯m not joking!¡±

    ¡°Is that good enough for you?¡± I asked.

    Veronica deliberated on his answer for a few moments before seemingly backing away.

    ¡°There are only a few forts that meet that description. Wellworth Battery, Spurbank, and Formstone. But they have to be close enough to Channery so that they can do supply runs.¡±

    The Scuncath nodded, ¡°W-Well, they¡¯ve been stockpiling food for a while now. They won¡¯t need to leave again until everything is done. I swear on my life.¡± He scrambled back and cowered on the ground. The desperation in his voice was convincing, but the unfortunate truth was that torture never delivered precise results. He might have been making it up.

    Veronica had a choice to make. Cut him loose and take a chance on what he¡¯d said, or push it further and risk receiving nothing more than a reiteration of his previous statement.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know the name of the fort?¡±

    The Scuncath was desperately trying to avoid mentioning specifics here. He wanted to give enough information to get away while also obstructing our attempts to locate them. The question I had was whether he understood that an attack on the fort was an inevitability. He wasn¡¯t risking anything more by telling the truth to us, at least as far as he knew.

    Sensing that Veronica was about to cripple his other hand too, he cracked.

    ¡°Okay, okay. You¡¯ve... you jogged my memory. It¡¯s Spurbank, I swear on my life. It¡¯s Spurbank!¡±

    Veronica released his collar, ¡°See. That wasn¡¯t so hard, was it?¡±

    He clutched his shattered fingers with a furious scowl. It was pretty hard from his perspective. This was the quality of human they were sending into town? A worthless drunk who didn¡¯t even comprehend where he was or what was happening. What a contemptible sort he was, presumably responsible for causing harm too.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You can¡¯t do nothing,¡± he spat, ¡°What are you going to do on your own? Go over there and get shot to death? There are a lot more blokes than me waiting in that fort. They¡¯ll give you hell, they will.¡±

    ¡°What kind of fool do you take me for?¡± Veronica laughed, ¡°I¡¯m not a one-woman-army. I¡¯ll leave all of the heavy lifting to the police.¡±

    The penny dropped.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t with the police or the constables?¡±

    She leaned in from above, ¡°That¡¯s right. I¡¯m something much, much scarier.¡±

    He yelped and scrambled back, having seen a glint in her eyes that he didn¡¯t appreciate. This was the silent menace that I¡¯d seen beneath the surface during our first meeting. This megalomania didn¡¯t manifest during the fight on the train ¨C back there she was all business, like it was nothing more than a mild inconvenience or a part of her routine.

    Here though, she was enjoying this.

    ¡°We¡¯re not here to have fun terrorizing them,¡± I commented.

    ¡°Who says I¡¯m having fun?¡± she replied, like a petulant child who didn¡¯t want to be called out for something she was very obviously doing right in front of me.

    I wasn¡¯t going to get dragged into an argument about it, ¡°We have what we want. Let¡¯s be off.¡±

    Veronica was already reaching to her thigh when I said it. I couldn¡¯t stop her as she drew her pistol and shot the man dead right in front of me, through the chest, and then the head. The carefully tilled soil was irrigated with his blood. Genta almost leapt out of his skin, having kept his back turned the entire time.

    She stared at me as if to ask ¡®do you find that distasteful?¡¯ When she received no verbal response from me, she launched into an explanation that I didn¡¯t ask for.

    ¡°I can¡¯t let him live knowing I¡¯ve been asking around.¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°If you say so. I thought it would be more constructive to take him to the constables in case he was lying to us.¡±

    She hadn¡¯t even considered that before shooting him twice at point-blank range.

    ¡°Well - these fellows grow on trees around here. If he talking bollocks we can go find another one.¡±

    Genta remained mum as we crossed the ditch again and joined the main road. There was no time to worry about hiding the body. We needed to reach Spurbank and find out what was going on. From there we could formulate a plan to infiltrate the place, recovering both the book and the hostages.

    I made it sound so easy.

 Chapter 92

    We headed North from the town and towards Spurbank Fort. As we got closer to the area, that distinctive black stone started to poke through the grass. This area used to be heavily mined before the war, but modern construction techniques rendered the stone less desirable than it was before.

    Spurbank was largely constructed from it. The fort could be seen for miles around, perched atop one of the many hills that surrounded Channery. It was one of the largest forts constructed during the Civil War, intended to form a long line of defence through the middle of the countryside and prevent an enemy advance with cannon-based fire support.

    Despite being abandoned for years, the sturdy build meant that it easily withstood the elements. The defences were multi-layered, with an exterior wooden wall bottomed out with trenches and spikes. Beyond that lay the interior courtyard of the main building.

    It was surrounded on all sides by a network of trenches. They were deep enough to conceal anyone moving through them without any special consideration. Using them, the defenders of the fort could move throughout the area and launch ambushes on attacking enemies, or hunker down and stop charges from cavalry and infantry. For our purposes, it also served as an easy escape route should the fort be breached.

    We were on one of the hills across from the fort. Veronica retrieved a spyglass from her bag and started studying the area for clues while we hid behind the treeline to conceal our presence.  Seeing a head poke over the edge of one of those trenches like a groundhog from a hole confirmed our suspicions. This was the place.

    ¡°They have men on watch,¡± Veronica observed succinctly.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need magnification to see that. They¡¯re buzzing like a hive of insects.¡±

    ¡°The road we passed over before we arrived showed signs of recent use too. They must have transported their supplies here and hunkered down to try and weather the storm that¡¯s coming.¡±

    ¡°Do you think they can?¡±

    She folded it back up and slipped it into her pocket, ¡°Hm. The police aren¡¯t experienced in siege warfare but deploying a military response will take too long. They have to handle it because nobody else will.¡±

    With that, we moved back behind the trees and explored the surrounding area, looking for forward alarms and potential entryways. The trenches were extremely long, spitting the occupants out into the countryside. Some of the ditches from the fields were used as makeshift defences if the first line failed, though the preparation required to do that was beyond the current owners.

    We did spy several more Scuncath milling around the place. Some were carrying boxes, others were armed with bolt-action rifles or small arms. It was unlikely they could hit a human-sized target from their current positions, but the long sightlines gave them a lot of room for advanced warning.

    It was going to be difficult for the police. Veronica was correct in her assessment. They were used to bludgeoning petty thieves or chasing down pickpockets, not launching a siege on a huge fortification. They wouldn¡¯t be bringing cannons to bear to crack the walls and shatter their lines. It would be horses, pistols, and the occasional shotgun if they were lucky.

    No, that wouldn¡¯t work if they were willing to kill the hostages to spite them in response. A more surgical approach would be necessary to rescue my Father and the rest.

    Genta spoke up, ¡°Uh, Veronica ¨C do you mind?¡±

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡±

    ¡°I need to use the bathroom. Might I take a short detour?¡±

    ¡°There are no bathrooms out here, not even in the farmhouses.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°Then he¡¯ll just have to use a tree. Nobody is going to see him.¡±

    Genta was caught off-guard by my rather flippant treatment of handling his excretions. A noble lady with an accent like mine should have gone white as a sheet at the mere thought of urinating outside and without plumbing.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a moment!¡±

    Genta hobbled away from us to find an appropriately secretive spot. My cynical mind was imagining him running away after what Veronica did to the Scuncath we found blackout drunk by the road. I leaned against one of the trees and enjoyed the countryside air for a moment. Veronica had other ideas.

    ¡°We never had a proper discussion about that train incident.¡±

    ¡°What is there to discuss?¡±

    ¡°I heard that you liked shooting - the sport, but there¡¯s a big difference between that and learning to take someone¡¯s life. What you did back there was unusual, to say the least.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re worried,¡± I stated bluntly.

    That threw her for a loop, ¡°I don¡¯t get worried.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me obvious lies like that. You¡¯ve already indicated that you have done various things for the sake of protecting me, that¡¯s why you weren¡¯t at the house or there to raise me ¨C because you were worried. There¡¯s nothing wrong with being worried, you know. I¡¯m not here to titter at you like a tedious pedant.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve done enough of that already.¡±

    ¡°What I¡¯m saying is that your actions are entirely understandable from that perspective.¡±

    ¡°Why do you always try to analyse what I do? I could just be doing this for the sake of keeping my cover,¡± she growled.

    ¡°Keeping your cover? You brought me along to keep an eye on me. You could have left me back there and dealt with the consequences later.¡±

    ¡°And my choice was ultimately vindicated. I don¡¯t want a destructive actor like you sticking your nose where it doesn¡¯t belong. Your heroics are noble but pointless ¨C there are some facts that cannot be changed through pure motivations.¡±

    She saw me as some garden-variety idiot. She¡¯d conjured up images of me running headlong into danger without planning and preparation. Even after the train incident, she did not acknowledge me as someone who was capable of handling themselves. She wanted total control over me.

    I agreed to that at the time to make her bring me along. She must have understood then that I was not going to take ¡®no¡¯ for an answer. There was that glimmer in my eyes that equal parts worried and assured her. It was the same look that she had in hers. I¡¯d inherited more than just their colour. We were birds of a feather.

    But she was not going to trick herself into believing that I somehow inherited her willingness to kill. That was a line that could only be crossed after a lot of training and focus. To accept the weight of each life taken and the emotions that came with it, and to never treat it frivolously. I could get angry at them and harm them but it was essential to keep a hold of my senses in the aftermath.

    Though such a distinction mattered little now that I had no economic motive for my acts. I tried to get a fresh start, but that wasn¡¯t what Durandia wanted from me. She needed a problem solver, and a lot of problems unfortunately involved extreme violence. Negotiation with an apocalyptic death cult? Out of the question, it seemed.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t done anything that you have not given me permission to do,¡± I countered, ¡°I am more than capable of seeing the value in maintaining a coordinated approach. Should I have left you to be consumed by that Horrcath?¡±

    ¡°I would have killed it myself.¡±

    Now that was petty. How could she have shot the chains while being chased exactly?

    Free from Genta¡¯s prying ears, Veronica decided to deliver some frank honesty. She took a deep breath and came out with confirmation of one of my pet theories.

    ¡°I left because I wanted you to have a normal childhood. I wanted you to enjoy all the things that I never got the chance to, and I thought that Damian would be able to give that to you.¡±

    She wanted to know, oh so badly, when and where I learned to kill people like she did. But the problem was that there was no satisfactory answer that I could offer her, even if I were feeling generous.

    ¡°It is not Father¡¯s fault.¡±

    She closed in until we were face-to-face, her voice intense and low; ¡°How can you say that? It was his responsibility to watch you. He must have had a serious lapse in concentration to miss you learning how to kill people!¡±

    ¡°This... whatever this is, was set into motion long before you even considered giving birth to me. There¡¯s nothing either you or he could have done about it.¡±

    ¡°What the hell is that supposed to mean?¡± she whispered.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been touched by the Goddess!¡± I said half-jokingly, ¡°My divine purpose is to be here and deliver punishment to wrongdoers. To that end ¨C I was granted the ability to fight and utilise magic.¡±

    She didn¡¯t believe me. She shook her head and stepped back, ¡°Ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°If you feel like searching for eyewitnesses, paper trails, or other evidence of when and where I learnt these things, then I recommend that you save yourself the trouble and the time.¡±

    ¡°Stop playing games. I know that you aren¡¯t going to share truthful information with me unless I give you something in return.¡±

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°You did. You said you left me with Damian to protect me. I presume that also extends to rendering yourself absent from my life until now. Did you worry that they¡¯d kill me, or take me away if they found out? I must say, a greater effort to distance ourselves aesthetically would have helped. There¡¯s no question that we are mother and daughter.¡±

    ¡°Did the person who taught you how to kill give you that forked tongue as well?¡±

    ¡°No. This is of my own making. The point is that your desire to keep this information from me has done nothing. We still find ourselves in the same situation you feared all those years ago. The truth always comes out in the end.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve enjoyed thirteen years of peace because of me. Don¡¯t underestimate how much damage my handlers can cause if you show them a single sign of weakness.¡±

    ¡°My knowing about this would change nothing. I was hardly going to abandon my responsibilities and go on a wild goose chase looking for you. The only thing that matters is whether they know who I am. The burden is all on you.¡±

    ¡°If they knew, you and I would be long dead. I had to minimize that risk. Transparency is not always a positive.¡±

    The issue was more nuanced than that, and I accepted as such. There were times when keeping a hostile person in the dark was helpful, but there were other times when the spread of knowledge was a good thing. Medicine, literacy, sciences and mass media were the tools by which the lower classes ascended and became more engaged with the society they lived in.

    Turmoil was an inevitable side effect. It was not something that could be controlled. As nations industrialised and more skilled workers were demanded, the more educated and critical they became. Total control meant economic and social devastation, to drain the fight from every citizen until they gave up on the nation and abandoned it.

    The just approach could be difficult, emotionally and practically. The woman crying her eyes out in Channery as we spoke, having learnt about her husband¡¯s death through second-hand sources, was one such example. I did not believe it right to keep that from her ¨C not for the sake of protecting a police operation which the Scuncath were already aware of.

    ¡°Now that I¡¯ve told you that, do you feel like offering me something in return?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize we were still doing that.¡±

    She looked like she was about to knock my block off for saying that. I held up my hands in surrender and laughed in that characteristically obnoxious way that I was known for at the academy.

    I chose something that she could both use and believe; ¡°That magic I use to break weapons? It¡¯s a hyper-concentrated magical field that I project into the essential components. A basic form of nihility magic. Another example is I could snap my fingers and cut an artery close to your heart. You could die on the spot and have no idea why.¡±

    ¡°Can you? Why don¡¯t you use that trick all the time?¡±

    I smiled, ¡°A bullet is easier.¡±

    Our discussion came to an end with the return of Genta from his toilet break. Veronica was close to completing her mental map of the surrounding area, so after another half-hour of studying the trenches we decided to return to town and prepare for our infiltration. Daylight was burning.

    <hr>

    Samantha was not having the relaxing vacation she was hoping for.

    After the fight, Samantha used her healing magic to fix up the criminals¡¯ injuries. Eugene brought the horse around and hauled them down to the constable¡¯s office to be processed. Arson was a serious offence ¨C they¡¯d be lucky to get away with a sentence lighter than twenty years respectively, and that was before they threatened to kill one of the family.

    She hoped that the drama would roll over quickly ¨C but someone in town spotted what Eugene was doing and got the whole damn story from him! Soon enough every townsperson in the vicinity was aware of the attack on the farm, and the threat now posed to them by the ¡®mysterious strangers from the mist.¡¯

    Samantha was stressed the hell out. Not only did she have to grapple with an existential question about her own morality and future decision-making, but now a group of murderous psychopaths were invading her hometown and trying to kill everyone.

    Claude and Max swung by once they heard the news. All three were standing in front of the charred remains of their once proud barn.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your Dad?¡± Claude inquired.

    Samantha slumped over and groaned, ¡°He¡¯s enjoying his new-found fame right now. Everyone thinks he¡¯s a hero for putting a stop to some of these maniacs that have shown up. They¡¯re parading him through the streets for it.¡±

    Even though she did half of the work!

    Max slicked back his hair, ¡°I can¡¯t believe we ended up surrounded by them when we were trying to avoid them. It would have been better to stay at home.¡±

    Claude shook his head, ¡°You didn¡¯t want to stay in the wreckage of your house, did you?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t. I¡¯m only talking about the risk factor here.¡±

    ¡°Did you see the protests happening in town, Sam? It looks like the news got out. All the townspeople are shouting and yelling outside of the jailhouse.¡±

    Samantha peered between her fingers, ¡°We should have said something. They almost burned down our home because I was too indecisive.¡±

    Claude shrugged, ¡°You could have hardly predicted that sort of problem. People are complicated, that¡¯s the issue. Sometimes they do stuff that defies all rational explanation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I agree with that. Maria is insistent that everyone has a deeply rooted motivation for what they do.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d trust Maria over me?¡±

    ¡°When it comes to wisdom, yes.¡±

    Max consoled the destitute Claude by placing a hand on his shoulder, ¡°Maria does have a strange level of ¡®wisdom¡¯ about a lot of matters. It¡¯s not right for a thirteen-year-old girl in my opinion.¡±

    Samantha agreed. There was something up with Maria ¨C a secret that she was keeping that was even more shocking than her identity as a hardened killer. Did Durandia grant her a boon of knowledge and experience? Maria must have cultivated it somehow.

    She turned her attention back to the ruins. Eugene and Ben had spent the morning picking through the surface level and removing the carcasses of some of the animals who weren¡¯t able to escape. Eugene¡¯s precious farming machine was in better shape than she first thought, but it did need repairs to be operable again.

    That was a small relief. Losing both the barn and the tractor would put the family in a dire financial situation. Those were big expenses that provided an outsized amount of value to their operation. She hefted away a large piece of burnt timber, revealing the corpse of a chicken that was unfortunate enough to be caught inside.

    ¡°Augh. Poor thing.¡±

    Samantha liked looking after the chickens, but they were the most vulnerable of all the animals on the farm. Hawks and foxes would try to pick them off, so they often kept them in the barn just to be safe. This one wasn¡¯t so lucky. Her Father said to never waste an animal. Samantha retrieved the body and carried it to the porch for later. They could use it for meat rather than throwing it into a hole and calling it a day.

    Claude and Max assisted Samantha in the clean-up process. Max wasn¡¯t used to hard labour of any sort, and he quickly became aware of how out of his depth he was when it came to physical activities. Joining one of the sports societies suddenly looked a lot more attractive.

    With hands beleaguered by splinters and arms about to fall from their sockets, Samantha decided that forcing her friends to help her was a bad impression to be making. She pulled them both away and back towards the house as the collapsed timber became too heavy for them to lift on their own.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask you two for help.¡±

    Max shrugged, ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to sit there and watch you do all the hard work.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the hard bit,¡± Samantha explained, ¡°We¡¯ll need some extra hands to move the big structural pieces, or Dad might decide to cut them into smaller ones first.¡±

    Max was getting a crash course in countryside living. He was a coddled nobleboy who wasn¡¯t even first in line to inherit the family¡¯s empire. It made him feel somewhat ashamed to now face the reality of what people without his immense wealth dealt with. Although it wasn¡¯t every day that a group of cultists burned down your barn and tried to kill your family, on that they shared some common ground.

    He was forced to hold his tongue when he noticed that the farm didn¡¯t have indoor plumbing so that he didn¡¯t look the fool. Of course, it didn¡¯t ¨C they were in the middle of nowhere, even by the standards of a small town like this.

    Max was starting to appreciate the effort Samantha put into her studies at the academy. It couldn¡¯t have been easy to find the time and resources to reach the level expected of new students. Her responsibilities on the farm and the remote location of the town all contributed to the challenge.

    The egalitarian reasoning behind the grant program was not always so easy to accept. There had been plentiful allegations of the places being given to those who would have been more than capable of earning a spot without going through the grant system. Samantha was proof that at least one person was using it as intended and benefitting as a result.

    Samantha took the chicken into the cellar. It had already been out in the open air for some time, so her Mother would have to make a judgement about what to do with it. When she surfaced, Max and Claude were already bickering about a new topic.

    ¡°It¡¯s obvious that the police are going to be here today. The constables must have sent word after we spoke with them. That¡¯s the whole reason they kept his death a secret in the first place.¡±

    Claude scoffed, ¡°They¡¯ve done a terrible job at handling it so far.¡±

    ¡°Your Father¡¯s in charge!¡±

    ¡°No, he isn¡¯t. There are people higher than him who give the big orders!¡±

    ¡°And what do you propose we do about it, exactly? Stop throwing yourself into danger over and over again! Don¡¯t you remember what happened at the theatre?¡±

    Claude¡¯s bravado came to an abrupt stop. His left hand touched the dull ache near the top of his leg, where the bullet shattered his pelvis and almost caused him to bleed to death. The aftereffects of that injury could still be felt.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m trying to say. I¡¯m not proposing anything.¡±

    ¡°Then why bring it up? There¡¯s nothing wrong with leaving all of this business to the professionals. Samantha¡¯s family had a personal encounter with them and they found it incredibly dangerous.¡±

    Samantha brought the debate to an end, ¡°My Mum said that she wants us to find out where Dad got to. He¡¯s been messing about in town for hours when he was meant to be back by now, and he took Ben with him. Let¡¯s walk down the road and see if we can¡¯t intercept him.¡±

    Max grumbled, ¡°Is that really safe?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve all run off now that the news came out.¡±

    And that was that. Claude and Max fell in line behind their fearless leader and joined her on the long dirt road that led through the outskirts of the town. There were few distinctive features out there, besides the large fields that weren¡¯t quite ready to be planted in yet. After multiple trips to the city, Samantha appreciated the simplicity and peace of the countryside even more.

    The walk remained uneventful until they crossed the bridge halfway to town. Over the hill arose the form of a horse-drawn cart. Samantha recognized it as their own, but as they drew closer and closer, she started to notice that something odd was happening.

    Eugene was there in the driver¡¯s seat with reins in hand ¨C but there was also a stranger wearing a long cloak. Eugene¡¯s face was indescribable. It was as if he wanted to say something but couldn¡¯t. Samantha connected the dots. The cloaked person was holding an object close to his ribs.

    It was too late to turn back now.

    Three other people leapt from the back of the cart, all of them armed with guns. The trio skidded to a halt on the road, but there was nowhere to run. They were quickly surrounded and pushed towards the cart where Eugene and Ben were also being held captive.

    ¡°Move it!¡±

    Claude and Max shared a weary glance. They didn¡¯t even go looking for trouble, yet it somehow found them anyway. The gunmen forced them to clamber into the back. They remained silent, not wanting to incur the wrath of the cultists.

    The man holding Eugene hostage laughed, ¡°What are the odds? First, we find these two trundling down the road, and now we have the other problem child as well.¡±

    ¡°You sure these are the ones?¡± the other asked, poking Max¡¯s knee with the barrel of his gun.

    ¡°Yeah. Frankie got the story from Charles when they were in the cells together. Said that this girl fried him good with some kinda¡¯ magic.¡±

    ¡°So why don¡¯t we just kill em¡¯ and dump them in a field like that copper?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re sniffing around for that kinda¡¯ thing! That¡¯s why Hoffman nearly killed the idiot himself when he got back to the fort. I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s worse, being caught by the police or making Hoffman angry. If we¡¯re going to kill ¡®em, it¡¯ll have to be somewhere private.¡±

    The cart continued past the farm unabated. They were making a long detour, away from the centre of town and towards Spurbank Hill. The five who now found themselves at the whims of the Scuncath continued to keep their peace. None wished to say words that might provoke their now infamous violence.

    The men continued to argue throughout the trip about how and when to kill their new hostages. There was little doubt left that they intended to retaliate against Eugene and Samantha for their part in the prior night¡¯s events.

    Samantha scowled. Her Dad couldn¡¯t help but make a big deal out of it and relish in the attention, and now they knew exactly who he was because of it. She crossed her fingers and steadied her breathing. There was still time, and she wasn¡¯t going to let her story end like this.

    Durandia was counting on her.

 Chapter 93

    The ride to the fort was long and uncomfortable, both physically and emotionally.

    Samantha, Max and Claude were put in close proximity to a group of aggressive and potentially violent captors. They were all heavily armed and more than happy to use their weapons should the need arise. Samantha found them despicable, not only for their crimes but also for their perceived enjoyment of terrorizing others.

    Eugene was the only one who could guess as to where they were going. He was already familiar with the dozen fortified locations that existed within an hour or two¡¯s journey from the middle of Channery. He¡¯d always believed that they¡¯d remained unused for the rest of his life, but he was not the kind of person who demanded their immediate removal.

    But this was exactly the sort of issue the removal crowd were worried about. They were the perfect place for ne¡¯er-do-wells to conceal a large-scale criminal operation. The trenches would make it a defensible location, while the fort building itself was large enough to house hundreds of people comfortably. For them, it was yet another example of how the countryside was being left behind by the national government.

    ¡°Not so pleased with himself now, is he?¡± the driver commented.

    Eugene did not rise in response to his taunts. He remained steadfast in his silence no matter what insults or mockery they threw his way. The fact that he refused to reply frustrated the captors, who wanted to knock him down a peg before killing him.

    They arrived at the front gate of the fort, which was perched atop an elevated dirt road that was designed to be treacherous for any attackers. A pair of towers overlooked the embankment, offering many opportunities for a group of riflemen to deter advances through the entrance.

    Beyond those doors lay one of the three separate courtyards contained within the walls. Originally intended as a staging point for attacks with artillery, it had instead been converted into a storage area for various non-perishable supplies. The Scuncath did not have cannons with which to attack any besieging forces.

    Hoffman was already waiting.

    He cut an intimidating figure to those who were not already acquainted with him, but his ire was aimed firmly at the foursome of Scuncath who were meant to be keeping watch on one of the outside walls, who were now arriving at Spurbank with a new set of hostages in tow.

    The cart was halted and the man steering the horse was forced to step down to ground level and endure an eye-to-eye verbal lashing from the man in charge.

    ¡°What is this? Who are these people?¡± he barked impatiently, ¡°You were meant to be keeping watch on the west side!¡±

    There was an awkward silence. The four men believed that they¡¯d be in and out before Hoffman could find out about their excursion, but one of the others had ratted them out. A small gaggle of onlookers were gathering across the way to see what was going on.

    ¡°Do you understand how important it is that we keep intruders out of this fort?¡± Hoffman continued, ¡°The police could be here any minute ¨C yet you are all risking your, and our, lives - by heading back into town!¡±

    It was not the welcome that Samantha and the others were expecting. Hoffman was marching back and forth, admonishing them with words and verbal lashings that made him sound more like a school teacher than a mad cultist.

    The man who drove the cart kept his voice restrained, ¡°We... we decided to go and grab them after what they did to George and Wilson.¡±

    ¡°Did you now? I don¡¯t seem to recall asking you to do that.¡±

    ¡°You always said that we have to stick together, boss. Are we going to leave them to rot in that prison? Or let people like this get away with fighting ¡®em?¡±

    Hoffman scowled, ¡°Solidarity is important ¨C but you should remember well that there are more of us here in the fort than down at the jailhouse. If your decision leads to us being attacked and captured, then you aren¡¯t acting with solidarity in mind at all. We have to make some tough choices, and one of those choices is to put our freedom and health on the table to save Walser from itself.¡±

    Samantha and the others were hastily bundled off of the cart and forced to line up in front of Hoffman.

    ¡°Since you all decided to bring us five extra mouths to feed, I¡¯m going to dock your rations and give it to them.¡±

    That kind of novel punishment was not unusual for Hoffman ¨C but it also made clear that he had no intentions of killing them and preserving those supplies to rectify their mistake. They would be forced to own it and take responsibility.

    ¡°Now, I take it that you are the fellow who escorted two of my men into the jailhouse yesterday.¡±

    Eugene finally broke his silence, ¡°I am.¡±

    ¡°And do you understand who we are and what we¡¯re here to do?¡±

    ¡°No. Not really.¡±

    Hoffman considered elaborating more ¨C but eventually settled on leaving it there. The driver was the one who leapt in against his wishes.

    ¡°You messed with my mate, and I¡¯m not going to let you off easy.¡±

    ¡°He burnt my barn and threatened to kill my son,¡± Eugene objected, ¡°Those two could have ended up dead if things went differently.¡±

    Hoffman tugged on the driver¡¯s shoulder and forced him back; ¡°I know. Unfortunately, it seems that some of my followers saw fit to extract their own kind of retribution for that incident. I did not order them to bring you here, which is problematic. I can¡¯t release you now that you¡¯re here. You¡¯ll have to wait in the jail until we¡¯re done.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to listen to him?¡± the kidnapper objected.

    Hoffman turned his ire back onto him, ¡°Is it not a natural response to defend one¡¯s family? What do you suppose you would have done in his position? There will be enough blood spilt here without the addition of these five. I want them locked in a cell and treated as guests until the time comes to leave, and if I hear anything more out of you, or find that they¡¯ve been harmed...¡±

    He left that threat hanging in the air. The cultists understood what he meant regardless. None wanted to cross Hoffman. When he was enraged, it was like a storm rolling through the fort and consuming everything in its path.

    ¡°Aye, sir. I¡¯ll show them to the cells.¡±

    Hoffman smiled, ¡°Very good. I want you back on watch once you¡¯re done. As I said, the police will be here to try and disrupt our ritual. I do not want any interference while it happens. Even a small change in environment could ruin it.¡±

    The kidnappers chose to return to their posts rather than risk incurring any more of Hoffman¡¯s anger through their rogue actions. A different pair of armed men walked them through the second line of defence and into the underground area of the fort. A trip down a short flight of stairs left them in the jailhouse.

    A cell was opened, and they were pushed inside. It was barely big enough for four to inhabit comfortably, but there were five of them. Samantha found herself squeezed up against the bars with Max to her right. The cell slammed shut, and the tension that had been building since they were taken unwound as the imminent threat of death was warded away.

    Ben spoke first; ¡°You¡¯ve really buggered us now, Dad.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame this on me!¡± he replied defensively.

    Samantha cut them both off before they could give her a headache, ¡°Can you two not have this argument now? This is bad enough without your idiotic bickering!¡±

    Eugene and Ben tensed up as she raised her voice. It was a rare display of impatience from Samantha, which meant she was very close to exploding and giving them what-for. The argument diffused, they tried to find a more comfortable arrangement within the cell by shuffling back and forth.

    Max stayed near the bars and peered into the cell across from theirs. Their neighbours weren¡¯t much interested in them. They remained downtrodden, with hanging heads and bleary eyes. The low light of the hallway was already starting to sap the energy from his body, and soon it would hurt his eyes too.

    ¡°This day just keeps getting worse.¡±

    Max was not expecting to hear a response from the cell next to theirs.

    ¡°Hey. Is that you, Max?¡±

    Samantha and Max turned their heads to the side so that they could hear the whispering more clearly. There was a lot of noise coming from upstairs with cultists cheering, drinking and squabbling at all hours of the day.

    Samantha spoke in a low tone of voice, ¡°Adrian? Is that you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. There are three of us in here. I¡¯m with Sir Walston-Carter and Escobarus.¡±

    Samantha frowned. Even snatching one of the three was a serious statement of intent, but the Scuncath had squirrelled away three of the wealthiest and most influential men in the country. How in the name of the Goddess had they gotten away with planning a heist so audacious?

    ¡°What are you doing here? Did they come back to grab you too?¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Max sighed, ¡°No ¨C we happened to get caught up in a spot of bother. They don¡¯t even know who I am.¡±

    ¡°Did the man with the scars say something to you?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Max replied, ¡°He got mad at them and told him to put us in here with you.¡±

    ¡°If they figure out who you are, he¡¯s going to pull you out of there and talk with you in private.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°He was going through every one of the hostages and trying to recruit them as spies, I think. He wants people in high society to feed him information and money. I don¡¯t know if anyone took the bait. It¡¯s that or be killed.¡±

    ¡°I can see why they¡¯d consider it ¨C but I imagine that trust is in short supply.¡±

    ¡°Someone may have taken the deal,¡± Adrian elaborated, ¡°But we can¡¯t see every cell from here, and we don¡¯t know who was kidnapped and brought here originally to compare it with.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you shout down the hall and find out?¡±

    ¡°The guards will come down and try to find out who did it. None of us are willing to risk making them angry.¡±

    Max could already feel an idea fermenting in his head. If they were trying to recruit people to join their cult, why not accept the offer and look around the fort for a way to let everyone out of the cells? It was risky ¨C but Claude and Samantha couldn¡¯t hog the spotlight forever. This was his chance to repay them for the danger they faced when helping him.

    Samantha was thinking similarly, ¡°What if Max agrees to join? Do you think they¡¯ll let him out?¡±

    ¡°Under watch, probably,¡± Adrian concluded, ¡°It¡¯s too risky. There¡¯s no guarantee that they¡¯ll let you look around, and there are way too many armed guards for us to sneak away without them spotting us. They have two men watching the stairs at all times. I can hear them talking to each other.¡±

    Max disagreed, ¡°It¡¯s better than sitting here and doing nothing. What¡¯s the worst that could happen if they refuse?¡±

    ¡°They could kill you.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re already threatening to kill us. That doesn¡¯t seem like much of an escalation from where we are right now!¡±

    ¡°We can wait here and hope that the police show up,¡± Adrian contested, ¡°I don¡¯t see how sticking your neck out is going to help matters any.¡±

    ¡°Well sorry for not trusting them to come and save us after what happened at the theatre,¡± Max griped.

    Damian cut in, ¡°I don¡¯t believe that this debate will deter him, Adrian. He¡¯s already made his mind up.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just saying that because you can¡¯t control Maria.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to. She¡¯s a very polite and rule-abiding girl.¡±

    Samantha almost choked on her own saliva hearing that coming from the mouth of Maria¡¯s Father. Either he was playing ignorant, or he really didn¡¯t know a single fact about his daughter.

    Adrian was not deterred, ¡°I¡¯m going to try it. I need to let them know that my Father is here without arousing their suspicion.¡±

    Samantha tried to get a better look down the hallway by squeezing her head between the bars, but it was no use.

    ¡°Shout out to him,¡± she suggested, ¡°The guards will hear, and they might report it to that Hoffman bloke.¡±

    Max took a deep breath and did as she instructed, ¡°Dad! Dad! Are you in here? Dad!¡± He continued this process for several minutes, but there was no response from his Father ¨C who he knew for a fact was supposed to be in one of the cells.

    ¡°He must be asleep,¡± Adrian stated.

    Having him respond wasn¡¯t important anyway. Adrian needed only to plant that seed of intrigue for Hoffman to catch onto. In time, he would also get to enjoy a one-on-one audience with the man behind the madness, and unlike the others he would ¡®willingly¡¯ agree to join his side.

    As for what came next, he had no earthly idea.

    <hr>

    Veronica already had a plan of attack prepared, and she was not going to delay matters any more than she had to. We were going into the fort the same day and getting the hostages, and the book, back from the Scuncath before they could unleash havoc unto Channery and Walser as a whole.

    One of the trenches was identified as the best route to enter the fort. It had the least eyes on it, and Veronica knew that one of the secret entrances was located at the end of it. It wasn¡¯t the most convenient place to move from when it came to reaching the prison area, but getting inside in the first place was the most important consideration.

    The Scuncath were numerous and fairly well-armed. What they lacked in training they made up for with almost suicidal zeal. They wouldn¡¯t hesitate to try and take us down with them in a fight, using whatever they could get their hands on.

    Escaping with all of the ¡®sacrifices¡¯ was going to be difficult. They needed them, but that didn¡¯t necessarily mean that they would avoid killing them if they tried to escape. There was also the issue of breaking through the locks. I couldn¡¯t use my nihility magic on each and every one without causing myself to pass out on the spot.

    Not ideal, given the circumstances.

    So that meant finding the person who was holding the keys. They could be anywhere, but they were likely to be somewhere in the vicinity of the cells. I just didn¡¯t know the facts on the ground. It demanded quick thinking and adaptability. I was good at those things ¨C but I¡¯d never willingly put myself into a situation where I was forced to rely on them. It was too dangerous.

    ¡°So, are we all on the same page?¡± Veronica asked.

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s safe to bring Cambry with us?¡±

    He adjusted his glasses and smiled, ¡°I¡¯m not short on bravery. It¡¯s the least I can do given the dire circumstances that may arise from their continued possession of the book. We¡¯re speaking of tens of thousands of deaths at a minimum.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t quite believe that the Horrcath was going to be that dangerous. The hound that pursued us was terrifying as it was vicious, but it was still bound by what I could call a reasonable tether to reality. It possessed no special abilities or powers beyond its unusual durability. Clearly, this violent greed amalgam was a different matter entirely. It could supposedly kill thousands in an area with a fairly sparse population.

    I nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll be responsible for rescuing the prisoners, then.¡±

    ¡°Yes. We¡¯ll regroup at the same trench and exfiltrate the area. Don¡¯t stick around if you don¡¯t have to though. You should focus on recovering as many of the prisoners as possible.¡±

    We were almost ready to go. I grabbed as many magazines as I could carry from my trunk before making a quick bathroom stop. I used the toilet, washed my hands and dried my face, before turning around and unlocking the door.

    Genta and Veronica were no longer in the room.

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding me.¡±

    I checked under the bed and inside the wardrobe. I even peered out into the corridor outside and the tavern downstairs. There was no sign of them. They¡¯d disappeared on me.

    I saw this coming. I was anticipating it for days, but I was not expecting them to dip while I was using the toilet of all things. They¡¯d packed their bags and disappeared in the handful of minutes it took for me to finish. If that was how she wanted to play it ¨C then I had no choice but to go it alone.

    She probably, stupidly, thought that I wouldn¡¯t follow them given the risks associated with it. What she didn¡¯t know was that Durandia decided to make me a protagonist of this ridiculous story. I hadn¡¯t death-flagged myself yet, and I wasn¡¯t about to start now. There was no greater power in this world than the person writing the script, so to speak.

    I did not trust Veronica to actually rescue them without me anyway. She was a government agent, not someone invested in acts of charity. Her primary concern was stopping the Scuncath from compromising Walser¡¯s security and stability. If a few blue-blooded nobles died in the process, then it was mission accomplished as far as she cared. But was that sense of duty enough to make her abandon my Father?

    She must have loved him. She wouldn¡¯t have gone underground, slept with him and evaded her own agency for a year if she didn¡¯t. She was dedicated to following through on her pregnancy and having me, at great personal risk at that. I couldn¡¯t trust her statements about keeping me safe, but the Damian part of the story had to be truthful to some extent.

    What were the odds of that whole story being a lie? I took a step back from my own narrative and reconsidered it from another perspective. We looked the same ¨C there was no debating that, but what if she wasn¡¯t really my Mother at all? She could have been my aunt or some other relation, or through simple chance, she wasn¡¯t connected with me in the first place.

    I was the one who aired the idea of us being mother and daughter to her. What was stopping her from taking that story and wrapping it around her shoulders as camouflage? Besides my Father¡¯s name, she never once shared any knowledge which would require a close association with him.

    It was a coin-flip of a problem. She was either using that as a cover, or she was trying to keep the details to a minimum. But she was oddly forthcoming with other topics too like the story about how she defied her handlers and hid away during her pregnancy, or her desire to protect me from them through her absence.

    That would be a tangled web to weave and manage. She was skilled, but was she capable of that level of emotional manipulation without showing an outward sign of dishonesty? It was a fool¡¯s errand to assume that everyone was eternally professional and incapable of making mistakes. People who should know better make stupid errors all the time.

    What a conundrum. In the end, I relegated that matter to the holding area of my mind and refocused on the task at hand. I could worry about the potential emotional manipulation later, time was running short for Damian and the rest. The police would still need some time to set up their rescue operation, time which the Scuncath would use to complete their ritual. Genta testified that the best window was already nigh.

    They could do it whenever they wanted.

    I stuffed as many magazines into my pockets as I could and left the trunk in the room for later. When I stepped out onto the street, it was evident that the police circus was in town and trying to reassure the local residents. Officers were patrolling every corner and keeping an eye out for troublemakers.

    Problem: I was an unaccompanied minor.

    Veronica must have waited until they were keeping watch to make her move. I ducked into the nearest alleyway and waited until the first group of officers passed me by. I jogged across the street and stuck close to the buildings, only to discover that they¡¯d established checkpoints at the major roads across town.

    Into the fields it was. This police business was seriously inhibiting me. The last thing I wanted was for them to stop me, or ask where my parents were, or Durandia forbid search my coat and find the platoon¡¯s worth of ammunition I was carrying. I slipped down into a ditch and kept my head low, moving past while they were busy inspecting a cart trying to reach the market.

    It was still light, but the sun would set in two hours and make life much harder for all involved. It took me thirty minutes to cover a distance that needed ten a few hours ago. Veronica was wily, I had to give her that. She timed her escape to perfection and hoped that said delay would deter me from following.

    What she didn¡¯t understand was how stubborn and petty I could be. I was not going to let her get away with pulling a cheap trick like that on me. My pride demanded that I respond in kind and get one over on her in return. I was going to get into the fort and rescue everyone without breaking a sweat.

    Once I was clear of the checkpoints, I moved back onto the road and made good time getting to Spurbank. I didn¡¯t know where the police were setting up the staging area for their assault ¨C but whatever they did it was going to get messy. The safest way to handle the situation would be to get the hostages away before the attack started.

    There was also the potential for an early siege if they heard too many gunshots coming from inside. It depended on the temperament of the officer in charge. Were they the sort to carefully plan and execute to preserve their safety or a more reckless sort who dove in at the merest hint that innocents were being harmed?

    Too many variables. I had to keep repeating it. There were too many variables. I was confident, but not certain. This was the very worst situation I was willing to subject myself to. Any more than this would be so wildly out of hand as to be an elaborate form of suicide.

    But total control was a privilege. I could never safely guess how people would react to what I was doing. They¡¯re complicated, contradictory, cowardly or brave ¨C and there¡¯s no way to determine who will be which from the outside. This was like those kinds of jobs, but I wasn¡¯t presented with any real alternate choices. I could leave my Father to die, or I could try and rescue him.

    I wasn¡¯t going to let him die. Having him handle all of the problematic business stuff was too convenient for me. I¡¯d seen the weight of bureaucracy come down on Adrian like a tonne of bricks. It was crushing. I did not want to be caught in the same position, forced to learn the detailed inner workings of a business empire decades in the making.

    No thanks.

    I took the long way around Spurbank to evade the sentries posted to the trenches and walls. The far most tip of the trench system was where I¡¯d begin my infiltration, and it was also the area with the lightest security. I spotted some of them on watch and considered how to get around them without raising the alarm. Veronica and Genta must have been inside already because there was no sign of them yet.

    I drew my gun and released the safety. It was do-or-die time.

 Chapter 94

    Samantha, Max and Claude weren¡¯t certain how long they waited for after he cried out for his Father. There were no clocks - and only small slits in the walls to allow fresh air into the cells from outside. They were already starting to feel the emotional toll that being kept in the dungeon levied on the other prisoners. They¡¯d been here for three days now.

    Their ears perked up when finally the sound of footsteps descended the spiral staircase at the far end and approached their cell. Two armed guards stopped in front of the bars.

    ¡°One of you shouted an hour ago. Who did it?¡±

    Max felt a brief surge of regret. His cries for his Father had the intended effect. Hoffman was calling for him, and the men standing in front of the cell were going to find out who was responsible for it. He was already resolved to follow through now, and he wasn¡¯t going to let someone else take the fall if they intended to punish him for it.

    ¡°It was me,¡± he admitted.

    One of the men pulled out a key and unlocked the gate, motioning for him to step out and follow them. Max shared what may have been his last look with Claude and Samantha before moving out of the cell and following them. They led him back up the stairs and onto the first floor of the fort, where a small office space had been commandeered by Hoffman.

    He was definitely the man in charge, given the level of deference that the other cultists were showing him. That itself was enough to afford him an ominous reputation. What kind of man could control a horde of monsters like this? When they walked through the door ¨C he was busy toying with a quill and shuffling through a pile of documents, a pair of reading glasses perched atop his nose.

    Not exactly the image that he was projecting in the courtyard.

    The guards left him standing by the door with no further instructions on what to do. Max waited patiently until Hoffman was finished picking through the pages. He peered up to greet him with a smile.

    ¡°Hello, young man. How should I address you?¡±

    ¡°Maxwell Abdah. Just call me Max.¡±

    He intentionally made sure to emphasize his name so that Hoffman knew he was related to the same Abdah who was locked up in the basement. Max walked to the chair and took a seat in front of the desk while Hoffman swept the papers aside into neat piles so that they did not obstruct his view.

    ¡°A young Abdah! Interesting. Where does your family hail from? I was always curious.¡±

    ¡°Furah, but Walser is the only nation my Father and I have ever called home.¡±

    He stroked his chin, ¡°Furah? I suppose that makes sense. It is the crossroads of the world after all. The perfect place for an enterprising family to make their fortune in trading. I visited once ¨C a town called Sumenia. It was only a brief stay. It was back in my naval days.¡±

    Max had never been to Sumenia. He¡¯d been to Furah twice in his life, and both were for family functions that occurred when he was too young to fully recall the context and events while he was there. As his Father always said, the only reason they went back was for ¡®funerals, succession fights and weddings,¡¯ in that specific order.

    ¡°Is my Father here?¡±

    ¡°He is. I wasn¡¯t anticipating more guests. What¡¯s a well-to-do young man like yourself doing in Channery?¡±

    Max took a deep breath and tried to unwind the tension in his arms and shoulders. He looked like a scarecrow posted onto the back of the chair. He kept his eyes focused on the objective of this meeting. He needed to convince Hoffman that his loyalty was wavering and that he was ripe for recruitment.

    ¡°We came to this town to get away from you, some good that did us.¡±

    Hoffman chortled, ¡°An unfortunate brush with fate. You would have been fine staying where you were. We never had any intention of taking you.¡±

    ¡°No. You were going to kill me and leave me with the rest of the victims.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t deny that our methods are violent,¡± Hoffman said dismissively, ¡°But a few lives are nothing in comparison to the change we seek to enact. We are speaking of a far grander mission than attacking the noble class or begging for money.¡±

    ¡°A change? What kind of change?¡±

    ¡°A change that will shake the very foundations of our society, Maxwell. It is more accurate to describe it as a return to the way things used to be, before the followers of Cath were chased from public life by the overzealous rulers of Walser. I¡¯d like to ask you a question independent of that, are you happy with the way things are now?¡±

    Max paused and considered his words extremely carefully. This was his chance to project a particular image to Hoffman and convince him that he was genuine about joining his cause. He wanted an influential and wealthy person to toy with, he needed only to give him a small push in the right direction.

    ¡°I count my blessings every day. I don¡¯t have to worry about going hungry or unhoused. I can do anything I want. I¡¯m the third in line to become the head of the family.¡±

    Hoffman inserted his own ideology into the blank spaces he left unsaid; ¡°But that isn¡¯t what makes man happy. Money, a roof over your head, those are not necessarily the things that fulfil us.¡±

    ¡°So, what does?¡± Max asked, fully tipping the discussion into Hoffman¡¯s preferred direction.

    ¡°What people want is purpose. They want to wake up in the morning and have a meaningful goal to strive for. It has to be a goal that they cannot attain simply through wealth ¨C and it has to benefit the greater whole. Motivations that are purely selfish will always fall by the wayside in time.¡±

    Max shrugged, ¡°And you believe that I¡¯m one of those people.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. It¡¯s only natural that you would feel disillusioned with how your life is. Third in line to the throne, left with choice that is far too overwhelming for a boy your age to process. When your Father pulls you aside and states so confidently that you can choose any path you like, does that reassure you? No. In many senses, choice can be constrictive.¡±

    Max understood what was happening here. Hoffman had identified a potential weakness in his emotional armour and ruthlessly locked onto it. From there, he could crowbar it open and try to convince him that there was some greater purpose to be found with his flock.

    It was smart and terrifying in equal measure. Hoffman was not a blind zealot. He was a man who was skilled in manipulation and rhetoric. Making grand speeches was easy, anyone could do it with enough practice. This was the type of cold-blooded attitude that could only be forged under specific circumstances.

    It reminded him of Maria.

    This was what Max was hoping for when he called out for his Father. He couldn¡¯t appear too eager to agree with his perspective. The bait would need to be laid first, and only then would Hoffman believe that his words were having the intended effect.

    ¡°And what leads you to believe that I cannot find a path of my own? I know that there are fields and subjects that I enjoy more than others. Patience is a virtue. I will find the correct burden one day, as is the inevitability of living.¡±

    ¡°That is an optimistic view of the matter.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t exactly given me many reasons to believe that what you¡¯re offering is worth hearing out. All I¡¯ve seen from you are the lives you¡¯ve taken to get here, and nothing else.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t tell you what we¡¯re trying to do?¡±

    ¡°Nobody was interested in talking with me.¡±

    Hoffman steepled his hands together and considered what to do with the young man. Having a member of the Abdah family in his back pocket could be useful, and there was little risk of him interfering with their operation before then. He was confident that there was no potential for them to break out, nor was there time for that information to be useful to the authorities that were seeking them.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you, then. It¡¯s better to hear it from the horse¡¯s mouth.¡±

    Max was forced to stand and follow along as the cult leader led him deeper into the compound, through winding corridors, up a set of stairs, and then back down again. Their destination was a particular location within the Spurbank Fortress that was known to few, concealed behind an inconspicuous pair of doors.

    The interior was not so restrained.

    This was the single largest space within the fort¡¯s grounds, and it was dedicated entirely to a long, mostly empty chamber. A set of stained-glass windows, otherwise concealed by the surrounding buildings, allowed natural light to seep into the room and illuminate the dais that stood at one end. Atop that was a wooden throne with red cushions.

    ¡°This is... a throne room,¡± Max murmured.

    ¡°Correct,¡± Hoffman held his arms out wide, ¡°This is a throne room. Intended for the then King Walser to utilise in an emergency. Spurbank is special. It¡¯s one of the chosen few locations that were prepared for his usage, should the capital city fall to the enemy.¡±

    ¡°You knew about this?¡±

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°It was something of an open secret to us military men. They never used it for that intended purpose, but it serves our needs just fine. An appropriate space with which to summon the weight that will balance the scales of this world.¡±

    Max¡¯s eye was next drawn to the enormous circle that had been carved into the formerly pristine floor. Hammers and chisels lay discarded in the corner, having been used to carefully craft a series of channels that would allow blood to flow from corner to corner. There were several smaller circles around the edge that were marked so that the sacrifices could be killed there and drained of their essence.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he asked, ¡°What is this circle for?¡±

    Hoffman was waiting for that question. It was time for the grand reveal.

    ¡°Max, are you unaware of the ¡®irrational?¡¯ The unseen, the untouched, yet the still felt. It stands in opposition to the physical world we inhabit. It is formed from our thoughts, desires and deepest feelings. We cannot perceive it, but we can interact with it.¡±

    He approached the wooden altar before the throne and held up a red-bound tome that was being kept on it, entitled the ¡®Book of Cambry.¡¯

    ¡°Governments fear what may occur should the public be made aware of it. It is a power that cannot be stemmed by money, law or military force. It transcends the structures they have constructed for their own benefit and lays bare a worrying fact ¨C that they are not the real masters of this world.¡±

    ¡°Did the book tell you that?¡±

    ¡°Nay. The Scuncath have always been aware of this. It is the foundational creed of which we all concur. There are a brave few scholars who defy the government¡¯s wishes and study this ¡®other side¡¯ regardless. The Cambry family has done so for three generations, and this tome is their collective masterwork. There is no greater collection of information about the ¡®irrational¡¯ than this.¡±

    Max was putting together the pieces using what he¡¯d learned in magic class. Miss Jennings had mentioned irrational magic before. Most of the spells they learned were triggered by utilising the natural laws of the world to their advantage, moving energy and manipulating elements to conjure the desired effect. That was rational. It subscribed to known reactions.

    Irrational magic was the opposite. It was a theory more than a practice. To use magic irrationally and in objection to those laws required an entirely different perspective on the world than what one could normally internalize. Some believed it to be impossible, beyond humans entirely, and those who tried harmed or killed themselves through magical fatigue.

    ¡°There are intelligent creatures who live on the other side, Max. They live in a slurry of our chaotic emotions, they feed using it. They have no physical forms lest we offer them one. They see this reality differently, though we are as much a mystery to them as they are to us.¡±

    And because they lived in that ¡®irrational¡¯ world ¨C one fuelled by emotion rather than laws, they could potentially use irrational magic. Max tried to stop himself from looking too shocked by the revelation he was enjoying. Hoffman wasn¡¯t trained in magic. He didn¡¯t know this or even consider it.

    ¡°We intend to summon one of them here and to ask them to deliver unto us the struggle that we so desperately need. We must take on the responsibility of the Dark Goddess and present a difficult trial for our world. We will allow the virtuous and the strong to prove their worth, so that future generations may live on in safety.¡±

    He was going to plough ahead no matter what the potential consequence. Max¡¯s imagination ran wild with scenarios. What was irrationality really capable of? Could it control time, or drive a person to madness, or wreak untold destruction at the snap of a finger? Could this creature from the other side, born from emotion, become tired and run out of energy like a human could?

    An unstoppable monster. A beast given purpose by a group of lunatics. This was no simple matter of striking out against the nobility. They intended to plunge Walser and the surrounding nations into chaos by using that power. Such a perverse purpose was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.

    ¡°This plan of yours. Why? Why do you need to do this? Wouldn¡¯t summoning this creature be even more destructive than sitting back and waiting to see what happens?¡±

    Hoffman placed the book back down and nodded, ¡°I understand your worries, Max ¨C but let me ask you a question in return. Do you think that humans are best placed to decide when enough is enough? When the civil war killed thousands and thousands, did we step back and reckon with that loss? Call for an end to the bloodshed?¡±

    Max shook his head. He didn¡¯t have an answer that would satisfy him.

    ¡°No. They lived in their ignorance and issued more marching orders, to kill more, to shed more blood, to extract an emotional toll from us that still has not been paid off. Using this circle ¨C we can summon the Horrcath and slowly tighten the noose until it leaves this reality and returns home. There is no question and no ignorance that can allow it to continue with its slaughter. It is like a great industrial machine, working until we tell it to stop.¡±

    ¡°But how can you be so sure that you¡¯re not the same?¡± Max asked.

    Hoffman grimaced, ¡°You can¡¯t. Nobody can ever truly be certain of that. I do not ask of others for their blind faith in my good nature. I only understand what I wish to do. To worry about how others may see me is folly. I am not in the business of drowning myself in what-ifs. This circle will sever the contract after two months, and the Horrcath cannot break from that limit.¡±

    Max could only shake his head. What else was there to say when faced with such an insane plan? He was meddling in matters he did not understand solely to cause death and destruction which he foolishly believed he could control. Max knew one thing for certain ¨C the first victims would be Hoffman and the rest of his flock.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy to open our arms and welcome you to the cause, Max. Should it come to this, I would lend you my support in securing your place at the head of the family. There will be a vacancy, after all.¡±

    The pained expression on Max¡¯s face was not from a genuine sense of indecision about the offer, but rather a deeply felt sense of shame about the act he was being forced to put on. Every word Hoffman spoke only inflamed the outrage he felt, yet he was not permitted to take him to task for them. It would ruin his chances of getting out of the cells for good.

    He¡¯d already gathered a lot of helpful information about what they intended to do. That book was the key to all of this. He had to find a way to get it out of the throne room and to somewhere that was concealed from the Scuncath. It wasn¡¯t lost on him that Hoffman was wearing a gun holster beneath his coat. Now wasn¡¯t the right time.

    ¡°Do I even have to say that I remain mostly unconvinced? You seem to believe that this world isn¡¯t acceptable as it is, even though everyone in Walser is enjoying the peace. I thought that a military man such as yourself could appreciate that.¡±

    Hoffman was not upset by the observation, ¡°I don¡¯t like conflict - but conflict is a natural part of life. It flows through everything we do, from the actions we take to the cruel words we speak. I intend to cause a controlled release of this despair before the tide grows too great and drowns us all.¡±

    Max timed his response to perfection, ¡°I¡¯m stubborn, but not that stubborn. If I see evidence of what you say with my own two eyes, then there¡¯ll be nothing left to debate, will there?¡±

    Hoffman was so eager to pull the youngest Abdah to his side that he leapt at the opportunity. That killer instinct of his was a great strength when it came to manipulating others, but it could also serve as an equal source of weakness. He was so assured of his success that he never considered that he was being taken for a fool.

    When the prize was right in front of him, why would he have any reason to delay?

    ¡°I want you to see the humanity in these people, Maxwell. Their kindness and their passion ¨C which burn even brighter than mine. If you¡¯ll allow me to invite you to one of the rooms. I¡¯ll assign another member to watch you and make introductions.¡±

    A handler. Hoffman wasn¡¯t going to give him free rein of the fort yet. It was still progress. Perhaps he could find something else of note during that time that could help the others escape.

    Max maintained the ambiguity so as to not close off his chance, ¡°I don¡¯t want to be in those cells any longer. I¡¯ll see whether they measure up to what you claim.¡±

    Hoffman smiled revealing his crooked teeth. That was it, he¡¯d secured his victory against Max in the rhetorical war of words. The opportunity cost of releasing him from the jail was low, but the potential returns if he became the head of the Abdah family in Walser were huge. Max could single-handedly fund his entire operation for the rest of time if only he could sway him onto the Scuncath¡¯s side.

    Which was exactly what Max was hoping for him to think. It was perfectly understandable for an arrogant man like Hoffman to believe that he held all of the cards. His opponent was a thirteen-year-old boy who hadn¡¯t been through a quarter of the things that he had.

    Hoffman placed a hand on his shoulder and led him away from the chamber just as a group of stonemasons entered to continue their work on the summoning circle. A short trip through another building brought them to one of the living quarters. Hoffman was looking for someone to hand Max off to, and it had to be someone he could trust to follow his orders down to the letter. The incident with the wall watch was still fresh in his mind.

    ¡°Feldstein, are you here?¡±

    A head popped out from one of the bunk beds, ¡°You called?¡±

    Hoffman waved the new face over and introduced him to Max, ¡°This is Maxwell ¨C a new associate of ours. I want you to keep a close eye on him during his probation period.¡±

    Feldstein frowned, ¡°A new associate. Where did you find him?¡±

    ¡°Some of the idiots on the wall abandoned their post and kidnapped some townsfolk while I wasn¡¯t looking. This lad here is the third son of Abdah. He seems curious about the creed.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s an Abdah? What are the chances of that? The Dark Goddess must really be smiling down at us right now.¡±

    He spoke those words with a friendly sincerity that was a hard contrast to their actual practices.

    ¡°I have to watch the last stages of the process and make sure that everything is perfect before the summoning ceremony. Can I trust you to take care of it?¡±

    ¡°No problem. I¡¯ll give him the best Scuncath welcome I can.¡±

    That was all Hoffman needed to hear. He turned without saying goodbye and marched away, leaving Max with a new face to guide him through the complicated and messy world of the Scuncath cult.

    ¡°I say that, but I don¡¯t know where to start! You must have a lot of questions about us and what we¡¯re trying to do.¡±

    Max crossed his arms, ¡°Naturally. Hoffman said a lot about finding meaning in my life, but I¡¯m really the most curious about him. It must take a special sort of person to organize so many people under his banner.¡±

    Max resisted the urge to talk about their bloodthirsty, selfish manner when it came to operating without him holding their leashes. This softer language was a concession made for the sake of winning them over and maintaining his newly acquired privileges.

    ¡°You¡¯re right about that. Hoffman cuts an intimidating figure, but he wouldn¡¯t be in charge if he did nothing but bark orders. Scuncath have been scattered to the four corners of this nation for a long time now, and he¡¯s convinced us all that he¡¯s going to bring us back in a big way.¡±

    ¡°Bring you back?¡±

    ¡°Yep. The Cath weren¡¯t always a bunch of people worshipping in their basements. Back in the day, they were equal partners with worshippers of the light. The government didn¡¯t like that ¨C so they dissolved the church and pushed us underground with each passing generation. They¡¯d fill the kid¡¯s heads with a bunch of scare stories about the carnage the Dark Goddess unleashed, even if that went against the texts they themselves believed in.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s difficult to see how Hoffman and fix that.¡±

    ¡°He never said it¡¯d be easy. That¡¯s what I like about him. He doesn¡¯t sell us a load of rubbish and promise the world. We have to reach out and make that change ourselves, instead of relying on other people to do it for us.¡±

    Max was struck with the kind of deception that Hoffman used on Feldstein. This situation couldn¡¯t be interpreted as anything but a suicide mission. They were holding up inside of a fortress and taking the fight to the police, and potentially summoning a monster that could kill them all in the blink of an eye. These were not actions one would take in the interest of preserving a religious movement.

    Hoffman filled his head with promises. They weren¡¯t big promises or wild exaggerations, and he was frank about their odds of success, but they were promises nonetheless. Feldstein was blinded by his persona.

    ¡°But bringing back the church is the second priority right now,¡± he rationalized, ¡°Hoffman thinks that there¡¯s a big calamity coming to Walser if we don¡¯t do something to stop it. That¡¯s why we¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh, that¡¯s what he told me too.¡±

    This was dangerous. He was in the hornet¡¯s nest and he didn¡¯t know how any of them would react to his presence. They¡¯d tell themselves whatever it took to keep the charade going for as long as possible. The whole scheme stunk to high heaven but Feldstein was blind to it.

    ¡°Ah. You don¡¯t want to hear me ramble on about greater purpose and all that. I think we¡¯d be better off walking around the fort and seeing what everyone is up to, I can show you where the food is served too.¡±

    Max meekly followed his guide out of the barracks.

    ¡®Goddess help me.¡¯

 Chapter 95

    The person in charge was no slouch when it came to exterior security. A two-bit cult leader would normally barricade themselves inside of a ¡®secure¡¯ location with no escape routes or perimeter defences to speak of, but the Scuncath were more organized than that. Men armed with rifles were posted on the walls, and lookouts surrounded the fort by residing in the trenches.

    If Veronica could slip inside with Genta in tow then it was more than doable for me too. No offence to the gentleman ¨C but he seemed rather out of his depth when it came to physical activities and had a clumsy manner. So much for keeping ill-suited people away from dangerous situations.

    The trench we¡¯d selected was to the North of the fort, which was not the direction from which a potential attack would be launched. While I was moving towards our infiltration point I kept a close eye out for the police¡¯s staging area. They were already in the town, so they had to be hiding somewhere nearby and keeping a close eye on what the Scuncath were doing.

    I did see a few tell-tale signs of their presence, like fresh cart tracks and footprints on the road, but I didn¡¯t find the staging area. It was just as well too ¨C I didn¡¯t want them to apprehend me and stop me from getting to the fort. It was likely that they¡¯d also approach from the North since it was the angle where the least guns were being pointed.

    I hung under the shade of a nearby tree and concealed myself behind some bushes to observe the patrol pattern on the outside edge of the trench system. They only needed to alert the main building if they saw a big attack coming over the horizon. No amount of discipline from the top down was going to change the nature of these volunteers. If it was anything less than what they could notice over a game of cards or while napping the day away, they weren¡¯t interested.

    Amateur stuff ¨C but I was not going to let my guard down because one or two of them were enjoying some leisure time in the trenches. It was a dry day so the ground was firm and did not run the risk of giving them trench foot. I imagined that the post would be a lot more miserable once the weather turned.

    While the point man¡¯s back was turned, I found my entry point and dropped down into it. I kept my head low and started to creep through. There were many artefacts left in the trenches by their current occupants. Discarded pieces of food were the main feature to enjoy, but there were also pieces of torn clothing and leftover weapons.

    A few of the guards were gathered around a small wood fire in one of the dead ends. I caught the tail end of their conversation while creeping past.

    ¡°You should have seen the look on his face when he found out that Hoffman was waiting for him.¡±

    ¡°What did he do, exactly?¡±

    ¡°The idiot went out and grabbed a group of locals so that he could execute ¡®em. Hoffman nearly blew his cap when he found out about it because they were meant to be keeping watch on one of the walls.¡±

    ¡°Seriously? They¡¯re going to get us all bloody killed with rubbish like that.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were happy to go gently into the Dark Goddess¡¯ embrace?¡± the other man joked.

    ¡°Aye, but I¡¯d rather not meet her because George and his gaggle of fools are too busy messing around to watch out for the police.¡±

    ¡°George got himself arrested. They tried to get back at the people who caught him without his say-so.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what they were trying to do. They should start listening to Hoffman.¡±

    It sounded like this ¡®Hoffman¡¯ character was the one in charge, then. It was impressive that he¡¯d gathered so many disparate strands of their movement together like this ¨C but even he showed his limits through incidents like the one they described. There was a strong individualist streak given that this was not a formal organization, and some of them would take advantage to do what they pleased.

    I didn¡¯t have time to stick around and listen to them talk. I continued on my way until I was overshadowed by the towering outer walls of the fort itself. There was a stone gateway that led into the first courtyard out back, but that also came complete with a cellar that gave direct access to and from the trench line, with the idea being that the defenders could trigger a retreat should things go sour. There was a single door at the end of the tunnel.

    The door was not locked for convenience¡¯s sake ¨C or on second thought, Veronica might have jostled it open before I arrived. Finding her was going to be difficult in such a large complex. It would be easier to focus on completing my objective first and worry about her later.

    I had strong words for her, but they could stew a little while longer. I stepped through into the gatehouse and shivered as the cold became apparent. These stone walls were not ideal for insulating the rooms inside, and the black stone floors were even worse for it. There was nowhere for warmth to linger here.

    I drew my handgun and walked to the steep set of wooden stairs that pushed through the floor of the ground level above. I stayed there for a moment and pricked my ears up for anyone watching the hatch. When I was happy that no one was going to blow me away the moment I peered through, I started to climb. I slowly pushed the hatch aside and scanned the room for potential threats.

    There was nobody here, just various crates that contained the supplies they needed to live in the fort. Food, clothes, fuel, and some ammunition ¨C none of which was the right calibre for my weapon. The firearms were notable for their absence, they were being kept somewhere more secure. I wouldn¡¯t trust these lunatics with guns either. Hoffman wanted to keep a firm control of who got them and how they were allowed to use them.

    There was one more tool that I found in the storeroom. Someone had left a balaclava on one of the crates and left it there. It wasn¡¯t the nicest garment in the world, but it had a practical application in hiding their identities and keeping their facial features warm over cold nights. I decided to take it for myself. I did not want more retaliatory attacks against our estate if they got a read on who I was, especially after I was lucky enough to have all of the Scuncath on the train die during the fight.

    I slipped it on over my head, but my shoulder-length black hair ended up sticking out of the back regardless. It was good enough for the time being. I¡¯d considered finding a more practical mask after the Rentree debacle but didn¡¯t have the time to do it. Those festival masks that Caius brought along were too identifiable.

    I felt that I¡¯d come to regret this decision later because I could already feel the stitching irritating my skin.

    ¡°Hostages.¡±

    I repeated my objective and focused on what needed to be done. I could theoretically lockpick the cells or melt them using my magic, but that would tire me out before the fighting really started. It would be easier to preserve my strength and find the keys. These forts were not designed with prisoner security in mind, the cells were simply an afterthought and they all used the same locks.

    I could also force them open using my lockpick ¨C but that would make me look the fool if they were resistant to attacks like those. If they had the faintest idea of what they were doing, they¡¯d have brought proper, secure locks with them instead of relying on the rusted scrap left behind by the army. The person in charge was no moron. I wasn¡¯t going to take that chance.

    Featureless stone corridors and rooms stuffed with crates were the full extent of what was on offer in terms of visual navigation. Remembering all of this would demand a well-trained memory, which I was thankfully in possession of.

    It was easy for people trained on media depictions of ¡®stealth¡¯ to assume it meant crouching down and staying out of sight. The truth was much different. In my past life as an assassin, I regularly entered places I shouldn¡¯t have just by looking confident in myself.

    The fort was cramped, with long sightlines and lots of blind corners. It was a recipe for doing everything right but still being seen. I could minimize the odds of meeting someone else, but if that did happen I was not going to panic and dive for the nearest room to conceal my presence. Confidence was the secret. I had a mask, a gun, and mud-covered shoes. I fit right in.

    Keep your head high and your eyes straight. It was perhaps an inevitability that I¡¯d run into someone in these corridors. The problem was figuring out where to start. The cells were going to be downstairs where the conditions were the worst, but they could be using any of the rooms for sleeping quarters.

    I was forced to peer into each door I came across to try and find what I was looking for. Endless empty spaces met my curiosity, and if they weren¡¯t empty they were usually just filled with more supply crates or other discarded objects.

    The first break in the pattern came after ten minutes of searching. I opened the door to one of the rooms and was almost jump-scared by the presence of a dead body against the left-side wall. On closer inspection, the man had been stabbed in the neck and left to bleed out. It looked like Veronica¡¯s handiwork ¨C but why was she starting to pick people off before finding the prize?

    There was no time to worry about it. She wasn¡¯t leaving a convenient trail of bodies for me to follow regardless, and finding her was the only practical use for the knowledge. I checked his pockets for the cell keys but came up empty. No luck there. Was it asking too much to expect some divine assistance? Surely Durandia could drop me a hint as to where the damn keys were.

    They must have been in someone¡¯s possession. That posed the question of whether I could approach them without being sniffed out as an infiltrator. I left the room and closed the door so that none of the other cultists would spot the body. I took a left and headed up the stairs onto the first floor of the main building. I could see a lot of them mulling around in the courtyard outside, drinking, talking, and warming themselves through open fires.

    Thoughts of concealment were taking a backseat to keep everyone frostbite-free. They knew the police were coming, so what was the point in trying to stay hidden now? I maintained my low profile even as I approached the highly trafficked areas of the fort.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The problem became evident once one of the cultists rounded the corner in front of me, too quickly for any evasive action. I kept my head straight and walked straight past him without a word.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    I paused but kept my cool and turned back to face him. I anticipated a lot of different questions and had answers prepared, but he didn¡¯t ask any of those questions. He expressed a shocking lack of curiosity about the very short woman walking around in a pilfered balaclava.

    He pointed to my right hand, ¡°Where did you get that pistol? Last time I checked ¨C Hoffman was only giving out old rifles and shotguns.¡±

    That knocked me for a loop. I acted fast and pulled aside my coat, revealing the leather holster which I was using. I¡¯d switched positions because the leg strap was too difficult to reach in a pinch. He got the message and filled in the gaps for himself.

    ¡°Oh, you brought it with you. I see.¡±

    I waved in acknowledgement and carried on my merry way.

    That was odd even by my standards. I estimated that there were around one hundred fifty people living here, give or take a few dozen. I didn¡¯t have a grasp on how long they¡¯d been running as a pack together. It was reasonable to assume that the people who were in it for the long run were already well familiar with all of the names and faces.

    I reconsidered what little I knew about the initial attack. It was a series of unified efforts all executed individually. WISA was not capable of putting a pre-emptive stop to it and seemingly had Scuncath agents within its ranks. Organising a large number of people with weapons, directions and purpose would surely attract the wrong type of attention normally. They relied on bureaucratic delay to evade their reach.

    A diffused network of Scuncath extremists ¨C all acting under their own discretion after being provided with the tools needed. Each cell would have an assigned leader to give the orders and pass the information through the chain, but they would otherwise keep everything on a need-to-know basis.

    WISA was not ready to deal with this kind of modern threat. Armies and nations were slow, lumbering things that could be seen from a mile away with their telegraphed actions. A normal extremist cell was poorly trained and liable to exposing themselves through poor information control and a lack of decisiveness.

    They were expecting to find the same Scuncath they always dealt with. Scattered, violent criminals who had no binding allegiances besides that of their devotion to the Dark Goddess. They were more likely to find the Scuncath killing each other over disagreements in creed than an outside third party. The boss who was running this show changed that and they were caught flat-footed.

    Military, most likely; highly motivated, manipulative and professional.

    Keeping these ducks in a row was frankly impossible but they were giving it a good try. The Dark Goddess provided a convenient proxy by which to infuse their every direction with strong meaning. That was how cults worked. A figurehead needed to gladly exploit their desires and zealotry to keep a hold on power.

    Genta was sure that he knew what they were trying to do ¨C but the big question to me was why. What was the point in summoning a dangerous Horrcath from the other side, was it just to kill more people and potentially revive the Dark Goddess? That didn¡¯t feel right to me. That wasn¡¯t a goal that would earn admiration on the scale required to organize the Scuncath. It had to be immediate with ¡®real¡¯ consequences if they failed.

    It seemed that some of the cultists were more familiar with the group than others. That served me just fine ¨C but it did make me ponder about what Veronica was doing at that moment. She did not strike me as the subtle type, even if a disguise would have made her life easier.

    It was even more important if she was towing Genta behind her the entire time. Genta was a recognizable face. They went searching for him specifically once before, and his neurotic stance and rounded glasses were memorable. It was a poor choice in my opinion, and I made that opinion clear to her before she ghosted me.

    The best outcome would be to prevent them from summoning the Horrcath full stop. That could be done in any number of ways, most of which did not demand his particular brand of expertise in the subject. If it got to the point where the Horrcath was present and causing unfathomable levels of damage, it was a little too late to be relying on Genta to help dig you out of the hole.

    I reached the sleeping quarters and started sticking my head through the open doors to try and spot the key to the cells. Each room consisted mostly of stacked beds made from wood. If they were lucky there was also a cabinet or create nearby to provide storage space for their personal belongings. It was safe to assume that a lot of the Scuncath were impoverished and couldn¡¯t carry much with them.

    These rooms were intended to be used like this but that didn¡¯t mean they were comfortable. I could feel a draft coming through even though they didn¡¯t have any windows to try and trap the heat inside. The messy residents also added to the sense of squalor, leaving their trash wherever it could lay and not cleaning up their messes.

    The beds were really rammed into these rooms like sardines in a can. There was barely enough space to manoeuvre between them. It must have been chaos whenever they returned to their bunks to sleep for the night. There were a few cultists doing just that, scoring a midday sleep before they were put onto the evening shift watching the walls and manning the trenches. None of them were aware enough to make note of me.

    It was in the fourth sleeping battery that I found the last person I expected to see.

    Sitting on a chair by the door was Max. I immediately froze where I stood and stared at him. He stared back. There I was ¨C holding a gun by my waist, a mask over my face and my hand caught in the cookie jar.

    ¡°Maria?¡±

    And of course, he saw right through the mask as if it wasn¡¯t there. I should have tucked my hair into my coat before galivanting through the fort like an idiot. There was only one girl he knew with a brow this stern and a body this short. There was no getting around it. He¡¯d rumbled me.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing here?¡± I whispered.

    ¡°I could ask you the same thing!¡±

    His eyes darted down to the gun in my hand and the points connected.

    ¡°Your Father is here. Did you come all this way just to try and break him out? Where did you get that gun?¡±

    I had my own questions. Did the cultists put him in the timeout corner? He was sitting in the dim light of the room with a glum expression before I walked in. There was a surge of urgency in his voice as he stood up and grabbed my shoulder.

    ¡°Actually, never mind. You can¡¯t stay here for long. They¡¯ve stuck me with some lad who¡¯s keeping an eye on me. He¡¯s wandered off to find food.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re not in the jail?¡±

    He shook his head, ¡°Adrian mentioned something about the leader, Hoffman, recruiting people from the hostages. I lured the guards down by calling out for my Dad, and I pretended to join his side. He¡¯s real eager to get some noble money flowing into this operation of his.¡±

    ¡°Do you know where the keys are?¡±

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Did he show you anything important?¡±

    Max was hesitant to toss me headlong into danger by mentioning it, but he did have the information I was looking for.

    ¡°He took me to the throne room that they have in here. If you go downstairs, walk straight across to the next building, go back up the stairs and take a right, you should find some double doors. They have some kind of book hidden in there that they need for their plan.¡±

    He didn¡¯t know where the keys were ¨C but he had seen the book. This Hoffman fellow was awfully trusting to show Max after meeting him for the first time, or rather, his arrogance blinded him to the threat that Max may have posed at the time. He was instilling him with that grand purpose, and to do that he had to show some of the cards in his hand.

    ¡°This is way too dangerous. Where did you even come from?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t answer his questions without compromising myself. Having the gun in my hand was bad enough, if he suspected that I was the one responsible for what happened at the theatre and party, then everything would start to fall apart.

    ¡°Max. You need to stay here and make sure your handler doesn¡¯t raise the alarm. I¡¯m going to find the keys and let everyone out of the cells. I know where to take them once they¡¯re out.¡±

    ¡°Wait a second! Do you seriously expect me to sit here and let you run off to do whatever it is you want to do?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Max was stumped by my blunt response. That momentary pause was enough time for him to recognize that he was being hypocritical by even saying it. He was also risking his safety to try and get them out of the cells, so why was it so upsetting when I did the same?

    I gently pushed him back down onto the chair, ¡°You needn¡¯t worry about me.¡±

    ¡°Kinda¡¯ hard not to, given the circumstances.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already walked past some of them and they haven¡¯t noticed anything amiss yet. It¡¯s safer for me to look for the keys. When I get them, I¡¯ll come find you and we can escape this damnable place with the rest.¡±

    He really wanted to keep me out of this, I could tell from the way he wavered between grabbing my arm and sitting there silently. His body fell limp as he threw his head back and groaned in frustration.

    ¡°This is insane. It¡¯s totally insane. How are you going to get everyone out of those cells and away from the fort? They have guards everywhere.¡±

    ¡°The back entrance doesn¡¯t have as many portholes, and it¡¯s easy enough to deal with the men hiding in the trenches. There¡¯s no time to sit here and wait for the police. They¡¯re already in the ideal window to launch this heinous scheme of theirs. They could kill my Father and the others at a moment¡¯s notice.¡±

    There was no more time to stand here and answer his questions. I turned away and left to search the final few chambers. Max remained seated and did not shout out to me for fear of awakening the sleeping cultists in the barracks with him.

    I knew where the book was ¨C and presumably where they were planning on summoning the Horrcath too. I was going to keep trying my current plan, but I¡¯d need to shift gears and get to the throne room should circumstances prove disadvantageous. I could cut off the problem at the source if my initial attempts to empty the cells failed.

    But that wasn¡¯t a problem. The keys were right in front of me, hanging from the back of a cultist¡¯s belt loop. It was the only set of keys I¡¯d seen, so I concluded that at least one of them was the key I was looking for. As it turned out, we were close to the dungeon in question. There were two guards standing opposite the stairwell that led down to the jail.

    It was the tightest bit of internal security I¡¯d met since arriving at the fort. The cultists felt confident that the walls and trenches were enough to keep small interventions at bay. Their priority was making sure the sacrifices were ready for the big show. Now, dealing with two armed guards without shooting ¨C that was a tough ask.

    I did not want to bring the entire fort down on my head just to snag the keys, and I couldn¡¯t walk down the stairs and try my luck lockpicking the cell doors with them watching the only entrance. I stood behind the nearest corner and considered my options carefully.

    At least until an ear-shattering explosion shook the entire building.

    I almost lost my balance. Dust was wrestled free from the stonework, the building rumbled and groaned, and a bright flash of light leaked into the wood-boarded windows from the outside. I steadied myself against the wall.

    So much for subtlety. Veronica must have had other ideas. I stepped around the corner and with all the cool I could muster, I shot both men dead with a pair of accurate rounds to the dome. They flopped to the ground in a heap, and my sticky fingers helped themselves to the keyring on the first¡¯s belt. They never saw me coming.

    Cognizant of the questions that would arise when I showed up with the keys, I removed the mask and pocketed my pistol, buttoning up my coat to prevent the holster from being seen on accident. I moved into the spiral stairwell and waited for a minute to pass before stepping into the dungeon¡¯s main hallway.

    Samantha, Claude, and a pair of unfamiliar faces stood out to my left, pressing up against the bars.

    ¡°Fancy meeting you here!¡±

    ¡°Samantha?¡± Claude squawked.

    I fiddled with the keyring and tried each one on the lock until it finally fit and the door swung open. Samantha had an expression that combined abject terror with a looming sense of inevitability. Of course, I was here and involved in this mess ¨C when was I ever allowed to kick back and relax? She was just surprised that I hadn¡¯t shown my face earlier.

    ¡°What was that big explosion?¡± one of the older men inquired.

    ¡°I imagine that someone decided to detonate their armoury. They will be scrambling to control the damage. It¡¯s now or never.¡±

    I moved down the hall and unlocked the rest of the cells, releasing two dozen people in the process. Some of them had to be shaken back into wakefulness by their roommates, but eventually, they were all lined up and ready to make their exit. They were all filled with good and reasonable questions, but I wasn¡¯t going to answer any of them.

    ¡°How did you sneak in here?¡± Samantha muttered as I returned to the head of the convoy.

    ¡°Back door. It¡¯s not very well guarded. I don¡¯t know how, but some police officers are tearing their way through the place as we speak,¡± I lied, ¡°We¡¯d better take advantage and get out of here before they decide to feed you all to a demon.¡±

    That was good enough motivation to get their frozen feet moving behind me. This was the easy part of the job, now I merely had to escort them out of the death trap with only one gun and no backup.

    The things I do for Durandia.

 Chapter 96

    None of this sat well with Max.

    Maria, for all of her commanding presence and skills, was a single girl his own age. She was not suited to take on hundreds of armed killers - even if she was wielding a stolen weapon. She was brimming with confidence, assured that she would successfully locate the hostages and release them.

    All Max could do was sit in the barracks and mope. It made him feel pathetic. He¡¯d leapt into action when it was on offer, but the reality of that was like running into a brick wall. The only thing he¡¯d managed to do was hand off some information to her. What was he expecting to do when he agreed to Hoffman¡¯s bargain?

    He cast a weary glance to the slumbering cultists in the barracks with him. Feldstein was still nowhere to be found, and he was confident that a lot of the other cultists weren¡¯t as personable as he was. The whole reason he was staying put and keeping quiet was because of the potential consequences of disobedience.

    Max¡¯s decision was ultimately made for him by an unforeseen event.

    He leapt out of his chair in fear as the entire fort rumbled, an ear-splitting explosion echoing through the valley and shaking the very foundations of the hill the fort was built upon. The cultists in the bunks did the same, tumbling over the edge or jolting awake in shock.

    Luckily ¨C the explosion didn¡¯t reach inside. In that split-second, Max reasoned that staying put was actually a terrible idea. He hurried out of the room before the sleeping cultists could get their bearings and started moving towards the throne room. If he couldn¡¯t rescue the others, he could at least frustrate their plan by hiding the book somewhere.

    If they didn¡¯t have the book, they couldn¡¯t perform their ceremony, and that would mean they¡¯d have to keep the prisoners alive until they could find it again. That was what Adrian figured based on his own meeting with Hoffman, anyway.

    The explosion sent everyone in the fort scrambling. They completely ignored him and ran towards the scene in small groups, some armed with weapons and others not. It was almost too easy to reach the double doors again. Feldstein was still nowhere to be seen, but now he had a good excuse for trying to get out of the way.

    He approached the doors and peered through the crack to check if any of the stone masons were still chipping away at the floor. The circle he saw during Hoffman¡¯s speech wasn¡¯t finished as far as he could tell, with several of the smaller areas being left blank. He could still see the tools they¡¯d used, but now they were haphazardly thrown onto the floor as a blind panic overtook them.

    Hoffman wasn¡¯t going to be happy about that. They were on a strict time limit. They needed to complete the circle first before they could kill any of them. Max took his chance and slipped into the room, hurrying across the carved summoning circle and jogging up the steps to reach the podium. The masons had left it there, presumably to utilise it as a reference for their work.

    It was opened on a page that detailed some of the rules about the circle itself and what each rune inside of it meant. There was no time to stay and read through it, but Max picked up on particular words and ideas from a brief glance. Adrian was right ¨C they were doing something extremely profane. They intended to use this book to unleash a great evil on the surrounding area.

    Max wouldn¡¯t allow it. They¡¯d already harmed innocent people in their quest for instability. Samantha¡¯s hometown was collateral damage to them. It was his duty as one of her friends to stop them from annihilating the place she called home. He slammed the book shut and hoisted it up, only to discover that the thing was incredibly heavy!

    It looked thick, but to hold it was another matter entirely. The hundreds and hundreds of thick pages, combined with the haphazard binding on the inside, only added to the density. It was big too. Max couldn¡¯t fit it into his coat pocket without someone being able to see it. He had to settle for slipping it beneath the coat and tucking it under his arm.

    He just needed to find a good place to hide it. Even a minor delay to their plot would give the police the opportunity to storm the fort and put this whole ordeal to bed. The fort was huge. He could probably throw it into any old storage room and rest assured that nobody would find it in time.

    Rather than go back through the double doors, Max chose to escape through the other exit behind the dais. It spilt outwards into a narrow corridor that ran along the far edge of the building, intended for quick escapes or secure transferals for the royal family.

    He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and the sounds of the cultists outside struggling to contain the blaze that had been left in the wake of the detonation. Max had no clue who was responsible for that. It may have even been an accident. It wasn¡¯t safe being surrounded by so many crates filled with Goddess-knows-what.

    Where did this passage lead exactly? That was the mystery that drove him onwards. It had to spit him out somewhere, and he hoped that it was a good place to hide a conspicuous book. The light was allowed to leak into the passage through a series of small slits in the stonework, but it was by no means a clear path to take. Even the relatively short distance the passageway covered plunged into darkness right in front of his eyes.

    It took all of his nerves to stay calm. Every time a situation like this happened, he found himself wondering what he did in a past life to deserve such rotten treatment. There was a light at the end of the tunnel after a few minutes of squeezing through. An incredibly narrow door awaited at the other end. It was a miracle that the door wasn¡¯t locked.

    What wasn¡¯t so convenient was the area where he found himself spat out. The confidence died in his throat as he realised that he was in one of the two main courtyards of the fort. He¡¯d blundered directly into the place where the explosion occurred.

    Max tried to stay calm and loitered at the edge of the yard behind a crate.

    It was easy to see where the explosion had occurred. One of the buildings in the outer courtyard had been evaporated into a pile of stones and wooden planks. There was no indication that a building used to stand there ¨C just a crater and a burning fire on the wall next to it. The cultists hurried back and forth with buckets of water, trying to stop it from spreading and destroying their defences.

    The devastation was in line with what he was anticipating from the noise. He could see injured men and women being carted away from the scene of the blast, actively bleeding from wounds caused by the shrapnel that flew in every direction. There was a sense of confusion from those who beheld the damage. Nobody knew how or why the storehouse went up in flames.

    It couldn¡¯t have been Maria ¨C she went off in the direction of the cells to try and free the others. Was it an accident, or was there another saboteur hiding amongst their ranks, striking now that they believed the time was right? This was no police assault. Whoever did this was already on the inside. Max took advantage of the confusion and slipped away before anyone spotted him observing the damage.

    There was a new problem to deal with. The tour he received was not exhaustive and the fort was huge. It was impossible for him to know where the safest area to hide the book would be. It needed to be out of the way ¨C but also placed in a location where no reasonable person would look should a search be dispatched to find it.

    The book was the biggest Max had ever seen or handled. It was thick and the bright red cover stood out against the dull surroundings. Fully obscuring its form was essential. It was a good thing that Max was the undisputed hide-and-seek champion of his and Claude¡¯s village, even if Claude would have an unkind word to say about his claim to the title.

    The first idea that came to mind was the supply crates. There were hundreds of them, presumably packed to the top with food, weapons, ammunition and spare clothes. You couldn¡¯t walk for a few meters without running headfirst into one of them. They occupied most of the rooms in the fort¡¯s central building, which meant they were both common and easily obfuscated. One crate was identical to another aside from the exterior marking ¨C and none of them were designated for the book in the first place.

    Max ran back into the main building and delved deep into the bowels of the place in search of one such room. Any of them would do. What he found was a storage location tucked away into the back corner of a long dead end. He grabbed a prying tool from the top of the box and unlatched a random one that was filled with clothes. He pulled them aside and found an unused shirt. The book happily slid into the fabric, which he wrapped around several times to prevent it from falling out.

    Then, he left it there buried beneath them. It would take a monumental effort to find it using time they didn¡¯t have. Presuming that they hadn¡¯t yet devoted the information inside to memory and that they were wise enough to avoid forging ahead without that knowledge, it would mean that the police could launch their attack on the fort without fear of a terrible monster ripping through them like a whirlwind.

    Max was not sure if Adrian¡¯s description was apt ¨C he himself expressed doubts about the validity of Hoffman¡¯s claims, but it was better to take the safe route and prevent him from trying than risk it being true.

    Now he just had to get back and find Maria.

    <hr>

    I was being overly optimistic when I thought things were going to go smoothly.

    A lot of the people the cultists had locked away were suffering from a variety of ailments. The cold sapped the strength from their bodies, and the scant food and water they were given kept them from moving quickly along as I tried to move them towards our exfiltration point. Veronica was gunning for the book as I spoke, so she wasn¡¯t going to swoop in and help.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°How in the Goddess¡¯ grace did you find us here?¡± my Father whispered.

    ¡°I did some investigation of my own. I could hardly sit back and allow my Father and compatriots to be left to this murderous lot, now.¡±

    That was not a satisfactory answer ¨C and I was being evasive in a way that alarmed him.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t approve of you throwing yourself into this situation, Maria. We¡¯ll have to have a long talk once we get home.¡± He was still doing to ¡®stern father¡¯ act in the middle of all of this. That was the most astonishing thing I¡¯d seen thus far.

    The explosion was the opportunity we needed to make our dash for the exit. All of the cultists were running around like headless chickens, trying to find the person responsible and put out the fire before the damage could spread.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost to the exit. A little more and we¡¯ll be away from the fort.¡±

    I was trying to convince myself more than anything. I couldn¡¯t believe we¡¯d made it this far without running into any of the cultists. This was pure luck. I was not in control of this situation in the slightest and I¡¯d never dream of trying a plan this audacious if not for the pressing circumstances.

    Just a little more. I could see the final hallway we needed to clear right in front of my eyes. We were close, but that was when Hoffman turned up to put a kibosh to my hastily laid plan.

    He was waiting in the hallway just before our destination with a pair of armed guards. The convoy screeched to a halt, with me forced to stay at the front and ward away any hostile action. The problem was that I couldn¡¯t draw my gun and shoot at them without revealing my secret to the hostages.

    It wasn¡¯t an ideal scenario anyway. I was better served as the brave but outmatched heroine, something that would give Hoffman pause to shoot me dead on the spot rather than hearing me out. There was a cry of despair from some of the nobles as they discovered that the nightmare wasn¡¯t over just yet.

    Hoffman regarded me with scorn in his eyes.

    ¡°Did you honestly think it was going to be that easy?¡± he chuckled, ¡°I was not born yesterday. When chaos is near, that means the enemy wants your eyes to be diverted from their true objective.¡±

    The guards he brought with him quickly encircled us and prevented our exit through the back trench line. I chose not to draw my own weapon, knowing that it would only result in my death at their hands. This was my first meeting with Hoffman and the grave injury that covered one half of his face aligned nicely with his ominous reputation.

    His eyes met mine, ¡°And who would you happen to be? I don¡¯t recall recovering you.¡±

    Damian stepped in front of me and held his arm across my path, ¡°Never mind that. Do you not have a more pressing issue to handle at the moment?¡±

    Hoffman snorted, ¡°There is nothing more important to me than fulfilling our Goddess-given task, and we cannot do that without our guests of honour. Your selfishness is boundless. When presented with the chance to right this world¡¯s wrongs and protect Walser, you choose to protect only yourselves.¡±

    ¡°Bah. Don¡¯t speak of protecting others, you violent brute. All of this blood spilled and for what purpose? You don¡¯t even know if this scheme of yours will do anything! Those confidence-laced words are the worst kind of insult.¡±

    ¡°Sacrifices must be made for the betterment of the whole.¡±

    Hoffman considered his next move. The cells were compromised, and there was someone in the fort trying to cause as much damage as they could. The safest place to keep them would be the throne room. That way he could protect the summoning circle from being damaged by using them as human shields ¨C an elegant solution that killed two birds with one stone.

    ¡°Follow me.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t an order that anyone was positioned to refuse. The jovial atmosphere took a sudden nosedive. There was no comfort that I could offer to them because I was starting to get stressed about how I was getting them out of there in one piece. Hoffman led us by gunpoint until we reached an interesting set of doors.

    What lay beyond was a room that dwarfed every other in the fortress. It was a throne room, presumably to be used by the monarchy should the capital fall into enemy hands during the civil war.

    The real issue was the gigantic summoning circle that Hoffman¡¯s men had chiselled into the floor. It was an irritatingly clever solution for making a complex drawing out of human blood. It couldn¡¯t simply be washed away or suffer an error in the creation process because of how precisely it was created. All they had to do was kill the sacrifices in the right places and let gravity do the rest.

    ¡°I can¡¯t allow a drop of your blood to be spilt before the anointed time. There¡¯s no reason to be in a hurry, we¡¯re getting very close. Just a few finishing touches and you will all see the grand painting we¡¯ve created together.¡±

    Hoffman turned to face us. The group stood away from the circle ¨C not wanting to risk their lives by stepping onto it. A large gap separated us. Again, his attention was focused on me. With Damian standing to my left, he finally caught on to what my deal was.

    ¡°Oh, I see. The good daughter is here to rescue her Father. How noble of you.¡±

    ¡°I was not the one who caused that explosion before you ask.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t come alone?¡±

    ¡°No. I did. It¡¯s merely a coincidence. This is the central point of the conflict, is it not? It would be strange if I were the only person attempting to interfere.¡±

    Hoffman stroked his facial hair, ¡°I have to credit you for the attempt. You are of a brave sort to sneak into this fortress given the situation, and you almost got away with it.¡±

    ¡°Your flattery is wasted.¡±

    He frowned, ¡°I know. Your Father already refused my gracious offer before. I won¡¯t waste my breath by extending the same mercy to you.¡±

    ¡°And what would that offer be, exactly? If you want him to break the law, you should be forewarned that he is the single greatest stickler for rules that you may ever meet.¡±

    Hoffman sighed, ¡°Yes. I became quite aware of that during our meeting. There is an opportunity for a handful of you to live. That offer is still open to the rest of you. All I ask is that you support our attempts to save this world from destruction.¡±

    He was trying to use the prisoner¡¯s dilemma on them, but if the offer was still open that meant not enough of them had taken him up on it. Max didn¡¯t mention anyone else doing the same, and everyone was certain that the entire cohort of prisoners remained in the cells from the first moment they arrived.

    The silence was deafening. Nobody chose to accept his offer.

    He exhaled through his nose and rubbed the corners of his eyes in frustration. He was hoping to cash in a big payday from this, but it hadn¡¯t worked. He wasn¡¯t getting at anybody¡¯s family fortune like this.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised. I believed that at least some of you were rational enough to understand what an opportunity this is. Why is it that you pick now, of all times, to take a principled stand for something as immaterial as your own satisfaction?¡±

    Fernando pushed through the group and stepped out onto the circle without reservation, ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of your words! I¡¯d rather you be quiet than make these obscene offers to us. Your promises are worth nothing.¡±

    Tensions were heating up. I didn¡¯t like that. Hoffman was trying to pitch himself as the reasonable one, the good cop, with the people he led being the bad actors. They could snap and shoot one of us at any moment. Hoffman looked down at the circle and noticed that it wasn¡¯t finished yet.

    ¡°Where are the masons?¡± he barked.

    ¡°They must have run away when the explosion happened,¡± one of the guards explained.

    ¡°Then go get them back! We can¡¯t complete the ritual if the circle isn¡¯t finished!¡±

    The guard bowed his head and quickly left the room, confident that Hoffman and his other friend could handle a group of unarmed nobles. With Hoffman facing us, he was left completely unaware while the door behind the dais opened and a figure stepped through. She snuck around the edge of the platform and observed how many foes there were to dispatch.

    Veronica was back. She sure took her sweet time.

    The guard who remained had drawn the short straw. Veronica pulled her pistol and shot him twice through the back. His dead body fell in a heap on the ground, and Hoffman knew that he was rumbled. Veronica had the jump on him. He raised his hands into the air and threw his weapon onto the ground. The nobles screamed in shock at the sight of a man being gunned down in front of them, cowering at either side of the room to try and avoid being caught in the line of fire. Samantha grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the nearest stone pillar so that we could hide too.

    Damian, for his part, refrained from calling out her name and making matters more complicated than they already were. Veronica stood atop the steps with a gun in one hand and a stick of dynamite in the other. She didn¡¯t spare a glance in his direction. She was only focused on the job.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that this ceremony is cancelled, Hoffman. I¡¯m here to retrieve the book and see you off to the next life.¡±

    Hoffman growled, ¡°I take it that you¡¯re the damnable cur who WISA sent? I thought that our ambush on the train would be rid of you. I was sadly mistaken.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I almost forgot about that,¡± she laughed, ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You have a lot of information that I want, so I won¡¯t kill you yet. You can start by telling me who your spy on the inside is, and where you¡¯ve hidden the book.¡±

    Hoffman¡¯s eyes darted to the wooden altar to her left. She followed his gaze but found nothing.

    ¡°Go ahead. Where is it?¡±

    Hoffman realized that she wasn¡¯t playing a silly game to screw with him. It was an issue that I¡¯d neglected to catch before she arrived. The book was missing. There was no sign of it on the altar.

    Without the book, he couldn¡¯t complete the ritual circle, but if he revealed that he¡¯d lost it ¨C then he¡¯d lose what little leverage he had over Veronica in the process. She believed that he was hiding it from her and she couldn¡¯t kill him until he talked.

    ¡°Why would I tell you that? Do you honestly believe that I¡¯m stupid enough to hand it over to you given this situation? You¡¯re already planning on killing me ¨C so don¡¯t bother offering me my life. I dedicated my existence to this path long ago. I¡¯m a dead man walking.¡±

    ¡°But if you talk there might be time to rally your men and escape this fort before the police turn it into a mass grave. That explosion only underlined the urgency of their operation. They¡¯re going to act soon. Do you have time to follow the plan now?¡±

    I really thought she should have just killed him then and there, but she wanted to get her grubby hands on the book. It was revealing that her priority was that, and not to rescue the hostages. Was it damage control, or another goal entirely? I didn¡¯t trust her to do the right thing.

    They were at an impasse. I guessed that Hoffman didn¡¯t know where the book had been misplaced in the chaos, so he wasn¡¯t going to tell her that he had no idea when she was holding him at gunpoint. Veronica wasn¡¯t going to pull the trigger if there was a chance of him having that information. She needed someone to talk ¨C the fort was too big to search by herself.

    Almost two minutes passed with neither saying a word.

    Samantha whispered to me, ¡°What should we do?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. This is bad. Nobody knows where the book is.¡±

    ¡°What is this book?¡± Sam inquired.

    ¡°He needs it to summon a demon from the veil.¡±

    ¡°Then... isn¡¯t it a good thing that they don¡¯t know?¡±

    ¡°I want to know. I want to keep it away from both of them.¡±

    Samantha stared at me, and then at Veronica, and then at me, and then at Veronica. Her neurons were firing at their maximum power as the pieces fell into place. She opened her mouth but second-guessed herself. She looked at my face and narrowed her eyes, before finally coming out with her great revelation.

    ¡°Wait. Is she your mother?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°But she looks exactly like you.¡±

    ¡°I know she does.¡±

    Our debate was interrupted by the arrival of an unwelcome visitor. Max poked his head through the double doors and beheld the spectacle that was ongoing inside the throne room. When he¡¯d visited just a few minutes ago, there was nobody there. Now it was filled from wall to wall with nobles, Hoffman, and a stranger holding him at gunpoint.

    Veronica was quick to yell and order at him; ¡°You, boy! Close the door behind you.¡±

    Max was not in a position to refuse. He stepped through and shut it, pulling down the wooden bar that ran across the span to prevent someone from opening it again. I swore under my breath. This wasn¡¯t what I wanted to see.

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    Max stiffened, ¡°Maxwell Abdah.¡±

    His Father was waving to him from the other side of the room as if to beckon him over.

    Veronica smiled, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose that you know where the book is?¡±

    Goddess help me - his expression said it all. He knew where the book had gotten to, and now he was facing an impossible decision.

    Just who was he going to side with?

 Chapter 97

    Max was the one who hid the book. I could feel it in my gut. It was not a conclusion based on a wealth of hard evidence, rather, I was thinking through the situation as if it were the climax of a story. He was returning to the scene of the crime after making away with the tome ¨C leaving him in a precarious position indeed.

    I didn¡¯t like the sound of either Hoffman or Veronica getting their hands on it, given her sudden turn in antagonistic behaviour. The book was simply too dangerous to be left in their hands. Genta had presumably been using it responsibility for his research for decades, but the moment outside influences got involved that changed.

    There was a vector here that they could exploit. I could imagine the shadowy figures gathering in a meeting room at WISA¡¯s headquarters so they could discuss the military implications of summoning demons onto the battlefield. A handful of people would rightly point out that it was a horrible idea, but they¡¯d be browbeaten into submission by bigwigs with too much at stake to back down and reconsider.

    But I was getting too deep into the realm of the hypothetical. It was equally possible that the government was simply concerned with getting it out of the Scuncath¡¯s possession. It was all too easy to ascribe a hidden motive to organizations like the government and their agencies.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± Hoffman asked.

    ¡°I was just... trying to see what all of the commotion was about. Feldstein went missing when the explosion happened.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve picked a poor bloody time to show your face, then.¡±

    Hoffman did not suspect him in the slightest. There were supposed to be guards and masons in the room at all times of day. They were the ones who were most likely to stab him in the back and steal the tome for themselves because they knew the schedule and location of all the moving pieces. They could find the perfect time to slip between the cracks in that schedule and rob him blind.

    Max didn¡¯t notice me hiding in the corner, so when he saw Veronica for the first time he blurted out an important piece of information.

    ¡°Maria?¡±

    Veronica shook her head. It was only on closer inspection that he noticed she was an entirely different person. It was a silly thing to say. Veronica¡¯s hair was much shorter than mine, and she was taller than me too. It was with that that he turned his head to the side and spotted me hanging with Samantha behind one of the pillars. He did a double take and compared us directly, just as Sam did before.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough of the comedy act,¡± Veronica declared, ¡°That storehouse isn¡¯t the only place where I¡¯ve planted some deadly surprises for your men. If you won¡¯t talk ¨C then I¡¯ll blow holes in your clubhouse until the police come running. Picking through the place with their help will be more constructive than trying to squeeze information out of you.¡±

    ¡°And if the book is destroyed in the process?¡±

    Veronica shrugged, ¡°Collateral damage. I can honestly take it or leave it.¡±

    ¡°Then I won¡¯t say a thing,¡± Hoffman asserted, ¡°It can remain lost to you.¡±

    ¡°What is she looking for?¡± Max ventured.

    ¡°The book! She¡¯s looking for the book. So stitch those lips, lad.¡±

    That was his way of telling Max to keep it quiet. Hoffman hadn¡¯t accused him of stealing the book, but if Max was responsible, he wanted him to let no details slip to Veronica. But that was especially problematic to Hoffman because Max wasn¡¯t on his side in the first place.

    If Max had reason to believe that Veronica was working with the police to get everyone free, then he¡¯d offer whatever information it took to make that happen. Veronica leapt at the chance and started laying out her bait.

    ¡°I¡¯m with the police. Don¡¯t tell me that you¡¯re one of these true believers.¡±

    I hated to admit that it was a smart move. She was hedging her bets and offering him a way out that got him what he wanted. Max didn¡¯t know what was really going on here. He didn¡¯t even understand what was at stake, but he didn¡¯t bite down just yet. He hesitated. Why was this so-called policewoman so intent on retrieving the book first? The one that allowed the cult to summon a dangerous demon from the other side.

    It didn¡¯t pass the smell test. Max was a sheltered boy from a noble house, but he¡¯d heard enough detective stories by proxy from Claude to understand that not everything was as it seemed. She was asking him to give up what leverage he possessed in exchange for nothing at all.

    ¡°If I did know where the book was ¨C would you even be able to evacuate everyone in exchange for it? That¡¯s what you¡¯re trying to offer me, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°I am.¡±

    Max played his role, ¡°I don¡¯t care about what happens to these people. Hoffman promised to show me a path worth walking, and that I could rise to be the head of our family at that. Save your empty promises for someone who¡¯ll listen.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s eyes narrowed. The game was afoot, and all three players were doing their best to pry the truth away from one another. My nerves started to fray. I wished that I was in Max¡¯s place, that I was in control of the situation instead of him. I had no clue as to what he was trying to do. I hated that sort of uncertainty.

    ¡°He won¡¯t be showing you anything if I pull this trigger. He was the one who convinced you to turn on your family, after all ¨C without him, you won¡¯t have a reason to keep the book hidden.¡±

    ¡°Why do you keep assuming that I know where it is? I only joined this morning. I¡¯m hardly well placed to keep a secret like that.¡±

    What a horrendously stupid situation this was. Veronica didn¡¯t know who had the book, Hoffman didn¡¯t know either, and now Max was pleading ignorance about it too - but Hoffman was seemingly under the impression, correctly, that he did know. Veronica couldn¡¯t twist Max¡¯s arm with threats because she didn¡¯t have a read on which side he was dedicated to.

    What Max wanted to hear was a genuine assertion that revealing the book to Veronica would help us get out of here, but that was hard for her to do when she was the only one here. There was no police presence waiting in the wings to bust down the front door and start cracking skulls.

    I didn¡¯t judge Max for making a mistake ¨C but he¡¯d screwed up.

    By trying to play both sides, he had revealed where his true loyalties lay. Veronica picked up on that and started to ruthlessly exploit it. She turned her gun from Hoffman¡¯s back and tilted it in the direction of the group where his Father was hiding.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t tell me where the book is, I¡¯ll start killing all of the people in this room, one by one.¡±

    Whether she was willing to follow through with that threat was a genuine mystery. Her handlers dispatched her to rescue them from the cult, not kill them herself. She wanted to get her hands on the book and was trying this gambit to do so. Max looked to me as if to ask for advice, but I couldn¡¯t say anything that would help him now.

    I nodded.

    That was all the prompting he needed to understand. This situation was not going to be resolved through words, there had to be a shakeup first. There were too many hostages in the room and not enough options for getting them out without being harmed.

    ¡°Fine. I know where it is. I saw where they hid it.¡±

    Hoffman was visibly betrayed by this - but not to the extent that he turned into a raving madman. In his eyes, it was simply the outcome of a boy who was still too afraid to let go of his connections and take hold of his own destiny. It was a disappointing outcome but not one that was unexpected.

    Max¡¯s use of an unknown ¡®they¡¯ to levy the responsibility onto did keep the door open for him to appeal to Hoffman later. He was doing the smart thing and keeping his options diverse in case he needed them. He was very sharp ¨C and I hadn¡¯t even taught him to do any of this.

    Veronica was paying close attention to where his eyes went. She singled out Claude, Samantha, Adrian and I as the additional leverage she wanted for her plot.

    ¡°You three, you¡¯re coming with.¡±

    Bad, really bad. I wanted to escort the rest of the hostages out of the fort first, but she wanted to keep a close eye on me. I stepped out from behind the pillar and approached my Father on the other side of the chamber so we could discuss this offer.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t really considering staying, are you?¡± he asked me under his breath.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a choice. You should take the opportunity and leave here before the police arrive. If you go through the door I showed you and straight ahead, you¡¯ll reach one of the main roads into the village. She doesn¡¯t care about any of that. She¡¯s here for the book.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s...¡±

    I gave him a knowing look, ¡°I already know who she is. I¡¯d be blind not to see it.¡±

    Damian stared wearily over my shoulder at the woman with the gun.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have a long talk once we get home. I promise. I suppose it¡¯s about time that I told you everything.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Once we get home. So, I need you to lead these people out of here.¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Damian was taken aback - but for what reason, I was in the dark. He saw something in me in that moment that he¡¯d never considered before, bubbling to the surface now that I was in the same room as my Mother. A reunion seemingly thirteen years in the making.

    ¡°I should be worried, but when you say it like that I can only see you making it through this without a scratch,¡± he chuckled.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be right behind you.¡±

    Damian rallied the hostages to his side and escorted them out of the throne room, leaving only Hoffman, Veronica, and me with the others. The real shock came when I noticed that Adrian had stopped behind for whatever reason. He was still standing in the same place, having nobody to pull him along and out of danger.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving.¡±

    ¡°I already know that, why aren¡¯t you leaving?¡± I reiterated.

    Veronica cut us off, ¡°I don¡¯t care. If you¡¯re going to stick around, don¡¯t get in my way. Over here ¨C now.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t going to get an answer so easily. We headed back over to Samantha and the others while Veronica busied herself with preparing for our next movement through the fortress.

    She grabbed Hoffman by the scruff of his neck and checked his pockets for any additional weapons. She found another pistol and some magazines, which she quickly confiscated for herself. There was also an ornate-looking knife in his coat¡¯s front pouch.

    ¡°Any other surprises for me?¡±

    Hoffman kept his silence, content to stew in the knowledge that his plan was on the rocks without his noble sacrifices.

    ¡°Genta!¡±

    The bumbling scholar emerged from the same back passage that Veronica used and shuffled into the middle of the room. His eyes widened in shock at the scale of the summoning circle the cultists had constructed using his book. It was wide enough that five adult men could lay end to end and still not reach the edge.

    ¡°S-Shall I do what we discussed?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Stay here until I return. I¡¯m going to retrieve the book now.¡±

    Genta hurried over to one of the discarded hammer and chisel sets by the wall, taking them and staring down at the circle. Hoffman was forced to look straight ahead, marching away from the dais and towards the main entrance. Veronica kept the gun held to the back of his head and urged us to navigate towards the area where Max had hidden the book just moments ago. He must have been experiencing serious d¨¦j¨¤ vu by this point.

    ¡°What if there are more guards waiting for us?¡± Samantha fretted.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry about them. I¡¯ve left another few presents for them to deal with, intended to detonate at different intervals and make sure that they never quite get their footing in controlling the damage. In fact...¡±

    The building shook with the force of another explosion, though this one was less violent than the first.

    ¡°...That should be the trench entrance at the East wall going up in flames.¡±

    Hoffman so badly wanted to say something in response ¨C but he had the barrel of a gun pressed into the back of his head, and he knew that he ran the risk of angering Veronica by responding. Max led us to a far-flung corner of the building, where a lone door led into a cramped storeroom.

    ¡°Is this the place?¡± Veronica asked.

    Max nodded, ¡°I didn¡¯t see where they hid it ¨C so it might take a minute for us to find it.¡± Veronica looked through the open door to make sure that there were no other exits for Max to escape through.

    ¡°You and your friends can look. I¡¯m keeping an eye on Hoffman.¡±

    I followed Adrian and Max into the room, while Samantha and Claude remained outside. There was no privacy to be found here, and no opportunity to come up with another plan to get away from this situation. Veronica was watching us like a hawk. Max made a show of checking some of the other crates before landing on the correct one. It was a good thing that Veronica couldn¡¯t see his face because he looked very nervous.

    Eventually, he pushed the top of one of the boxes into the air and went digging deep into the contents. He returned after a minute with the red-bound book between his fingers.

    ¡°Found it.¡±

    We returned to the group. Max kept a hold of the book and Veronica made no efforts to take it from him. She wanted to keep Hoffman under control.

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s safe to have this book out in the open again?¡± I asked, ¡°It would have been safer to leave it in there for the police to find later.¡±

    Veronica sent a glare in my direction. We were still pretending to be strangers.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough questions from all of you. We¡¯re going back to the throne room.¡±

    She turned around and led us back the way we came. The tension in the air was thick and getting heavier with every passing second. The gun resting against my left ribcage was irritating me, begging me to draw it and retake control of the situation.

    Hoffman tried to lighten the mood with some discussion.

    ¡°For what purpose are you staying here, Roderro?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You do not have any stake left in this fight. You could have gone with the rest of them and been away by now.¡±

    ¡°I want to make sure that you don¡¯t come back and try this again.¡±

    Hoffman laughed so gutturally that he almost choked on his own spittle.

    ¡°Oh! And I suppose that you¡¯ll be the one to put a bullet in me, then? Don¡¯t fool yourself ¨C Adrian, you are not suited for this kind of matter. Besides, there are enemies much closer to home that you should dedicate your energy to countering.¡±

    Hoffman stopped walking, and Veronica was forced to pause with him.

    ¡°Keep walking.¡±

    ¡°Why? You already have the book. For what other purpose do you need me? I¡¯m doing the boy a favour! He¡¯s too ignorant to know the truth, and that¡¯ll get him killed in future!¡±

    ¡°What in seven hells are you talking about?¡± Adrian roared.

    Hoffman twisted his head to the left and peered at him from the corner of his good eye. It was a twisted visage for a man who was trying his hardest to have one last twist of the knife.

    ¡°Your uncle. He was the one who told us how to get into that house of yours, he even gave us your bloody schedule as well. We knew exactly where and when to find you because of him. All he wanted in return was for you to die at our hand. He¡¯s a ruthless dealmaker, that man.¡±

    Now that was interesting. Even Veronica was given pause by the revelation.

    Adrian shook his head in frank denial, ¡°You honestly think I¡¯m going to believe that? You¡¯re wriggling like a snake. You¡¯ll say anything to get out of this.¡±

    I stepped in with an outside perspective; ¡°No, it makes sense ¨C actually.¡±

    He scowled, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t know who told the thief about your watch, but you just didn¡¯t jump to the correct conclusion. Ask yourself this, what would happen to you if you were placed in a dangerous situation without it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d die.¡±

    ¡°Yes, the unwed, isolated head of the house would die at the hands of somebody else. Who would stand to gain from that happening?¡±

    ¡°...My uncle. He¡¯d inherit everything, he could wrest control away from my Father.¡±

    There was a sober expression on Adrian¡¯s face as he put the pieces together. The watch, the attack on his estate, these were all events that could have been planned by a member of his own family. He could have leaked that sensitive information to the people responsible and let them get their hands dirty, an exchange in return for the head chair of the estate.

    Even so, to sell out one¡¯s own nephew to the Scuncath was a bridge too far. It was a cartoonishly evil act from a man whom I had never met or heard of in any real capacity. Adrian mentioned him once or twice off-handedly after his Father was sentenced to prison.

    Adrian did not explode into a catastrophic meltdown, in somewhat harsh contrast to his usual testy behaviour at the academy. He remained still and clenched his fists again and again while he tried to work through his feelings on the matter. I could tell from the way that his shoulders were pitched high that he was angry, but he did not want to give Hoffman the satisfaction of showing it.

    ¡°That is concerning,¡± he concluded, ¡°But hardly the most pressing matter at the moment.¡±

    Good for him, I thought. It was nice to see that someone was trying to do better by themselves for once. Hoffman was visibly deflated by his failure to make Adrian lose his cool.

    Veronica found that more amusing than he did, ¡°Nice work, idiot. Now get those feet moving before I get bored and shoot you in the spine.¡± She roughly shoved him forward and got the group moving again. I kept my head on a swivel and paid close attention to the intersections we passed through on the trip back.

    And it was because of that alertness that I noticed what was about to happen.

    As we passed one of those crossroads, movement caught my attention. A group of cultists had rounded the corner down the way at that exact moment, and they were armed. With Veronica and Hoffman ahead of us, it meant that our party was split into two halves.

    I grabbed Adrian¡¯s arm before he could cross over and pulled him back with a firm tug. We tripped backwards, but all was forgiven a moment later as Veronica ducked for cover, a hail of gunfire ripping through the hallway and smashing the wall into small pieces of rubble.

    ¡°Bloody hell!¡± he cried. The book slipped from his hand and slid towards Claude, who quickly scooped it up before it was lost in the confusion.

    Veronica couldn¡¯t do anything about it now. She fired back around the corner, but Hoffman was doing his best to be uncooperative, trying to break free. She smashed him across the brow with the butt of her pistol and knocked him for a loop, before dragging him away so that she could go and grab Genta.

    ¡°She¡¯s leaving us alone?¡± Adrian said.

    ¡°She isn¡¯t going to move over here and get shot to oblivion!¡± I replied, ¡°Let¡¯s leave before they find us and do the same.¡±

    We couldn¡¯t hide in the storeroom, but Max had been studying the building and could lead us somewhere just as good. The squad that appeared from the outside were only interested in catching Hoffman and liberating him. They didn¡¯t seem to notice Adrian holding the book that their entire plan hinged on.

    ¡°This way. There¡¯s a room we can hide in over here!¡±

    Max shepherded us away from the fighting and towards a quieter section of the fort. These were the administrivia rooms intended for military officers, small spaces that allowed them privacy to formulate strategy and manage the running of the fort during times of war.

    I slammed the door shut behind us and helped Samantha barricade the door using the desk. Everyone else was too busy catching their breath. We¡¯d bought ourselves some time, but they¡¯d be out in force trying to find the book once they realized it was missing.

    Adrian slumped down against the wall and covered his face, ¡°Why does this keep happening? What did we do to deserve this?¡±

    Claude was looking at the book in his hands with no small amount of awe. He peeled open the cover, but those curious eyes soon glazed over as the dense, technical text inside turned his brain to mush on first contact.

    Samantha was concerned about something else, ¡°I didn¡¯t get to say a word to my Father. He¡¯s going to be worried sick about me.¡±

    Max shook his head, ¡°My Father was completely out of it. He had no idea what was going on.¡±

    ¡°What are we gonna¡¯ do? They¡¯re trying to kill us!¡± Claude fretted.

    This was a bad situation. Everyone was losing their cool, but it wasn¡¯t unexpected. They weren¡¯t used to stress like this. Each and every incident they were dragged into furthered that sense of hopelessness. They were right. There was nothing they could do about this.

    Perhaps the only outcome that did not demand my direction intervention was the early arrival of the police response. They must have seen the chaos that was breaking out inside the fort¡¯s walls, and their primary concern was rescuing the hostages. Samantha and the others were still here ¨C so their families would not allow them to go unrecovered.

    Besides that, the police wanted to exterminate this Scuncath cell before they could cause any more damage. It would be a full-frontal assault on the fortress from all angles, but without their demon to help, the Scuncath would have a difficult fight on their hands.

    The big question hanging over my head was whether Veronica could protect Genta. She was stupid for bringing him along, given the intensity of the situation, but she didn¡¯t want to take any chances if they did summon the Horrcath. If she was taken off-guard by their sheer numbers and they captured him, they wouldn¡¯t even need the book.

    Even moving around the place was dangerous. I didn¡¯t know where she had planted those bombs and they could detonate at any moment. They were likely to be congregated around the base of the walls and inside of the ammunition storehouses, but that meant they had a huge blast radius. She must have killed a lot of them with the first two detonations.

    Samantha noticed the pensive pout on my lips.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have a brilliant plan hidden from us?¡±

    ¡°No. I didn¡¯t intend for us to be trapped in here. I was hoping we could simply slip out through the trench and be done with it.¡±

    Claude sat down on the chair, ¡°And that woman in the throne room, she looked exactly like you.¡±

    ¡°She did,¡± I admitted.

    ¡°Anything to say on that?¡±

    ¡°No. I do not enjoy speculating.¡±

    ¡°Is this really the time?¡± Adrian complained.

    It was rare for me to be in this spot, but I was stumped. We were separated from Veronica and had the book, but those conditions did not fill me with fresh confidence. It was going to be almost impossible to escape without using my gun and clueing the others into my real identity. That was a card I had left in my hand.

    Choosing the right time to play it would be key.

 Chapter 98

    The fort was plunged into the depths of a conflict that it was always intended for but never had the chance to see. Twenty armed cultists waited at the junction by the throne room in a desperate search for an approach into the chamber. Veronica was not making it easy for them, with four dead bodies already pooling at their feet.

    One of the gunmen struggled to work the bolt of his rifle. His hands were shaking and adrenaline was flooding his system. In his rush to eliminate Veronica, he leapt around the corner and attempted to take aim, but the unwieldy nature of the gun in hand meant he was a sitting duck for the trained killer ¨C who was waiting for him on the other side. Two bullets ripped through his chest and splattered blood onto the man next to him.

    A second later, another set of hands reached out from around the corner and tugged the gun out of his clutches. It was too fast for Veronica to shoot at them and score a second kill.

    ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± Veronica whispered. There was no way to stem the tide of warm bodies being thrown in her direction. The moment she gunned down one of the armed men, the next would pilfer their body for a dropped weapon and continue the push.

    Even worse was the ammunition problem. Veronica could only carry so many magazines on her person at once. She was already starting to run dangerously low trying to keep them at bay. This was the whole reason she elected to run her diversionary strategy in the first place.

    In retrospect, it was overly optimistic to expect all of them to remain outside given the circumstances. There were over a hundred Scuncath in the area, and some were bound to be curious about why a series of explosions were tearing the fort to pieces. It didn¡¯t take a genius to realize that they were distractions from the real objective.

    Hoffman was next to her ¨C still half-unconscious after she struck him with her gun. It wouldn¡¯t be long before he became lucid again and made life even more difficult. She wanted him alive so that WISA could have a nice long chat with him about his operation and whether outsiders were helping him. More than ever the government was demanding swift, pre-emptive action against criminal conspiracies like these.

    The Rentree affair was still fresh in their minds. Officially it was a random murder, but WISA and some government insiders knew better than that. Rentree was a monarchist agitator who had been marked for observation last year. They even had a firm idea of who was responsible for the shooting, but she¡¯d all but disappeared from the face of Walser afterwards. Nobody knew where she was.

    They were right about one thing; these sorts of schemes were becoming worryingly regular. It had only been a few months since the last one!

    Veronica had broad discretion with which to act during her assignments. Every WISA agent was expected to direct themselves and make appropriate judgements depending on the situation. Hoffman was a burden. She could use him as a human shield, or shoot him and be done with it. But at the same time, he was a treasure trove of potentially useful intelligence.

    The book would have to wait. It was a pain in the arse, but Veronica would have to rely on gaining custody of it once the police moved in and cleared the place out. She hated having to pull rank on a normal officer because it dumped a huge pile of disclosure paperwork onto her head every time she did it.

    This was a losing battle. She was wasting ammunition to preserve a position that didn¡¯t offer anything that the throne room couldn¡¯t. She fired a shot to keep them at bay and dragged Hoffman to his feet by wrapping her arm around his neck. They fell back to the chamber, where Genta was waiting with a look of sheer panic on his face.

    ¡°What is that horrendous racket going on out there?¡±

    Veronica threw Hoffman to the ground and tied his hands behind his back using a length of rope she had found in the storehouse. She then barred the main doors by using the internal latch. It probably wouldn¡¯t last long under duress.

    ¡°They know we¡¯re here. This is troublesome. Did you remember to lock the other door?¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course ¨C but how are we going to escape now that both exits are sealed?¡±

    ¡°We can go through the passage and open it again.¡±

    ¡°You know what I mean! They¡¯re all outside in the courtyard now. We¡¯ll be spotted if we go back that way.¡±

    ¡°Give me a minute to think, Genta.¡±

    Her tone made it clear that there was no room for argument. Veronica considered all of the pieces on the board and tried to manipulate them into a winning formula. She¡¯d gotten out of tougher jams than this before, it was just another day at the office. Genta paced back and forth over the summoning circle, double-checking that it was as he believed it to be at first glance.

    He shook his head and spoke to himself aloud; ¡°What were they thinking with this?¡±

    Far from ¡®saving¡¯ Walser, the circle would summon a Horrcath with an unprecedented amount of power. Genta¡¯s summoning experiments were conducted in tightly controlled conditions. One of their key discoveries was that the loss of a human life was not necessary to breach the veil, the spilling of blood took on a symbolic power that attracted more aggressive creatures.

    There was no record of what would happen if they succeeded in their plan. Two violent emotions thrown into the stirring waters like bait for predators, with a circle that was both great in size and mind-bogglingly detailed. Genta believed that those records were missing because none of the summoners lived to tell the tale.

    After all, so long as there was uncharted territory someone would seek to explore it. With a potentially powerful force on the other side, it became attractive to all manner of violent criminals and power-hungry schemers.

    The doors shook and rumbled on their great hinges as Veronica¡¯s pursuers finally made their way to the throne room. Time was running ever shorter, yet she seemed no closer to finding the answer to their problem. They were trapped, but Genta saw slipping out through the back tunnel as an option that was growing less viable by the second.

    ¡°Veronica ¨C we have to make a choice. They¡¯ll send more men around to the courtyard to cut us off if we don¡¯t move now.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too late for that. They will have sent someone running to alert the others.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re trapped in here?¡±

    ¡°That appears to be the problem, yes.¡±

    Genta knew better than to become outraged with her words. In the short time they¡¯d spent together, he had come to see her in a variety of different lights and perspectives. She was forceful, and analytical, and was not so concerned with sparing other¡¯s feelings if she deemed it unnecessary.

    Perhaps she saw it as reassuring to have someone instilled with confidence in trying times like these. She wasn¡¯t abrasive ¨C just curt. It was tough to get a read on how she felt about any given issue. The only time she seemed to reveal a crack in her armour was with Maria.

    He wasn¡¯t certain what was going on between the two, but she was insistent to an unusual degree that they leave her behind. Genta agreed. He did not see the value in bringing a young girl along to a dangerous place, but there was a more emotional element to her assertion. Was it because they were Mother and Daughter? She swore on her life that she had no family to speak of.

    ¡°I hope those kids are taking the book with them,¡± Genta muttered, ¡°At least then they won¡¯t be able to complete their ceremony.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t trust a group of teenagers to do that.¡±

    ¡°I know ¨C but in the absence of any better options...¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t fight them all. I was hoping that my gifts would distract them for a while longer. And by the way, why the hell would they need the book when one of the people who wrote it is standing right here?¡±

    Genta¡¯s face fell even further, ¡°Oh. You¡¯re right.¡±

    ¡°But you already sold them that tall tale about the book being erased if they kill you. We can use that. Sorry in advance.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±

    Genta did not receive a verbal answer. Veronica darted towards him like a predator and wrapped her arm around his neck, pushing her gun against the side of his head as the doors were finally forced open, the weak wooden brackets no longer able to hold back the wave of bodies pushing into it from the other side. They tumbled through in their masses, but the sight of their golden ticket being held in her clutches prevented them from becoming overeager and firing at them. Hoffman quickly squirrelled away and out of Veronica¡¯s grasp.

    ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ good name are you doing?¡± Genta squawked.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Veronica whispered, ¡°The safety is on.¡±

    Hoffman pushed his way to the front of the crowd and forced their guns down to the floor with his tied hands, fearful that one of them may pull the trigger and scupper their plans completely. Hoffman wished more than anything that he had the capability to memorize the contents of the Book of Cambry ¨C but he did not. Losing it and one of the men responsible for creating it would make the summoning much harder.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Put them down! Don¡¯t shoot!¡±

    They did as he commanded, though they had no information as to why their leader was speaking with such immense urgency. Hoffman received the report from the men he sent to take the book, and they spoke at length about the curse that was placed on its pages. They couldn¡¯t risk killing Genta lest a third of the contents be wiped clean.

    Of course, this was all a convenient fiction concocted by Genta in the midst of his panicked pleas for mercy after they forced their way into his office. He didn¡¯t foresee it then ¨C but his storytelling abilities were now actively saving his life.

    ¡°We both know you aren¡¯t going to kill the poor man. Why don¡¯t we end this farce before it gets out of hand?¡±

    Veronica stood firm, ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of killing one of my sources without a good reason, but you¡¯re making a strong case for me to tie off this loose end here and now.¡±

    ¡°Bah! You charge into our home, murder our compatriots, and then have the gall to position yourself as a victim! You must see yourself as a righteous sort. I can smell it on you.¡±

    She laughed, ¡°Righteous? I¡¯m the one they send to do the dirty work, Hoffman. I¡¯ve never once been under any illusion about what that means. I¡¯m another tool in the armoury, going where they point me and killing who they want me to kill.¡±

    ¡°Your actions state otherwise. I can see it now, someone split between two objectives ¨C unable to fulfil them both, desperately trying to cling on and have it both ways.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to listen to your recruitment pitch.¡±

    ¡°Then what are you here for, really? To get the book back? To arrest me? None of those things are going to happen. You and I both know that.¡±

    Hoffman was untied by one of his men. He pointed an accusatory finger in her direction.

    ¡°You don¡¯t even understand what you¡¯re fighting for.¡±

    It was hard for her not to laugh at how suddenly he leapt from accusing her of being too high on her own self-interest to then pillorying her for being a disconnected mercenary. These were the rhetorical tactics of a shady recruiter or a snake oil salesman. Attack from all angles, never let the opponent have firm footing and try to exploit their weaknesses before appealing to them emotionally.

    ¡°I have to say, I¡¯m disappointed. When I heard that some madman had rounded up the Scuncath and started tearing arse across the country, I was expecting someone who wasn¡¯t as shoddy as you.¡±

    ¡°Shoddy?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Shoddy. You¡¯re selling people the answers to a question you forced into their heads. Drop the bloody act already.¡±

    The back door was forced open, and another group of cultists forced their way into the chamber. Her plan to ¡®kill¡¯ Genta wasn¡¯t going to work now, but she only did it to buy herself a little more time and prevent them from gunning her down on the spot.

    So, she let him go and dropped her gun onto the floor. Unbeknownst to them, there was another reason for Veronica to surrender. Hoffman took the gun and then held his palm up in the air to signal a halt to the hostilities.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We won¡¯t kill you yet. I have a much better use for that bloodlust.¡±

    Understanding his meaning ¨C the cultists relaxed their stance and fell back. If he couldn¡¯t sacrifice the wealthy and powerful, and exploit their greed, then he would simply have to find suitable replacements. Summoning was not a precise science in the best of circumstances, he simply hoped that his path was one intended for him by the Dark Goddess and that through this notion success would come.

    Veronica was perfect. Her bloodlust and the seething anger beneath the calm fa?ade, it would be an attractive scent to the kind of violent Horrcath they sought to bring through the Veil.  Hoffman did not rue or curse at the downturn in his fortunes, instead, he looked to what he had and adjusted his plan accordingly. Perhaps the arrival of this woman was a blessing in disguise.

    A simple gunshot to the head was not a worthy punishment for her crimes.

    ¡°Now, I assume you have more explosives planted?¡±

    He turned to one of the men and barked an order.

    ¡°Get them away from the walls and storehouses. There might be more of them.¡±

    The man nodded and left to spread the warning to the rest.

    ¡°Smart. But do you honestly think that I¡¯m the only person they sent to stop you?¡± Veronica scoffed, ¡°Obviously not. The main police force are the ones who want to bury you and your friends six feet under. They don¡¯t send a single woman to do all of that.¡±

    ¡°I already know who you are. We¡¯ve got eyes and ears everywhere, you see.¡±

    ¡°I figured as much after that train ambush. A cute attempt, it was almost endearing. I hope you don¡¯t anticipate them remaining embedded with us for long. They¡¯re very good at sniffing out traitors.¡±

    ¡°A position is merely another resource to utilise. It was a shame that our attack failed ¨C but that is why we have contingencies in place.¡±

    Veronica was not worried about finding the mole. As she said, they were extremely good at smoking out people who leaked classified information. It would be a full sweep of every safehouse and office used by WISA and a lot of interviews with agents and eyewitnesses.

    WISA¡¯s systems were designed with that in mind. It was difficult to find space to be alone when working with a handler and the paper pushers were always under close inspection by the managers. Every document and assignment note from the past two years was going to be collated together and the source found.

    The last task would be to dig them a very shallow grave.

    Veronica knew full well their reputation for cruelty and violence, and she was subject to some of it, but never for directly leaking the identity of another officer. That was one line she was unwilling to cross. They¡¯d happily chase the culprit down for the rest of time. There wouldn¡¯t be a moment¡¯s peace for the rest of their newly shortened lives.

    WISA was a softer, more public-facing agency than the informal collection of mercenaries and spies it was before the reformation. That did not mean that the cold-blooded streak was gone, it was actually the opposite. There was a harsh cynicism to everything they did, a bunch of suits sitting at the top and dispatching orders without ever coming into contact with the lives affected.

    Hoffman held his arms out wide as if to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders.

    ¡°Adversity is to be expected. We would not be standing here today if not for our dedication to seeing the plan through to its conclusion. Forces beyond our understanding will attempt to interfere, we need only keep our faith and charge ahead regardless to summon the change we desire.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t even have the sacrifices. It¡¯s over.¡±

    He frowned, ¡°And when did you ever receive that impression? We have enough sacrifices right here! The circle will still work, even if the result will be lesser than it would have been before.¡±

    Genta answered her silent question; ¡°It¡¯s true, though I sincerely doubt the efficiency of that versus the original plan. The offering will likely be too little to summon a truly powerful and long-lasting Horrcath.¡±

    ¡°You misunderstand our intent. We are not seeking to needlessly destroy Walser. We simply wish to put our fingers on the scales and tilt things in the right direction.¡±

    ¡°Are you mad?¡± Genta responded in outrage, ¡°There¡¯s no controlling a Horrcath once it comes through the Veil. It would sooner direct its ire in your direction than wreak the special kind of havoc that you¡¯re hoping for. You should be thankful that your prior sacrifices escaped ¨C the scale of the destruction would be unfathomable.¡±

    Hoffman stroked his beard, ¡°And you are?¡±

    ¡°Doctor Genta Cambry. That book you stole belongs to my family.¡±

    ¡°Doctor Cambry? To think that we are privileged enough to enjoy your erudite company once again.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to butter me up. I¡¯d browbeat you even more if I thought that you¡¯d listen to me! If your intentions were to avoid the destruction of Walser, then you wouldn¡¯t be dallying in such dangerous practices in the first place. Not to mention the overindulgence of this summoning circle.¡±

    Hoffman glared at Veronica, ¡°And you expect me to accept your perspective, tainted as it is by the words of that woman by your side?¡±

    ¡°I am not some puppet for her to toy with. I have my own interests. I would very much like for Walser to continue existing, preferably for as long as possible.¡±

    ¡°The book that your family wrote states clearly that any ¡®intra-veil¡¯ creature must abide by the circle it is summoned from. We are in control, and we have set an exceedingly short time limit for it to manifest in our world.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how long they¡¯re here if they possess the power to devastate an entire continent! They could cast a single spell and annihilate every township from here to the coast. It¡¯s impossible to predict or measure what will come through! Even the most unethical practitioners of the field never sought to do something like this. You are a damned fool ¨C a fool who thinks that the fire will not burn him, and him alone.¡±

    ¡°I respect your work, but I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s too late to debate the matter. This is the path that we must walk. It is the one illuminated by the touch of the Dark Goddess.¡±

    And thus, Genta was struck with the harsh realization that there was no reasoning with Hoffman. He was always hesitant to go along with what Veronica said and her violent means, but now it was clear that violence was the only language that they spoke. When one person refused to sit at the table and play by the same rules, physical conflict was inevitable.

    He was also starting to sense that Veronica didn¡¯t have any other great ideas to get them out of this jam. Even so, she was mostly unperturbed about their threat of using her as a sacrificial element for their ceremony.

    Hoffman sent a number of the guards away so that they could keep watch for any other attacks, but their numbers still outstripped Veronica¡¯s ability to kill them. Hoffman was not going to take any more chances.

    ¡°Should we wait and try to get the nobles back?¡± one of the gunmen inquired.

    Hoffman shook his head, ¡°I¡¯m afraid we don¡¯t have time. If none of the exterior watchmen spotted them, they¡¯d already be in police custody by now. Those explosions are going to spur them forth. If we are to succeed in our ceremony, then we must compromise and summon the Horrcath now.¡±

    ¡°Shall I gather volunteers?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Twelve of them, please.¡±

    He left the room to collect the zealous worshippers and bring them to the throne room. They originally kidnapped more people than they needed for the sake of recruiting a handful of them to the cause, but now that most were free from their clutches replacements had to be found. It was frustrating, but Hoffman knew that there were willing participants among the flock.

    The circle demanded thirteen sacrifices to be arranged in smaller spheres around the outer edge. Even those smaller circles were punctuated with dozens and dozens of intricately designed runes, engraved into the stone floor by hammer and chisel. The book was indispensable when it came to creating the full picture. Luckily, the masons finished their work before they fled the room. They were further along than Hoffman initially thought.

    His considerations were proven right as a breathless cultist burst through the doors and ran over to him.

    ¡°Hoffman! One of the lads was making a scouting run to the east road and he said that the police are already starting to move in. They nearly shot him in the back!¡±

    ¡°Already?¡±

    It was worse than his pessimistic estimate. There was simply no time left to consider matters. They had to act, or they would forever lose their chance to leave their mark on Walser and do the Goddess¡¯ bidding.

    ¡°I want everyone who¡¯s still available to grab a weapon and keep them away from the fort. We do not need to defeat them in battle. Delay them for long enough and the Horrcath will do the hard work for us. The Dark Goddess is on our side! Do not falter in the face of doubt!¡±

    The men roared in agreement. Hoffman delegated several of the guards to leave and man the walls, as they were armed with guns. Only four were left behind to keep an eye on Veronica, but without a weapon of her own, it was still a fight that did not lean in her favour.

    Each man took a different position in the room. Two waited at the twin entrances, the other pair on opposite sides of the chamber by the marble pillars. Veronica wished that she had the speed to outrun a bullet ¨C but she did not. There was no conceivable way for her to dispatch all of them when they were standing so far apart and covering one another¡¯s blind spots so effectively.

    She hated to admit it ¨C but Maria was the only one who could intervene at this point. She was not going to rely on that occurrence though. Her first and only aim was to get out of the room and avoid being used as a sacrifice. Everything would resolve itself if she could do that, all of the pieces were in their proper places.

    She lurked on the edge of the room and waited until the time was right. If Hoffman truly believed that he was in control of the situation, then he was sorely mistaken.

    Veronica only gave up control to him because she willed it.

 Chapter 99

    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± Claude wondered.

    A heavy atmosphere had settled over the office once the initial panic died down. I was counting down the minutes in my head. I was the one starting to feel the stress. It would have been too convenient for the police to launch their attack before the summoning ceremony was completed. Because they were still going to try ¨C that much was obvious.

    Hoffman and the Scuncath creed were replete with people willing to sacrifice their lives for the sake of this plan. The circle would still be effective without the nobles to sacrifice, just to a lesser extent. Even the prospect of them succeeding without those sacrifices was enough to worry Genta, more so than usual.

    ¡°And are we seriously ignoring that the woman with the gun looks exactly like Maria?¡± he continued.

    ¡°Who says we¡¯re ignoring it?¡± I replied, ¡°I¡¯m well aware of that fact but I have nothing else to share on the matter. I don¡¯t know who she is, and I¡¯ve never once seen so much as a picture of my Mother, so I can hardly confirm your suspicions.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you two have been changing places while at the academy for the first term.¡±

    ¡°Are you stupid?¡± I snapped, ¡°She¡¯s at least three decades older than me! Even given the resemblance, you would have to be a damn fool to conclude that we¡¯re the same person.¡±

    Claude wilted away from my scornful retort and hid behind the desk with Max.

    Samantha stepped in to mediate the dispute, ¡°Maria doesn¡¯t lie about things like this. You should take her word for it.¡±

    ¡°Oh please, why are you always taking her side?¡±

    ¡°I do not!¡± Samantha said indignantly, ¡°You¡¯re just casting doubt on her for no good reason!¡±

    ¡°No good reason! Why in the Goddess¡¯ bloody name is she even here in the first place? Are you trying to say that it isn¡¯t odd?¡±

    Samantha did know why I was here, but to reveal that side of my personality would be a breach of trust that she would not be a part of. I was here to solve the problem in my usual violent way. The two guards who were standing outside of the dungeon were shot dead by my hand and she knew that. It was too late to chastise me for it.

    ¡°I came here to get my Father back. No more and no less. Mission accomplished.¡±

    Claude shook his head, ¡°You chose not to leave that to the police? I know that you have a unique way of approaching problems, but this is a step too far. Any normal person would be... doing what Adrian is doing right now!¡±

    Our eyes turned to the person in question, who was presently cradling his head between his knees and trying to ignore what was going on.

    ¡°You seem to have a hard time accepting that people will react differently to the same issue.¡±

    ¡°And you always do this, where you dance around the question and never commit to a proper answer! It just makes you seem even guiltier!¡±

    ¡°Guilty of what?¡±

    Claude stopped dead. I was challenging him to air his pet theories to everyone in the room, to commit to a position that he didn¡¯t feel comfortable in. All he had was a collection of hunches. I was already well aware of what Claude thought of me, it was hard not to given the Academy¡¯s penchant for spreading gossip. Nobody took his claims seriously because there was no evidence for them, and my social persona of a high-class noble lady generated an immense level of scepticism towards the wilder stories.

    The funny part was that he was correct.

    All of the offences he accused me of were right on the money. His intuition was well-tuned, but his overeager personality and inability to gather evidence slammed the brakes on any potential progress in convincing the other students. Even if he did have that evidence, would they honestly believe him? He was a boy eternally cursed to cry wolf.

    I didn¡¯t feel much sympathy for his plight. He irritated me, bringing about a sense of callous disregard that was rare for me to express. It was rare for me to have strong feelings about anyone beyond the targets I used to eliminate on the regular.

    He shook his head and backed away before the argument escalated.

    Samantha was not happy with either of us, ¡°Why can¡¯t you two give it a rest? They¡¯re going to find us if you keep making so much noise.¡±

    The gunfire had stopped exactly ten minutes before. It wasn¡¯t the police, because it was coming from inside of the building. It was Veronica doing her best to stem the tide of cultists chasing her down ¨C but that was a battle that even she could not win. It was likely that she¡¯d either been killed or captured. I was leaning towards the latter. There was still a mystery to be uncovered with her, and Durandia wouldn¡¯t let a good plot thread go to waste.

    The point was that there was no longer a riotous amount of noise being generated by a dozen guns being fired in our vicinity. It would be easy enough for any passing cultists to hear our voices through the poorly fitted wooden door. These chambers were not exactly finished to a high standard.

    ¡°We really ought to leave this fort before the real fighting starts. It¡¯ll be even more dangerous once the police arrive,¡± I reasoned.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be safer to stay put?¡± Samantha countered, recalling what happened at the theatre and party.

    ¡°Normally I would concur ¨C but the scale of the fighting that is bound to occur will endanger us far more than any prior incident. Hundreds of people are about to play out a battle that this fort was long since constructed for. Bullets will be flying everywhere, and these walls won¡¯t guarantee our safety.¡±

    My Father and the others were likely stressing to the police that there were still hostages inside, but they couldn¡¯t act any more cautiously than they already were. The police would not come armed with explosives and other weapons that caused significant collateral damage.

    The issue was that leaving would not be easy. I didn¡¯t know if the rest of the prisoners had escaped from the fort, but at the least Hoffman no longer had time to recapture them for his ritual. The police were going to make their move sooner rather than later.

    On second thought ¨C perhaps Samantha was right. There was too much foot traffic moving through the fort now that their urgency was increasing. We were going to get caught out again just like Veronica was, and the lack of cover within the hallways meant that it would be almost certain death.

    I nodded, ¡°Hm. On second thought, I agree. It will be safer here.¡±

    Samantha seemed relieved by my acquiescence to her idea. It was an odd reaction, since before she seemed happy to follow whatever order I gave her. There was nothing wrong with her taking a more independent approach to these matters, I didn¡¯t enjoy having to hold other people¡¯s leashes in times of crisis anyway. It was easier to work alone.

    ¡°Thank goodness for that,¡± Claude exhaled.

    ¡°But I still wish we had something more to barricade the door with. It doesn¡¯t look like that will hold them back if they try to get in.¡±

    Samantha tugged on my shoulder, ¡°Then let¡¯s keep quiet and make sure they don¡¯t try.¡± She dragged me towards the only free corner in the room and sat down with her legs crossed, but I was too paranoid to sit down and relax.

    I did not want to sit in this room with them and let Hoffman summon his demon, especially if it meant having Veronica die on me without answering a few more questions about who she was working for. It would be difficult to concoct and acceptable reason to leave the room and go chasing after her.

    Before I could start laying the groundwork for that escape ¨C Samantha whispered to me.

    ¡°I can¡¯t stop thinking about what the Goddess said to us.¡±

    ¡°I try not to focus on it. It makes me second guess everything I do.¡±

    Samantha toyed with the tips of her fingers and remained contemplative. She wanted to say her piece about it, but was not certain if it was a good idea.

    ¡°I suppose she said different words to the both of us,¡± she mused.

    ¡°She did. She wanted to motivate us ¨C and that required exploiting what she knew about our personalities. She played up her divine nature when speaking with you, but took a more honest and cynical approach to me. I don¡¯t know what to think of her. I feel as if neither of those personas were her true face.¡±

    It made me wonder how having knowledge of the future would impact her thinking and behaviour. It was impossible to appear as anything but overly manipulative given that ability ¨C but from her perspective it was a necessary move to keep the world turning the way it was supposed to. She could have just as easily left us in the dark the entire time, but she chose to expose her involvement to us to see her desired outcome.

    This was a being that existed in a realm different to ours, with different standards and practices and precedents. While it was easy to guess that we, as humans, were derived from what they were most familiar with ¨C there was still a gulf that separated us. Did Durandia exist within the Veil, or beyond it? She also seemed to speak of others who had oversight over her actions.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    For example, when she spoke of altering aspects of a living being¡¯s personality it was as if she had to carefully weigh the needs of the situation and the rules they followed against one another. She only changed that element of my existence because they agreed that it was appropriate. It was a terrifying implication. There was someone powerful enough to control even Durandia.

    ¡°Are you hiding something from me?¡± she asked, directly enough to imply so much more.

    ¡°You already know my worst secret. The other one is less than relevant to the situation at hand. It¡¯s more of a personal issue than one you should worry about. To be honest ¨C Durandia did not speak of any events I feel like keeping from you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s... hard to believe.¡±

    Now this was unusual. Samantha was expressing doubt in me? I¡¯d never seen that before. It was a good turn. I wanted to train her to be more sceptical of people like me but could never come up with a good way. It meant that she was ruminating on a matter she wasn¡¯t willing to share. Given the topic of the conversation, she must have thought that I was hiding another key fact from her.

    To the extent that it would help her, I was not. There was little reason for her to know that I was reborn into this body after living a prior life. There was nothing she could do with that information, and it would only lead to more questions that would eat at her until I sat down and answered all of them in detail.

    ¡°Would you like to ask me a question?¡± I replied, cutting to the heart of the matter.

    Samantha opened her mouth but stopped herself and reconsidered. It took her a few seconds to come up with a question that encapsulated the full scope of her worries.

    ¡°Do you enjoy this?¡±

    ¡°Enjoy it?¡±

    ¡°Yes. All of the action, the gunfire ¨C that kind of thing.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°I don¡¯t enjoy it. I¡¯m just good at it.¡±

    There was a brief period of time when I felt some kind of fulfilment over my life as a hired killer, but it did not last for long. For every moment where my righteous fury took the life of a monster, there were three more where disproportionate violence was levied against people because of personal rivalries. When a lot of money was on the line people were willing to go to extreme lengths, and I was the one who enabled them.

    Being an assassin was not a job to be enjoyed. It was a prison of my own making. I was good for nothing but that and that alone. To stop would be to crush myself beneath the myriad economic pressures that all regular adults dealt with. I couldn¡¯t stop. I turned it into a routine. I¡¯d wake up and think about killing someone, and then I would go and do it.

    No amount of compartmentalisation could make that fun, and I didn¡¯t want it to be in the end. That would be an even darker path to tread. Lives could never be taken for granted. I was not willing to turn myself into someone like Hoffman or his friends.

    ¡°Is that all you wanted to ask?¡±

    Samantha frowned. No, she had a lot more questions.

    ¡°That¡¯s all I wanted to hear.¡±

    I could see the unease on her face ¨C but she did not press the subject further.

    It was just as well that she did because there was someone trying to get through the door. The combination of the interior lock and the furniture in the way kept them from bursting through and catching us out. There was a moment of panic amongst the party. Max leapt to his feet and quickly came up with a way to negotiate a solution.

    ¡°Who is it?¡±

    The rattling stopped, ¡°It¡¯s Feldstein. Are you hiding in there, Max?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Everyone started shooting so I ducked into here. What¡¯s going on?¡±

    He waved us over to the blind spot of the door. The cabinet was pulled aside and the door unlocked so that Feldstein could peer through the gap. The only person he saw was Max.

    ¡°Is the fighting over?¡± Max asked again.

    ¡°It is on the inside of the fort,¡± he explained, ¡°But Hoffman is worried about the police launching their attack within the next hour. I heard you rummaging around in there and thought it was a spy or something.¡±

    ¡°Like that woman.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Hoffman¡¯s got control of the situation again now. It should be safe to come out.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Let me grab my jacket.¡±

    Max pushed the door closed and ran over to the desk, taking his coat from the back of the chair and moving back before Feldstein got curious and poked his head inside. It was a ballsy gambit to say the least ¨C but Max had successfully socially engineered his way out of the dilemma by appearing confident and giving him a good excuse.

    At least, that was what I thought before he reached out and grabbed Max by the front of his shirt ¨C dragging him into the hallway and accidentally pushing the door open more as a consequence. The tone of the discussion took a sudden turn that chilled him to the bone.

    ¡°I¡¯m disappointed in you, Max. Our brothers and sisters are fighting and dying in these halls, yet you hide and protect only yourself!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no good at fighting!¡± Max pleaded.

    ¡°That is irrelevant. We must all do our bit to help the cause, and that includes risking our lives and taking on responsibilities we may not be comfortable with. This is your opportunity to demonstrate your value to Hoffman. Do not waste it!¡±

    ¡°Hoffman only wants me for our family¡¯s money! I bet he¡¯d tell you the same thing!¡±

    ¡°You have too little faith in him. He is the singular man who sees the value in all of us.¡±

    Their value as meat shields, perhaps.

    This was bad. They were making a lot of noise and potentially attracting more attention. I did not want one of our number to become separated from the group and held under duress, or even worse, forced into fighting against the police and potentially being killed in the process. I didn¡¯t want to show my hand so soon. There was no getting around it now.

    Samantha tried to stop me but her hands met nothing but open air. I leapt through the door and approached Feldstein from behind as he interrogated Max about his loyalty to the Scuncath cause. I quickly wrapped one arm around his neck and kicked at the back of his knee.

    He was too busy threatening Max to put up an effective defence. He buckled under the pressure and he stumbled down onto the floor in a kneeling position. With control over his range of movement, I pulled back even harder and forced his torso back onto the floor in a painful contortion. The last thing he saw was the sole of my boot coming down across his forehead, and a follow-up kick striking him in the nose with such force that his body swivelled on the floor like a turnstile.

    The muddied footprint on his head and the broken nose made him look like he¡¯d been in a drunken brawl. It wasn¡¯t far from the truth. Everyone was staring at me. Max was pressed up against the wall, more fearful now of me than the man who was assaulting him mere seconds ago.

    ¡°Maria, what the...¡±

    The sound of footsteps were approaching from the other end of the hallway. I reached out and pulled on Max¡¯s arm until we fell back into the room. Gunshots followed, nipping at our heels.

    ¡°They must have heard your argument.¡±

    ¡°Hold on a second, what was that all about?¡± Max replied.

    I had no time to offer him answers; ¡°If you found that distasteful - I strongly suggest that you avert your gaze.¡±

    I unbuttoned my coat and drew my pistol before they reached the location of the fight. Using the doorway as cover was my best bet. They would easily take me out if I tried to move to the junction behind us, but having an escape route would make me a much happier girl.

    The sudden onset of violence froze their feet in place. They stood and watched while I peeked around the corner of the doorway and got a grasp on how many interlopers were trying to murder us. Three armed men had followed the sound of the scuffle and located us. I stepped out and took aim, firing two shots. The first man, who was charging blindly down the hallway with a shotgun in his arms, fell to the floor dead.

    I focused on the task at hand and cast the issue of my identity to the back of the queue for later. My biggest worry at that moment was how many other cultists heard the gunfire. If they were worried about the police launching their assault, most of them should have been outside manning the walls. Veronica¡¯s bombs made that a risky proposition.

    The other two gunmen demonstrated their lack of formal training, charging down the corridor and attempting to overwhelm me with suppressing fire. Samantha and the others squealed as shrapnel ripped one side of the doorframe to pieces and threatened to send small pieces of metal flying through the air. I simply stepped back and narrowed the angle from which they could see me and shoot.

    As soon as the first body came into view I fired again. He went flying back onto the ground, the bullet hitting him square in the chest. The other attacker swung around and tried to catch me before I could adjust for the recoil of the shot, but that was an amateur-hour strategy that wouldn¡¯t take an experienced fighter off-guard. I was already prepared for him as he stepped around the corner.

    I pulled the trigger twice, sending the cultist back and onto the floor with a pair of smoking, bleeding holes in the thick coat he wore. My gallery of observers jumped into the air at the sound of the gun¡¯s crack, but then the reality of what they had just witnessed started to settle in. That cold, creeping dread when one witnessed a killing right in front of them.

    I moved closer to the bodies and made extra sure that they were both dead. The one in the hallway was still alive, groaning and gurgling as his own blood started to choke the life out of him. He didn¡¯t have the power to move his prone body any closer, so I did not waste another bullet on mercy killing him.

    When I finally dedicated my energy to observing the gallery of reactions from the others, it was about what I expected. Wide-eyed, mouths held open by invisible hands. Samantha was the only one who had prepared herself for what just happened, but it was also the first time that she enjoyed a clear-headed view of what this violence looked like.

    ¡°Y-You killed them!¡± Max squawked, ¡°You really killed them!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve gotta¡¯ be kidding me! I was right the entire time?¡± Claude added.

    I sighed but added nothing. For them, it must have seemed like an earth-shattering discovery. Adrian and Claude, who were much more aware than Max, had recontextualized everything they knew about me and the events that I was involved with.

    ¡°A real-life Sturml?ufer, right in front of my eyes!¡±

    That got my ire, ¡°No. They aren¡¯t real, for goodness sake.¡±

    Claude scoffed, ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes, really.¡±

    Adrian stepped in, ¡°She was always talented with a gun. She won every competition she decided to enter. I never imagined that you¡¯d use those skills to... take the life of another.¡±

    ¡°It is not a choice I make lightly. We can ruminate over this later. I fear that our spat will attract more cultists to this room.¡±

    They were caught between their perception of me and the reality of what they had witnessed. I was cold, confident and had a glare that could kill ¨C but that did not mean that I was easily swayed into violence. How much credulity would they apply to this situation?

    Adrian stared at one of the bodies, and the gun still held between his fingers. He slipped around my side and knelt next to him, reaching out to take it for himself. I stopped him with a firm word.

    ¡°No.¡±

    He persisted, ¡°I can¡¯t stand here and let you do this on your own! They kidnapped me, and now they¡¯re trying to kill us! Let me take one of those guns and help!¡±

    I turned on my heel and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him back up to his feet and backing him towards the wall.

    ¡°I¡¯m only going to say this once.¡±

    A chill ran through the room and all of their eyes locked to me.

    ¡°Living without having to kill is a privilege. Do not be so eager to give that up.¡±

    They had seen me irritated, bored, dismissive and mean-spirited ¨C but what really got their attention was the simple fact that this was the first time they¡¯d ever seen me become angry with another person. It was more revealing than I intended it to be. Adrian knew that he touched a nerve.

    ¡°So, what do you want us to do?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to go back to my escape route. You are going to keep a tight hold of that book and make sure that the cultists don¡¯t get it back. I¡¯ll make a stop by the throne room to see what that mysterious stranger is doing.¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°Mysterious?¡±

    ¡°I was being sarcastic.¡±

    Claude grabbed the book and clutched it close to his chest. There was no further room for debate. We had to move before they came searching for us. The bodies would obviously alert anyone who stumbled across them, and I wasn¡¯t going to waste time dragging them into the room when they¡¯d already bled across the floor.

    The others were very careful not to stare, or to touch, dancing around them and keeping their eyes forward. My problem was now finding a path through the building that didn¡¯t run us into another group of guards. Easier said than done.

    I could have done with a little of that blind faith of theirs.

 Chapter 100

    With some smart timing, I managed to escort the group to my exfiltration point in the storehouse. It was not good for my heart to be shifting a large group of people through a building that was being patrolled this heavily, but I managed somehow. We reached the exit route entirely untouched without anyone catching a glimpse of us on the way.

    After a quick sweep of the area to make sure that none of Veronica¡¯s time bombs were planted inside, I decided to delegate some responsibility to Samantha and her newly acquired crisis management skills. There was still another matter for me to attend to before I left.

    ¡°Okay ¨C you should be safe to stop here for a moment while I go and check the throne room again.¡±

    ¡°Wait a second. You want us to stay here while you go running looking for that woman?¡± Claude said, ¡°It¡¯s suicide!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the only one who is armed and prepared to fight back. It will be easier for me and safer for you to remain in this storeroom for the time being. Once I return, we can escape using the trench and hopefully avoid being caught in the crossfire.¡±

    With that said, I was not certain if this was the right move. They would have men manning the walls and watching for the police advance. It was possible that they would fire on us if they saw us sneaking through the trench line to try and escape.

    ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± Samantha asked.

    ¡°I want you to keep an eye on everyone. I don¡¯t feel that the time is right for us to move yet. It won¡¯t take me long. We already have the book. All we need to do is keep it away from those cultists.¡±

    Claude was still holding onto it, though he was once again teetering on the edge of opening it up and trying to comprehend the information that was inside. His objection to my solo mission gave way easily once he recalled what he¡¯d seen just moments before. Was he honestly going to argue with the girl who killed three men without breaking a sweat?

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel safe letting you go out there alone.¡±

    ¡°They have guns. Unless you¡¯re willing to stain your hands with blood, you won¡¯t be able to help.¡±

    ¡°What about my magic? I blasted one of them when they burned down our barn.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°And how many times can you use a bolt before you run out of energy? Five, six? The reason armies have moved towards utilising guns is that they do not suffer from such limitations. They can continue to attack from long range so long as they have the ammo to fire, and producing bullets is easier than waiting for your magical energy to recharge.¡±

    ¡°But you...¡±

    ¡°I taught you how to defend yourself in an emergency. Not how to kill.¡±

    ¡°Were you afraid that I would?¡±

    I stepped back, ¡°The opposite. You would never have use for it.¡±

    I had to go. There was no time to waste debating this any further. I ran through the door and left them behind before she could protest. If I didn¡¯t make it to the chamber before Hoffman launched the ceremony, there was a chance that Veronica could be amongst the dead ¨C and any answers about her real identity, and my birth, would go along with her.

    Each delay frustrated me further. There were guards everywhere now that they¡¯d learnt what Veronica was trying to do with the explosives. They still weren¡¯t the most aware, but having to peer around every corner and wait for them to avert their eyes was a problem I¡¯d rather not have dealt with.

    Security was lighter closer to the throne room. If Hoffman was replacing the sacrifices with members of the cult, they would have gravitated towards taking the people closest to the room where the ceremony was being held. That, or the Scuncath weren¡¯t as eager to meet their otherworldly messiah as they let on.

    After evading one last pair of armed guards, I reached the door to the throne room. I swapped my magazine out for a full one and approached the door, holding my breath and trying to make as little noise as possible. The door was ajar. I could hear Hoffman speaking from the inside.

    I was just in time for the party.

    Through the crack in the door, I could see what was going on inside. Exactly as I expected, Veronica and Genta had been captured by Hoffman once the reinforcements arrived. The only positive of this situation was that Hoffman wanted to use her as a sacrifice because of how potent it would be.

    Hoffman pulled Veronica towards her spot at the north end of the summoning circle and held her there. His other hand held an ornate dagger, which he was planning to use to spill her blood into the channels and complete the bloody outline. The other cultists I¡¯d seen moments before had already shuffled their way to the other sacrifice marks. They were going to kill themselves.

    Veronica, for whatever reason, did not resist and stood there with a patient smile. Did she have a plan in mind, or was she waiting for me to swoop in and save the day? Whatever she was thinking of, I couldn¡¯t sit back and assume she had a way out. Her hands were bound behind her back.

    Happy that she wasn¡¯t going to move ¨C Hoffman stepped around her and climbed halfway up the dais¡¯ stairs to get a bird¡¯s eye view of the ceremony. He must have memorized the words needed before the book was stolen.

    Two armed guards were standing on both sides of the room. I would need to kill both of them before trying to stop Hoffman from completing the ceremony. I only had one chance at this, and that meant waiting until the time was right. A simple lapse in concentration from one or both of them would be my opening.

    ¡°Hear me! Hear me! The blood of our physical bodies will be subsumed!¡±

    The sacrifices joined him in turn, ¡°The blood of our physical bodies will be subsumed...¡±

    ¡°In the name of Cath! At the direction of the Goddess, we offer thee this sacrifice! Siat Horrcath, smar aleg hotor!¡±

    He really did remember the chants from the book. That was Old Walserian. It sounded like a bunch of god-damn nonsense to my ears.

    ¡°Take our anger, take our suffering ¨C feast upon it until you grow fat with avarice, and come forth to us through the Veil! Unleash your great fury without restraint. Unchain thyself from the ties that bind you ¨C and manifest here before us. The brain sees lies, the heart feels truth.¡±

    ¡°The brain sees lies; the heart feels truth!¡±

    He raised his dagger into the air, and in that moment all eyes were placed on him.

    I pushed my way through the door and struck. The sacrifice standing directly in front of me became a convenient human shield. I shot the first guard to the left and killed them, tucking behind the cultist before the second could react. When he finally drew his weapon and fired back, he only struck his compatriot in the chest.

    I stepped out and blew him away with a volley of return fire. Hoffman turned to face the source of the commotion, only to receive a pair of bullets. One to the stomach, and the other to his chest - close to the heart. He looked down at his own body and shivered as blood seeped through his shirt. His palms reached up and pressed down on the wounds to try and stop the bleeding out of instinct, but he gave up.

    ¡°I understand now,¡± he croaked, ¡°Stand firm! Stay... right there.¡±

    The cultists remained in place. Hoffman walked down the steps and pushed his way past Veronica. He kept walking with wild eyes and a belligerent grin. The last of his strength was being used up to reach a particular point in the room. He stumbled and fell to his knees, crawling on them until he took Veronica¡¯s place in the circle.

    ¡°Take it. All of my sorrow, and my hope for tomorrow¡­¡±

    Just like that, the leader of the cult was felled. His body crumpled down to the floor.

    I had made a significant miscalculation.

    The rest of the cultists did not wait. They plunged their daggers directly into their hearts and got down onto their knees to help the blood flow into the channels of the summoning circle. Hoffman was the missing piece ¨C and I¡¯d just blown his brains out right on top of the last perimeter ward. An unnatural force drew the blood directly from the open wounds, spreading across the carved channels at a speed that defied reason. There was an unearthly howl what little warmth remained in the air disappeared like the flip of a switch.

    Hoffman used himself as the last sacrifice ¨C and he believed that it was his ultimate fate to do so.

    Genta hurried to Veronica¡¯s side and untied her restraints. He spoke from the side of his mouth in a blind panic; ¡°I suggest that we leave, immediately!¡±

    ¡°What about the Horrcath? How do we kill it?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t!¡± Genta replied, ¡°The only thing we can do now is survive!¡±

    Veronica took Genta by the collar of his coat and dragged him towards the rear exit as the entire room started to shake. A powerful gust of wind threatened to knock me from my feet, pushing me back against the main doors. The bodies twitched in a vein mockery of life, before being moved towards the centre of the circle and forming a grotesque pile.

    What happened next was difficult to describe with words.

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    The circle opened. What lay beyond the stone floor of the chamber was nothing, simply nothing ¨C an inescapable black void from which no light could escape, nor could it enter. My mind recognized that there was a space beyond - simply through perspective, but there was no way for me to peer any deeper than that.

    The bodies sunk into the void, and then a gigantic, off-white hand clutched the edge of the portal. I stepped back and towards the door, but found myself unable to escape the dreadful sight playing out before me. Whereas the previous demon was a disgusting amalgam of human bodies, morphed into the costume for a hellhound, this Horr existed on a different level of strange.

    The oily, white skin was interrupted with vivid veins of sparkling gold, which spread outwards like branches. It had an elongated torso with double-jointed arms, ending in four-fingered claws that were the size of my full body. It was a profoundly bizarre creature in form and function.

    A single yellow eye peered from a canine skull, along with a maw filled with hundreds of teeth and a tongue dripping with golden saliva. In fact ¨C every pore of the creature seemed to ooze with the substance, though I was not foolhardy enough to get any closer and confirm what it really was. The steam that rose from it suggested that it was scalding to the touch.

    It was a very different beast from the one they summoned on the train. Unrestrained by what was practical or even physically possible, this lumbering monster was the very definition of the word irrational. It should have collapsed under its own weight, or struggled to breathe outside of its home in the Veil ¨C yet here it was.

    I turned and ran. There was no time to worry about being spotted now. I wanted to be as far away from that beast as humanly possible before it started to rampage through the fort. My pathetically sized handgun wasn¡¯t going to put a scratch in it if our prior experience with the Horrcath was anything to go by.

    I was only just on the precipice of the first junction before it finally moved.

    If describing its appearance was a challenge, then trying to explain what the hell happened next was even worse. One second the building to my right was there and intact, and the next it was not.

    The force of the turbulence caused by that single movement threw me into the air like a discarded piece of trash. A second later, the entire building dismantled itself right in front of my eyes. Stones and timber flew in the direction of its attack, falling back down to the ground and kicking up an obscuring cloud of dirt and dust. I could faintly see the Horrcath through the chaos, and it was only by that did I realize that it had simply moved from one place to another at such a velocity that it tore the fort to pieces like a passing hurricane.

    This was far worse than I anticipated.

    Despite the size of the Horrcath, it was so fast that it was essentially imperceptible to the human eye. The mere act of moving from its summoning location was analogous to the detonation of a bomber¡¯s payload, ripping the foundations of the fort from the ground it stood on.

    Vigilantly it waited amongst the ruin. This was the devastation that the Scuncath had sought. This was Hoffman¡¯s final and most terrible gift to the world, his revenge for all the suffering it had levied unto him across decades of his life. There was a profane beauty to the way it perched atop that pile of rubble, with its head held high and its claws ready to lash out.

    The cries of panic pierced the momentary silence after the explosion. Suddenly, the very same cultists who conspired to summon the damnable creature tried to fight it off by firing their weapons. I picked myself up from the ground and snuck over to the other side of the former corridor so I could observe.

    What I saw was even more terrifying. Three men took aim and fired with their rifles, the shots bouncing harmlessly from the creature¡¯s body. The creature did not retaliate with those menacing claws. It didn¡¯t even move. A few seconds after they attacked, all three men began to scream.

    That same molten gold that leaked from its pores and mouth was somehow being generated from within their bodies. They cried tears of the viscous, scalding metal, scratching at their own skin and leaving bloody nail marks in their wake. They fell to the floor and writhed in agony before quickly passing out and dying on the spot.

    It defied all reasoning. How had the creature fought back without touching them, or without manipulating the base elements? There was no reasonable path to transform magical energy into something like gold. A process that complex and multi-faceted was more the realm of industrial production, demanding the efforts of hundreds of mages working day and night.

    This was a display of a strength more foreboding than the physical. It was sheer, undiluted magical power, the kind that allowed the creature to effortlessly evade the laws and rules that dictated my own usage of the art. Thinking back to what Genta said while he fled the throne room, and the devastation it unleashed with a single movement of its body, I was struck with a more pertinent question.

    How in hell was I supposed to run away from this thing?

    <hr>

    Samantha, Max, Adrian and Claude were left to stew in silence about what they had just witnessed. Maria ¨C the school¡¯s most popular and respected student, knocked a fully grown man out cold with her bare hands and then killed two more with a pistol. Even for Adrian, who was used to seeing the doll-like girl with a gun in her hands, it was an immense shock.

    Claude was busy scribbling down his last will and testament onto the blank back page of the book he was tasked with defending.

    ¡°What are you writing in there?¡± Max whispered.

    ¡°Since Maria is a Sturml?ufer and we know her true identity, it¡¯s only a matter of time before she kills us so that we don¡¯t leak the truth to anyone else. I¡¯m putting it down in writing so that the police can find it later.¡±

    Max peered over his shoulder at the pencilled ramblings of his best friend. True to form, they were long-winded and eloquently worded ¨C dancing around the central point as if to build some kind of dramatic tension for the reader. Eventually, the note did launch into an explanation that Maria Walston-Carter was some sort of trained killer, and that the ¡®author¡¯ had been killed to keep that information secret.

    Max thought it was immensely stupid of him. She was going to a hell of a lot of effort to keep them alive already, so why would she then pick them off later? She could have left them in the fort and let the cultists take care of it if that was her real objective. He rolled his eyes and said nothing. Claude carried that pencil with him at all times for a reason, and there was no reason to spoil his fun now.

    Adrian sighed, ¡°I doubt that they¡¯ll believe whatever you write in there.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Claude replied while keeping his nose down and eyes focused.

    ¡°They¡¯re not going to arrest her or convict her of anything without physical evidence. Do you have any idea how hard it is for the police to arrest a noble, or even get permission to look at their residences or places of business? They all have friends in high places, like parliament.¡±

    ¡°And you say that like you aren¡¯t a noble yourself.¡±

    Adrian shook his head, ¡°I don¡¯t have any friends, and I¡¯m not much interested in playing the influence game like my Father did.¡±

    Even so ¨C the bar was higher than it was with a normal person. The impression that the police might start cracking down on affluent criminals was enough to send most nobles into a spiral of paranoia, which was telling in itself.

    The evidence problem was the biggest barrier. Adrian reconsidered the previous three incidents that he was aware of. The death of Prier on the campus, the shootout at the party, and the second shootout at the theatre. Maria was present for all three of them and conspicuous in her absence at the same time. It was too convenient to be a coincidence.

    Prier¡¯s death was the most puzzling. Adrian was only faintly aware of the details, and the police kept most of them under wraps to preserve their investigation. There were no witnesses at the time, and nobody even reported hearing the gunshot that took his life. The biggest question was why. Why did Maria supposedly kill Trevor Prier? As far as he knew, Trevor was only a teacher at their academy.

    He turned his scrutiny onto the person in the room who was closest to her. Samantha¡¯s burgeoning friendship with Maria was the talk of the campus, primarily from disbelieving snobs who couldn¡¯t imagine why Maria found Samantha¡¯s company more palatable than theirs. It didn¡¯t take a scientist to figure out that they became closer after the theatre shooting. The theatre shooting where Samantha, Claude and Max were caught up and taken by the gunmen.

    If Maria intervened then and there to help Samantha...

    Samantha could feel his gaze boring into her. She tensed up when he asked his question.

    ¡°When Claude was shot at the theatre, was Maria there?¡±

    Claude replied instead, ¡°No. I never saw her.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It wasn¡¯t her who shot me if that¡¯s what you¡¯re getting at.¡±

    ¡°No. I was wondering if she showed up and helped fend them off.¡±

    ¡°Nope. That guy shot me in the pelvis and left me for dead. I only came to after Samantha showed up and patched me up.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see her either,¡± Max revealed.

    That left only one person who was there. Samantha was starting to feel as if Adrian was accusing her of a great misdeed, but it was only an itty-bitty lie by omission about their classmate being extremely dangerous and willing to kill.

    ¡°Why is everyone looking at me like that?¡± Samantha whispered.

    ¡°You knew the whole time, didn¡¯t you?¡± Max observed, getting to the point before Adrian could throw his accusation into the ring.

    Samantha was a lousy liar ¨C and they all knew it. The moment she was cornered by an accurate statement, she started to turn bright red and lose her composure. She held up her finger and tried to come up with a convincing response, but no amount of damage control could fix it now.

    ¡°Not... the whole time.¡±

    Max, Claude and Adrian were not impressed with the admission.

    ¡°I promised her not to tell everyone! I only found out when she rescued me at the theatre. Don¡¯t act like you wouldn¡¯t do the same thing in that situation. I didn¡¯t have much of a choice!¡±

    The debate came to a sudden end ¨C because the trap door that led down onto the ground floor and the trench entry was rattling. Claude cried out in fear and dived out of the way. His effort was for nought. The head that peered through was not that of one of the cultists, it was Damian Walston-Carter.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re all here!¡±

    ¡°Mister Carter?¡± Adrian said, momentarily putting her interrogation on hold, ¡°What are you doing here? I thought you were escaping with the others.¡±

    Damian crawled up the ladder and left the hatch open behind him, ¡°I can hardly run away when my beloved daughter is still in the grip of this madness! No sir, I will not turn my back and leave her here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that we got separated.¡±

    Damian stroked his chin, ¡°I see. So, she¡¯s gone off and disappeared again? I swear, raising that girl has knocked at least five years from my life through stress alone. There¡¯s no need to worry about the others. They all made their way to the road without being seen. It appears that the cultists are not able to stop us once we leave.¡±

    Claude slammed the book closed so that he couldn¡¯t see what he¡¯d written on the back cover. It was a mystery as to how much Damian knew about his own daughter and her recent actions. Bringing it up now didn¡¯t feel like the right time. He had enough to worry about as it was.

    ¡°This is way too dangerous for us,¡± Max reasoned, ¡°Maria said that she wanted to meet us here and that we should wait for her. If we leave, she might have to stick around for even longer.¡±

    Damian nodded, ¡°Then please, by all means, feel free to leave and protect yourselves. I¡¯m only doing this for my own sake. I wouldn¡¯t be able to live with myself if I left her here in their clutches. And she has to tell me how she got here in the first place, for that matter.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose it has anything to do with that woman who looks a lot like her?¡±

    Damian sighed, ¡°That¡¯s almost a certainty. There¡¯s no doubt in my mind that Maria inherited her incredible ability to find the worst kinds of trouble.¡±

    Samantha moved towards the door, ¡°So it is her Mother? Maria always said that she¡¯d never so much as seen a painting of her, and I didn¡¯t spot any during my stay at the house either.¡±

    ¡°Well ¨C the full story is rather complicated and very personal. We hardly have the time to begin discussing it.¡±

    ¡°Ah. It¡¯s rude of me to ask such an invasive question. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I understand. You know, I have to thank you for being Maria¡¯s friend.¡±

    ¡°You do?¡±

    ¡°That girl ¨C she was always so withdrawn when she was younger. Wouldn¡¯t say any more than one or two words in response to me or the servants. When she was ten she opened up, but she really changed for the better when she started attending the academy and met you. You¡¯re the only person she talks about.¡±

    Despite the craziness that was happening around them, it was that which gave Samantha reason to pause. It was news to her. Maria was very selective about the information and feelings she shared. It was a combination of fearing others'' reactions, and a belief that those truths would endanger her ¨C but to learn that Maria did care about her in some small way made her reevaluate what she¡¯d experienced.

    ¡°Now, we have to hurry and find her before they do-¡±

    But at that exact moment ¨C the Horrcath moved.

 Chapter 101

    It took a moment for me to collect myself after the shockwave.

    My ears were ringing, my vision was blurred, and my entire body ached after being thrown through the wringer by the Horr. The fighting continued. The men and women who came here in the hopes of finding salvation by its hand were now trying fruitlessly to fend it off with their guns.

    Every time one of them was unlucky enough to attract its attention ¨C they soon discovered why it was a bad idea. I had seen a lot of screwed-up ways to go in my life, but this was something special. The Horrcath was boiling them from the inside out, summoning molten gold into their bodies and allowing it to seep through their orifices. Each death was accompanied by a harrowing wail.

    A part of me wanted to stop them before they made that fatal mistake, yet I couldn¡¯t imagine a more appropriately ironic way for them to go. Here it was! The saviour they longed for so strongly, the one they shed blood for. It wasn¡¯t pretty or what they had in mind. They rejected it and tried to kill it, and in turn, it was killing them.

    I nicknamed it the Alchemist ¨C because of its ability to generate gold out of thin air.

    I snapped out of my reverie and tried to focus on what was important. It hadn¡¯t busted through the side of the fort where Samantha and the others were, and for the time being, it was content to sit in the first courtyard and soak up all of the bullets being fired in its direction.

    Veronica and Genta could take care of themselves from here too. My best option was to dart away from the semi-collapsed wall I was peering over and make a run for the trenches with the others. Claude had the book. All of the pieces were in place to make this a perfect victory for me.

    Now that wouldn¡¯t make for a dramatic ending to the story. It wasn¡¯t going to last. I could feel it in my bones, or maybe that was the blunt force trauma again.

    I was faced with a difficult choice. There was no realistic way to kill the thing, nor was there any effective place to shelter given the incredible destructive power it demonstrated simply by moving from one place to the next. It could easily blow away the very hill that the fort stood atop like a house made from straw.

    Were my only options to run away or hide?

    No. I thought it through again, about what I knew. Genta and Veronica were in the throne room alone. There was no way that Veronica passed up the chance to sabotage the summoning circle while they had that opportunity. That small window was what she was fishing for.

    Summoning circles were contracts. Genta was adamant that there was no ¡®good¡¯ way to control a Horr ¨C the circle was as good as it got. They were fiendishly complicated with hundreds of known symbols that all had different meanings, and none of them were truly understood or codified, even in his family¡¯s book. Trial and error had cost the lives of many men who sought to exploit the Veil¡¯s power.

    Genta was being hyperbolic when he said there was no way to control them. You could, but you didn¡¯t get more than one chance to try, and Durandia only knew how they¡¯d react once they were through the gate. You would need to be able to see the future to get anywhere. That was possible, but I couldn¡¯t imagine them giving out that sort of power to anyone who asked.

    But even if one could control this creature, were they capable of managing the damage it caused? Even asking it to move its body was enough to rip walls from their foundations and send a gust strong enough to throw people from their feet. Under these circumstances what good would ¡®control¡¯ really do?

    Regardless of what I thought, Genta was the one who knew the most about how the summoning circles worked. He must have taken the chance to sabotage it, and then Veronica did her best to pile on the pressure by implying that the police were on their way. They wouldn¡¯t have time to double-check it or correct the mistake.

    All of my rumination was ultimately pointless.

    The Alchemist continued to slaughter everyone who attacked it en masse using its incredible magical power. Until it stopped. The carnage came to a sudden and uneventful conclusion. The beast was struck still by an unseen force, and moments later its body started to deteriorate right in front of my eyes. Skin, muscle and bone lost their structure and fell into nothing.

    That same power which it wielded like a crude weapon was now cut off and it could no longer exist in a world commanded by our physical laws. The Alchemist was quite literally falling to pieces as the reality of the body it inhabited caught up with it. The rate of decay was frightening and unnatural in its own right ¨C almost as if I were witnessing a recording that was being fast-forwarded.

    And then it was gone.

    An eerie silence settled over the fort. The cries of the birds and the crackle of gunfire ceased. The carnage was sobering. Half of the fort had been demolished. The fires started by Veronica were burning out of control and consuming the inner walls. Dead bodies, covered in magically generated gold, littered the open yard. The smoke rose into the air and cast a long shadow over the fortress.

    The Alchemist was only in our world for two minutes, and this was what it could do in that short period. I was left to wonder what would have happened had Hoffman succeeded in summoning his original target using the nobles, and how much longer it would have been in Walser had Genta not modified the circle.

    One thing was for sure ¨C Genta deserved credit for saving lives.

    He changed how long it would be on the other side. It must have been the most effective way to limit the damage it caused without potentially running into other problems. In a basic way, it was the only level of control that the summoner had over the Horrcath, they were not receptive to spoken orders as far as I knew.

    I wasn¡¯t going to try and find out either.

    I took a moment to sit there and comprehend the scale of the damage. We were lucky that the hostages weren¡¯t killed and used to summon a Horr even stronger than that. It could have wiped out half of the country with sheer magical strength if all of the conditions were perfect.

    Now more than ever I was convinced that the book needed to be kept away from the cultists and Veronica. Genta was the only one who seemed to worry about how destructive the information inside could be. It was the reason why he handed it over to the University and allowed them to keep it in a place he felt was safe. That responsibility must have eaten at him, being the only man in the room who believed that the demons were not merely tools to be trifled with.

    Ambitious and desperate people were going to want the book. This was not a disaster, it was a prime example of what kind of destructive force the Horr could bring from beyond the Veil. They didn¡¯t care about the potential disaster they were unleashing, they could justify it as a national security project.

    And who was in charge of Walser¡¯s national security these days?

    WISA; they sent Veronica to collar Genta Cambry before the cultists got to him, but the discovery that the book was still out there brought her to the fort so that she could recover it. The only prize bigger than a morally composed expert in a particularly hazardous field was an amoral book that contained all of his knowledge and wouldn¡¯t protest when they tried to utilise it as a weapon.

    I clutched my ribs and tried not to groan in pain. The damn beast sent me flying across the hallway just from the air it disturbed, sending me rolling across the floor and into the nearest wall. That felt bad. Not painful enough to be a broken rib, but it would leave a nasty bruise given a few hours to linger.

    All of that aggression building had dissipated into an overwhelming sense of despair. I could hear voices behind the screen of smoke, some were crying, others roaring in anguish. They weren¡¯t in the right space mentally to fight off a police siege now. There was very little left for them to assault anyway.

    I honestly couldn¡¯t believe how quickly it came and went. It was surreal. I was living through a fever dream. The threads were not connected, and cause and effect were becoming difficult to establish. It arrived, destroyed most of the fort, and then killed a majority of the cultists that were hiding inside.

    ¡°Maria! Are you out here? Maria!¡±

    I ducked behind a broken wall as someone¡¯s voice called out for me through the mayhem. What a stupid idea! There were still armed cultists waiting in the wings, and they wouldn¡¯t let an apocalyptic event stop them from shooting at anything that moved.

    ¡°Hey, are you sure it¡¯s okay to shout? They could still be hiding out here!¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no way. Look at this mess!¡±

    ¡°Speaking of which ¨C what caused this? My ears are still ringing from the blast.¡±

    I caught on to who I was listening to. It was Claude and Max having one of their usual arguments at an inappropriate time. Even worse, the entire gang was here. Samantha, Adrian and my own Father included. He must have stayed back rather than escape with the others out of concern for my safety.

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    What a fool. He was weak from being kept in confinement for days without proper food or water. It would be impossible to escape if the situation were to turn against us now. I considered my options. Claude was still holding the book, so all I needed to do was meet them and hightail it to the exit before the police came knocking and the fighting started all over again.

    At least, that was the plan until Genta and Veronica crested a pile of rubble and attracted their attention. They were none the worse for wear, which was impressive given that they were in the line of fire when the Horrcath moved. I was nowhere near it and it still blew me into the nearest wall with serious force.

    ¡°Oh my, what do we have here? A group of civilians who haven¡¯t fled the scene yet?¡±

    ¡°You were the one who grabbed Hoffman earlier,¡± Adrian replied, ¡°What do you want with us?¡±

    She looked between the different members of the party ¨C her eyes resting on Damian for some time before moving on.

    ¡°As you might know, I was sent here to disrupt the Scuncath¡¯s operation. This gentleman beside me is Genta Cambry. You might recognize the name.¡±

    Claude turned the book around in his hands and double-checked the cover. Indeed, three separate members of the Cambry family had their names engraved into the red leather.

    ¡°He¡¯s here to retrieve that book ¨C which the Scuncath decided to steal from the University. We would be in your debt, should you choose to return it to the rightful owner. I will escort you from this horrible place, and the nightmare will be over.¡±

    Claude clutched it tight and showed no signs of budging to her demands.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about this,¡± Claude murmured, ¡°It sounds too convenient to be true. Why the heck would the guy who wrote this be here, of all places?¡±

    Genta adjusted his glasses, ¡°Ah. I can assure you that I am indeed the real Genta Cambry! With that said ¨C there are seldom few ways for me to prove that at the moment...¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t trust it,¡± Adrian concurred.

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯d be better for us to get back to the police first before letting go of this book. How are we supposed to know that this isn¡¯t another dirty trick? You two might be members of the cult!¡±

    Veronica rolled her eyes; ¡°Members? I was holding their leader at gunpoint an hour ago! For what possible reason could he have organized such a convoluted plan? To lose the book on purpose, have me scupper his scheme, and then fool you into giving back what he already had possession of.¡±

    ¡°Who the hell am I to say that his plans are rational?¡± Claude fired back.

    ¡°He¡¯s right. You couldn¡¯t sound more suspicious if you tried,¡± Samantha agreed.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it the most logical outcome that the book¡¯s owner is the one who walks away with it?¡± Veronica pondered, ¡°Give it to us, and we¡¯ll take care of everything.¡±

    Everyone was acutely aware of the damage that had been wrought, and it was obvious that the book they held was part of the reason why. Handing it over to a total stranger without any more information was foolish. Veronica sighed and held out her arms, intentionally revealing the holstered gun strapped to her left side.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a fight worth picking. You¡¯ve all survived what happened here, why would you choose to throw that away?¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°Someone who uses violent methods like you only understands one thing. I don¡¯t expect compassion, which is why giving up that book is the worst possible idea. If you want it - you can wait until we get to the police line and our safety is guaranteed.¡±

    I wonder who taught her that.

    Veronica pinched her nose, ¡°Now that would be very inconvenient for me. Don¡¯t you have a compassionate bone in your body?¡±

    ¡°Compassion has nothing to do with it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. It does not.¡±

    Veronica was tired of the games. She drew her pistol and made them acutely aware of how easily she could blow them away with a single pull of the trigger. She let the implication hang, unspoken, for several seconds ¨C but nobody was convinced to move. This was too much pressure for them to handle. It was time to play my last card.

    I stepped through the swirling dust and made my presence known.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t let you do that.¡±

    Claude and the others took the book and hid behind the nearest half-demolished wall. Damian remained standing between us with a confuddled look on his face. He had no idea what was going on, or why I was already familiar with the woman he¡¯d hidden from me for thirteen long years.

    Veronica¡¯s smile dropped, ¡°Maria! So happy to see that you¡¯re still alive. But you can¡¯t let me take the book? Would it be rude of me to ask why that is?¡±

    ¡°After all of this, you still seem to take me for some kind of fool. That book is the real reason you¡¯re here. You¡¯re very transparent.¡±

    Genta did not look like he was on board with the idea. He wanted to say something in defiance of Veronica¡¯s orders, but she was the one with the gun, and she could probably break every bone in his body otherwise. All of his enthusiasm for retrieving his family¡¯s generational work was cowed by the Faustian bargain he made to get here.

    If the Book of Cambry ended up in her hands ¨C he would never see it again.

    I allowed my coat to slip from my shoulders, rubbed the dirt from my face and allowed it to fall to the floor. The white shirt I started the day in was ruined, with dried blood and dirt, and frayed edges from the rough treatment that I¡¯d been lavishing onto it. I looked like I¡¯d been through hell and back.

    ¡°Is that your way of challenging me?¡± Veronica scoffed.

    ¡°A challenge? You aren¡¯t fit to shine my shoes. You¡¯ve done nothing but underestimate me since the start. It¡¯s time for me to correct your misconceptions.¡±

    Veronica scowled. She wasn¡¯t going to get her hands on the book while I was here, but at the same time, she didn¡¯t really want to hurt me. Until now ¨C it was all bluster and bluff. I was going to force her hand. She couldn¡¯t get what she wanted without fighting me. Everyone was left to sit there and wonder what was going to happen. It was the first time that Adrian and the others had seen me get serious.

    She put the gun away.

    ¡°Discipline it is, then.¡±

    If Veronica believed that she was getting the opportunity to deliver thirteen years of missed spankings, then she was in for a rude awakening. I wasn¡¯t going to let her so much as touch that damn book, not when the potential consequence was more scenes of abhorrent destruction like this. That fury would not be directed towards Walser¡¯s enemies ¨C it would merely hasten the end.

    Damian was still standing on the sidelines, and with a panicked wave of his arms, he tried to defuse the fight before it broke out in earnest.

    ¡°Ladies, ladies! There is no need for violence! Why don¡¯t we split it down the middle and leave, and we can hand the book over before we reach the police camp.¡±

    No. I wasn¡¯t going to let her get the book - not even under those circumstances. It was either she left empty handed or I died trying to stop her.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Father ¨C but the time for negotiation is over. Or rather, there is no room for negotiation. Giving that woman the book might just be the single most dangerous idea ever conceived by anyone.¡±

    ¡°And you suppose that it¡¯s safer in the hands of a teenager?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Claude isn¡¯t craven enough to try and use it.¡±

    Damian, sensing that there were no words of aid in disarming the situation ¨C backed away and joined the others behind the wall. With him out of the way, it was all but inevitable that we¡¯d come to blows. I readopted my fighting stance and started to close the gap with tentative steps.

    I¡¯d been studying my memories of our first scuffle in the manor carefully for hints about what fighting style she utilised. To fight with your hands was still seen as a noble pursuit, and not one intended to serve as an effective way to dispatch an enemy. The old ways were alive and well, but Veronica wasn¡¯t using some theatrical methodology.

    Even with that being true, it was a far cry from what I was capable of. I was a girl who¡¯d trained extensively in the single most effective ways to knock out a foe. It wasn¡¯t pretty, it wasn¡¯t for the sake of self-improvement, and it would certainly shock most martial practitioners with the brutality of its outcome.

    From what I could tell Veronica knew how to box, and some amount of grappling too. Those were good foundations, but that didn¡¯t mean she was familiar with the ins and outs of the human body in the way that I was. Where was best to strike, how to apply leverage to an easily broken limb, and what situations to avoid while on the ground.

    Veronica waited until she believed that I was on shaky ground and launched her first strike. Her leg rose into the air and hooked to the right, trying to knock me out in a single kick, but I was ready for it. I held up my arm and blocked it. She quickly backed away without trying to follow up. I shook my aching wrist but remained calm.

    The gunshot-like sound of that kick startled our observers, who were now painfully aware that this was not a trifling matter. We were both serious and skilled enough to carry it through.

    I probed her defences with a low kick of my own, aiming to hit her shins and prevent her from exploiting her height advantage. She deftly parried my attempt and moved with a punch from the right. I blocked her again and retaliated with a hook. This time I was the one who came out the victor. Her head snapped to the side as she tried to absorb some of the impact.

    The game was on. Veronica came back at me with a flurry of punches, trying to slip through my guard and strike the bridge of my nose. I kept my wall tight and prevented her from making any real progress beyond forcing me back. I had to watch the floor carefully, lest I trip over a brick or piece of lumber.

    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡± Claude cried.

    ¡°It looks like they¡¯re fighting to me,¡± Max quipped.

    ¡°I can see that!¡±

    I ignored the peanut gallery and silently hoped that they¡¯d get the message and make a run for the exit while they had the chance. Veronica kept up the attack until I was backed up against one of the still-standing walls. She swung again, but I ducked out of the way and caused her to strike her knuckles against the stone.

    She clutched her injured hand with a furious scowl, but that changed in an instant as I used her recoil to retake the initiative. I pummelled her legs and shins with more low kicks and threw a selection of weaker strikes at her body to keep her from becoming too complacent. It was a dazzling and terrifying dance between two almost equal combatants.

    Veronica was getting flustered. She thought that she could dispense of me quickly and grab the book, but that wasn¡¯t going to happen. She ducked another punch and grabbed a piece of lumber from the ground, swinging it up into the air as a blunt weapon and forcing me back.

    Cheap trick, but not one I was overly concerned about. The heavy plank further burdened her weakened legs and allowed me to easily space her out. She hefted it up into the air and brought it down with a vertical swing, but I sidestepped it and pushed her back. Dust flew into the air as the tip of the lumber hit the floor.

    ¡°You call this a fight?¡± I taunted.

    Veronica replied in the only way she knew how ¨C by trying to change the equation with a desperate tackle. She was taller and heavier than me, but that was no guarantee of success when approaching from below. I wrapped my arms around her head and neck, pushing off into the air and preventing her from bringing me down by clinging onto my legs.

    I touched the floor again and punished her for it with a stiff knee to the chest, and then another to the head. Veronica kept a hold of my waist, swinging over and dragging me to the floor in a seated position. She released me and tried to slip an arm around my neck, but I whipped back with my head and hit her across the nose. She persisted. I took hold of her arm and arched my back while pushing off from the floor, flipping us over so that she was on the ground and I was on my knees.

    Veronica rolled out of the way before I could pummel her face into a red mist. We were still in eyeshot of the others, but our battle was beginning to become more problematic. A cultist, who had survived the Alchemist¡¯s magic, leapt from within one of the buildings with his gun bared. Without turning her eyes away from me, Veronica drew her gun in one swift motion and pulled the trigger, splattering his head against the doorway.

    Another one was already charging at me. I stepped to the side and kicked him in the stomach, before leaping up and curb-stomping his head into the dirt. He was knocked out on the spot. In any other situation, this would be cause for us to cease our fistfight and move it somewhere else, but Veronica was built differently. She intended to end this debate right here.

    ¡°I¡¯m not impressed,¡± she stated.

    That was her problem. I wasn¡¯t trying to show off.

 Chapter 102

    I got the impression that Veronica still wasn¡¯t taking me seriously. Or more accurately ¨C something was stopping her from fighting earnestly. This shouldn¡¯t have been so difficult for her. She was older, stronger and had a longer reach than me. She was fighting a teenager in the throes of puberty, any muscle mass I tried to put on was a coin toss as to whether it would stick.

    Technique could go a long way, but there were limits to what I could achieve without waiting a few years. I continued to press the advantage and force her back towards one of the still intact buildings in the yard. The rest of the group tried to keep us in eyesight without exposing themselves to the cultists who survived.

    One of those survivors emerged from the door to see what the new commotion was about. He never stood a chance. Veronica moved behind him, reached out and pulled him into a headlock, using him as a human shield while I pummelled him with a series of punches. His head whipped back with a freshly broken nose before she dumped him into the mud like a piece of garbage.

    She moved left and caused me to kick the stone wall.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You don¡¯t seem eager to throw punches anymore.¡±

    Veronica scowled, ¡°Is that accent your way of mocking me?¡±

    ¡°No. This is how I sound when I drop the pretences.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a stupid girl. This fight is pointless. We could be out of here and home free by now!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not spend the rest of my natural life experiencing sleepless nights, waiting for a fool like you to kill us all with that book. Surely a cynic like you understands what¡¯s going to happen if your handlers get their hands on it.¡±

    Another flurry of blows was exchanged between us, our defences becoming weaker and less pristine with every passing second. This was no longer a pretty duel between two trained fighters, it was a brawl, bare knuckles and bloodstained shirts. Veronica¡¯s dress was already caked with mud and blood. A trickle of the red stuff came from her nose and rested atop her flared upper lip.

    She struck back, striking me across the brow and leaving a nasty cut. The blood flowed immediately and heavily, threatening to blind one of my eyes and make life much harder. I was forced to wipe it away and keep my vision clear, which meant defending against her was almost impossible. I had to step back and keep my distance.

    Veronica was waiting for that. She charged at me and wrapped her arms around my midsection, lifting me up into the air and through the wooden boards that kept the stable held together. We crashed through them and into a pile of unused hay. It stole my breath, so she took the opportunity to gather her thoughts and recover.

    She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what I understand or what I want. I follow the orders they give me and that¡¯s that.¡±

    I wheezed, ¡°Then why don¡¯t you destroy it, or lose it? If it¡¯s anything less than forfeiting your life ¨C that would be preferable to letting them have it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too idealistic ¨C Maria. The military men upstairs want the book, and they¡¯re leaning on us to get it for them. Do you think that life is a series of choices that you¡¯re free to take? It¡¯s not. Most of the time we don¡¯t have a choice at all!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t choose? So, what the hell was it when you met Damian and had me?¡±

    Veronica tensed up as I neatly encapsulated her past in a single statement. That was the truth, the one which she tried to obscure with non-committal words and that ever-present smirk. The reason I¡¯d never met her was because she feared what would happen to me if they found out.

    ¡°Falling in love with a nobleman, getting pregnant ¨C they would be furious if they found out. So you hid it. You ran away from them for months and months until you could deliver me and wash your hands of it, even when you risked your life in the process. If that wasn¡¯t a choice that you made, then what was it?¡±

    Veronica reached down and pulled me back up from the floor by the shirt, throwing me back through the front gate and into a roll. The floor beneath our feet was a mixture of dry patches and puddles brought about by the disturbance of the groundwater. I barely avoided dousing myself in the muddy swill and potentially infecting my wounds.

    She gritted her teeth, ¡°What do you know about me? What do you know about what I¡¯ve done, and what I¡¯ve been forced to do? You¡¯re right. They would have killed me, tied me up like any of their other little loose ends, but I never had a choice! It was keep you from them and beg for forgiveness, or let them catch me and die. There was only ever one path forward!¡±

    She punctuated each declaration with a heavy blow ¨C forcing me back further and further.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s the whole truth. When I delivered you, I promised Damian that he¡¯d never see me again, but life always finds a way to shovel a fresh load of shit into my face. I was right about everything. The moment we met you were dragged into this, the one thing I didn¡¯t want to happen.¡±

    ¡°We live in dangerous times, Veronica. I got into plenty of trouble without you.¡±

    I countered one of her punches and swept her leg, pushing her and leaving her off-balance. I charged in and grabbed at her left arm, wrenching it around her back and trying to apply pressure. Veronica was wise to my plan and quickly unwound herself from my grasp. In return, she slipped an arm under my crotch and lifted me up into the air, legs and arms flailing on instinct.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want you to have the same childhood that I did. Waking up and learning how to kill. Never getting to be a kid,¡± she chuckled deliriously, ¡°But some good that did. Look at you. You¡¯re everything I didn¡¯t want you to be.¡±

    I was brought back down to earth as she released me. I protected my face during the fall, but the land robbed what little air remained in my lungs and stunned me. Again, Veronica refused to follow up and seal her victory. She just stood there and stared as I collected myself. I gripped the dirt between my fingers and glared up at her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ditch me for thirteen years and then act surprised when your ideals aren¡¯t faithfully executed. I¡¯m not just some toy for your amusement.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a load of pish and you know it. Your Father¡¯s been keeping a close eye on you ever since. How could you possibly turn into this without him finding out?¡±

    I laughed, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you like to know? Damian isn¡¯t always at the house - he¡¯s busy with business. A mischievous young noble is liable to find themselves means of entertainment.¡±

    I lunged at her by kicking myself up from the ground and headbutting her in the gut. Veronica gasped and staggered back into the wall, bouncing off of it and moving back towards me. I took advantage of my surprise attack and continued to throw my fists at her with wild abandon.

    ¡°I never needed your protection! I can handle myself!¡±

    Her head whipped to the left with a spray of blood escaping her mouth. She staggered back, but reversed the momentum and came back at me with a violent swing of her own. I was too tired to put my arms up in time to block it. I gritted my teeth and bore the pain instead. My vision blurred and my neck was forced ninety degrees to the right.

    ¡°I did all of this for your sake! I didn¡¯t want you to be here! I didn¡¯t want this to happen!¡± she roared.

    She grabbed me by the collar of my blood-soaked shirt and hit me again, and again. I¡¯d riled her up. She was using all of her strength to overpower me. All it took was to touch her raw nerves. To mock her for everything she believed she was doing and the hard reality of what she could not.

    At that moment ¨C my mind was a million miles away from the fort, or the book, or any of the problems that were eating at me. My eyes were focused squarely on the man waiting in the wings with a rifle in hand. I had to move. I used the last of my strength to draw my gun and slip it beneath her arm. Just before he could shoot Veronica in the back, I took him down with a return shot to the skull.

    Veronica took advantage of my decision. She came down with another firm punch to the bridge of my nose while I couldn¡¯t defend myself, leaving another cut and sending a fresh flood of red stuff into my eyes and mouth. The taste of iron submerged my other senses.

    He fell. I fell.

    That was it. Veronica had won. I made a choice. I chose to shoot that cultist and save her life. The rank brutality of what happened was starting to sink in. Damian, Genta, Samantha and the others watched in stunned silence, and gasped at the state of my face when I turned my head to the side.

    Veronica stared down at me. I couldn¡¯t move. My legs collapsed under their own weight when I tried to get up again and I found myself lying on the floor with black spots pecking at the edge of my vision. I tried to will my uncooperative body into moving but it was no use.

    ¡°Stay down. Please. Just stay down.¡±

    I looked like hell. Veronica couldn¡¯t even stand to gaze at the damage she¡¯d caused without wincing. Bruising, swelling, ugly yellow and purple splotches covering my cheeks and brow. It was the first time since my rebirth that I¡¯d been seriously injured.

    She would have preferred for this to have blown over and for the plot to be executed without a blemish, but that was stupid. No plan survived reality. There were too many people gunning for you, waiting in the wings to screw it up. She was always ready and willing to get her hands dirty to complete the job ¨C just like me, but this was personal.

    Suddenly that same act which she performed so many times before took on a new, disturbing meaning. She took it for granted. Now it had brought her to the gruesome sight of her own daughter beaten and bloodied. When she turned back to speak with Genta and the rest ¨C she hesitated. This was the last situation she wanted to be in. Now she had to be the ¡®bad guy.¡¯

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Veronica wiped her bloodied knuckle clean on her dress and walked towards them.

    ¡°Give me the book.¡±

    Claude, staring down the barrel of a metaphorical gun, was left with little choice in the matter. He chose to do the correct thing and hand it over. There was no good outcome to denying her now that she was willing to use force. Veronica snatched it from his hands and shoved it into Genta¡¯s chest without looking back at him.

    ¡°Hold onto this, and don¡¯t let go no matter what.¡±

    ¡°Veronica ¨C you¡¯re threatening this young man...¡±

    She turned on him, ¡°This is a lot bigger than one or two people. That damnable monster they summoned just killed half of the fort by looking at them, I needn¡¯t wax lyrical about what might happen if someone else gets their hands on it.¡±

    Genta found her actions visibly distasteful. He stepped away with the book cradled in his arms and refrained from complaining any further. Veronica and him both recognized the clear hypocrisy in what she was saying. The book was too dangerous to be left in irresponsible hands, yet that was what she was planning to do all along. Anyone who wished to use the book were not suitable guardians.

    ¡°Gwyneth.¡±

    The simple mention of her name gave her pause.

    She was trying desperately to ignore what this meant. Damian had witnessed her brutally beating their daughter into a pulp, all for the sake of a book that would endanger the lives of millions of others. In her mind, there was a small recognition of what she could have done. I was right, she thought, destroying the book and making an excuse to the handlers would have been easier and safer.

    The ultimate weakness of any person is their stubbornness. Their refusal to accept that they were wrong. Self-reflection was presented as an important virtue, but how many people in Walser could honestly claim that they never dug their heels into the dirt and defied reason to save face?

    Veronica had done the same. She fell down the slope and refused to admit that I had a point. She bristled at the mere thought of being in the wrong, but she couldn¡¯t ignore the widespread destruction caused by the Horrcath. If not for Genta changing the contract and keeping its time short ¨C then it could have killed tens of thousands of people in a blind rampage across the country. Giving that power to anyone else wasn¡¯t keeping Walser safe.

    That principle ¨C the one that guided her every action, was now contravened by her actions and beliefs. She wanted to keep Walser safe for my sake. She wanted to create a Walser where I would never go hungry or be placed in danger, and she desired badly to spread that same safety to other parents as well so that there would never again be a generation of children like her. Destitute at the hands of war before being absorbed into it as a new weapon.

    All of this was for that purpose, yet she was the one who ended up harming Maria the most. All of her precious principles and wants were nothing in the face of her cowardice. She was going through the motions, following orders like a good little soldier. At the most critical moment, she failed to do what she intended.

    That was the reason she didn¡¯t keep the book in her hands. She didn¡¯t want to touch it. She didn¡¯t want those ill-gotten gains or the responsibility that came with them.

    Damian wavered between confronting her for what she¡¯d done or running to render aid to his daughter. I was still lying flat on my back and trying to keep the blood from stinging my eyes.

    ¡°What is this? What was the purpose?¡± Damian demanded.

    Veronica shook her head and said nothing. She was not the one left holding the Book of Cambry between blood-stained palms. It was Genta. She had handed it over to him without fully thinking about the implications of doing so.

    I saw his feet moving out of the corner of my eye. He stepped away from his protector while she was distracted by a confrontation with her former lover. He was being carried by a sense of responsibility ¨C the very same that brought him here to recover the book in the first place. He understood now that there were only two choices left.

    Recover the book and have it used for ill, or destroy it.

    He was getting dangerously close to the fire that burned behind us. Veronica¡¯s mind took a moment to catch up before she connected the dots and comprehended what he was trying to do. He was going to burn it. He was going to destroy the book and keep her handlers from seeing what was written inside.

    In an instant, the balance of power was flipped on its head. The time I spent fighting Veronica was time wherein he thought about all of the words and actions she¡¯d committed until this point, and within that reflection was an important realization for Genta. Veronica was always after the book.

    Genta knew what was inside but he was also a squishy human with troublesome issues like ¡®morals¡¯ and ¡®standards.¡¯ That wouldn¡¯t do for a government agency trying to get its hands on a secret weapon monopolized exclusively by him. They needed the book because the book couldn¡¯t withhold information from them.

    Bringing him to the fort was another part of her calculated risk. He could provide all of the expertise she required to avoid fighting the Horrcath directly, and she could then pilfer the book and leave him with nothing. It was more worth it to risk his life in the fighting than to go without his experience in the field, and she could always get the book later if he bit the dust.

    He was right in front of me now, approaching the burning timbers created by Veronica¡¯s explosive surprise. She sprinted towards him as quickly as her injured legs could carry her, but it was too far a distance for her to cover before he was at the burning pile of lumber by the collapsed internal wall. She skidded to a stop in the dirt and changed tack on the spot.

    Veronica held out her palms and tried to plead with him, ¡°Genta, think about what you¡¯re about to do! That is your family¡¯s life work! Three generations of your family have been adding to that tome, and it¡¯ll be lost forever if you burn it! Have you lost your mind?¡±

    Genta shook his head and nodded in my direction, ¡°I should ask you the same question. You told me that you wanted to protect that girl come what may. Was that all just a lie so that we¡¯d leave her behind?¡±

    Veronica gritted her teeth; ¡°That was a lie. I made it up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that I¡¯ve already made my conclusion, Veronica. Of all the things you¡¯ve said to me since this ordeal started ¨C that was the one and only time you have been truthful with me. I could tell. If you truly meant what you said back then you would agree with me that this book is too dangerous to be left intact.¡±

    ¡°And what about your family¡¯s legacy? That book means everything to you!¡±

    ¡°There could be no greater stain to my family¡¯s legacy than to let you use this book as a weapon of war. To unleash destruction on an even greater scale than the Civil War would leave millions cursing our name for the rest of time. I won¡¯t have it. I will not allow my Father and my Grandfather¡¯s work to be appropriated in such a way!¡±

    Veronica wanted him so desperately to be available to her for negotiation. She wanted to believe that a specific combination of words and rhetorical arguments would prevent Genta from taking the step he was threatening to. Genta was not available for negotiation, nor was he willing to listen. Seeing her point a gun at Claude was the last piece of evidence that he needed to see. This book was driving people to madness.

    They weren¡¯t ready for the truth. Not yet.

    ¡°Nobody will even know that you were involved!¡±

    ¡°No. You don¡¯t get it. The truth always comes out in the end. Brilliant men and women will make sure of that. They¡¯ll correct the record, make history, and bring light to the darkest corners of our society. If not that, then the guilt will compel me to tell! We might not be ready for the truth, or even satisfied with it, yet we seek it all the same.¡±

    ¡°Genta!¡±

    He held it above the flames.

    ¡°I thank you for your effort, Veronica. This is my favour to you.¡±

    And with that ¨C Genta dropped the book into the pyre.

    Veronica tried to run forth and grab it before it caught alight ¨C but the fire was too large and ferocious for her to recover it without burning her hands to a crisp. The old book, filled with a hundred years of family history, caught alight with immediacy. Those weathered pages served as the perfect kindling. In an instant, the Book of Cambry was no more. It was not only the destruction of the written words but the memories that spilt forth onto the pages. The curse was activated.

    Claude and Genta collapsed on the spot.

    ¡°Claude!¡± Max cried, catching him in his arms before he could hit the ground.

    I was in such a rush to stop Hoffman that I forgot to tell him about the damn curse. He¡¯d scribbled something onto the back page of the book. Both he and Genta were experiencing a novel sensation. Patches of their memory were dyed black with ink and obscured from sight, leaving inexplicable gaps, separating connective tissue and rendering them deeply confused.

    Genta had it the worst. He¡¯d spent decades of his life following the family business and studying the book for all of its secrets before adding his own. While part of that learning remained with him, all of the original contributions he made were bound by the curse and wiped from his memory.

    Veronica stared, shell-shocked at the blaze and the rapidly withering cover of the book she was ordered to collect. I didn¡¯t know what she felt at that moment. Despair, fear, or relief? She would no longer have to hand the keys to Armageddon to a group of people she distrusted. Walser would not suffer under the yoke of another powerful Horrcath.

    Samantha descended on my position and winced at the sight of my injuries.

    ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ name were you thinking?¡±

    I grinned through bloodied teeth, ¡°It worked out in the end.¡±

    Samantha sighed and used her healing magic to close the cuts, and a clean rag she kept in her pocket to wipe away some of the blood that had covered my face like a red mask. She then helped me back up to my feet, using her superior strength to keep me aloft. I limped towards Damian and tried to conjure up a convincing excuse.

    For the time being ¨C he wasn¡¯t interested in hearing any explanations.

    ¡°We should go. The police are going to be here soon.¡±

    I was in no condition to refuse. I could barely walk under my own steam. Damian hooked my other arm and all but lifted me from the ground, hurrying my carcass to the exit I¡¯d planned to use originally. Max and Adrian carried Claude. Genta and Veronica were left there, but I saw her reaching down to grab him and make a similar escape. I wasn¡¯t worried about them.

    It was a relief to finally see the outside of the fort again. We rushed down the trench line, keeping a vigilant eye out for more cultists as we went. Further from the walls, it was easier to appreciate the destruction that Veronica and the Alchemist had caused. The inner courtyard was almost completely demolished, and several fires raged violently, billowing a curtain of black smoke into the air.

    I passed in and out of consciousness until we reached the police line over the hill.

    I came to some hours later with a worried-looking Samantha hovering over me from above.

    ¡°Where am I?¡±

    ¡°A medical tent. That woman beat you black and blue ¨C but they said there should be no permanent injuries. Just a faint scar on your brow.¡±

    ¡°I know. Faces are fairly durable.¡±

    It was a miracle that Veronica hadn¡¯t shattered my cheekbones or nose. She was putting her full weight behind those last punches. I may have lost the battle, but that display was enough to convince Genta to hand me the victory overall. The book was gone and for the time being, Walser was safe from another demonic incursion.

    I looked down at my body. My shirt, which was white a few hours ago, was utterly soaked through with blood. There was scarcely a patch left untouched. This was what happened when someone cut a vein in your forehead with a glancing blow. It looked worse than it was.

    ¡°I have a headache.¡±

    ¡°Well that means you need to lie down and rest-¡±

    I swung my legs over the edge of the cot and sat up. The shifting centre of gravity made me feel light-headed, but it was better than lying there and stewing in misery.

    ¡°You¡¯re unbelievable. The Doctor said that you need to rest.¡±

    ¡°I am resting.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re not.¡±

    We stared each other down, but Samantha¡¯s stern expression cracked and she covered her mouth in a hopeless attempt to stop her laughter from leaking out.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s just... it¡¯s very funny when you try to look intimidating with one eye swollen shut.¡±

    It was the first time Samantha had seen me defeated in anything, from shooting, to studies, to tennis, to bare-knuckle brawling. A chip in the armour that I surrounded myself with. The mystique of the invulnerable Maria Walston-Carter was partly dispelled.

    ¡°I honestly didn¡¯t expect her to hit me so hard. That¡¯s what I get for riling her up.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t expect to win, did you?¡±

    ¡°No. What I said was more important than the punches I threw.¡±

    Samantha exhaled, ¡°You always have to have a little victory tucked up your sleeve.¡±

    What I wanted was not necessarily to beat her in a fight ¨C but to confront her with the consequences of her actions. It was a gamble based on her prior words and statements, and now her response served as the arbiter of truth. She wasn¡¯t full of crap after all, she might not have realised that and lied to herself, but it was true.

    We both spoke in concert.

    ¡°I want to talk with you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to have a word.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s convenient. I¡¯d like to do it somewhere more private though.¡±

    I mindfully eyed the other people sleeping in the tent with me.

    Samanatha nodded; ¡°Sure. Get cleaned up and I¡¯ll drag you out of here.¡±

 Chapter 103

    After I finished rinsing the grease and blood from my face with some clean water, we found a nice, quiet spot just outside of the police camp to sit down and speak about what was happening. The cool air was just what I needed to ease the irritation caused by my injuries ¨C it was a lot easier than finding a bag of ice for them. Domestic refrigeration was still in its infancy.

    While I was sleeping off my fatigue, the police launched their attack on the fort, though they quickly discovered that there were seldom few cultists left to kill. A combination of Veronica, me, and the Alchemist thinned their numbers to the extent that those who remained were either overwhelmed with numbers or simply surrendered at the first opportunity.

    It was a coin flip for their survival. The punishment for their crimes would be harsh, and the prosecutors would push for a collective responsibility aspect to be applied to any sentencing. Many would find themselves burdened with lifetime jail terms or execution by the state.

    Samantha hovered to my left before taking a seat on the upturned tree. It looked out across one of the farmer¡¯s fields and beyond. It was a picturesque view, spoiled somewhat by my inability to see out of one eye. Samantha didn¡¯t know where to start. She had too many questions and none of the grace to break them without seeming brusque.

    ¡°Out with it. I won¡¯t get offended, no matter what you ask.¡±

    She sighed, ¡°No. It¡¯s not that. I know that you have a great tolerance for whatever idiotic questions I come up with.¡±

    ¡°Then what is the problem?¡±

    Samantha was careful with wording her explanation; ¡°Well, when I started spending time away from you back at the farm ¨C there were a lot of things in my head that I wasn¡¯t so sure about. From a distance I started to reconsider what I¡¯ve seen and what I know about you.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°I see. Time and distance have a way of doing that.¡±

    ¡°After what happened at the theatre, I tried to go with the flow and accept what happened even if it didn¡¯t make any sense to me. I accepted that you¡¯re the way you are and tried not to ask questions. But after they attacked my home I realized just how...¡±

    ¡°Odd?¡±

    She grimaced, ¡°Odd. Yes. It¡¯s very odd. You defy any logical explanation. You told me the ¡®secret¡¯ as it was but I started to wonder if there was more you weren¡¯t telling me.¡±

    ¡°Of course there is ¨C but the immediacy of what I¡¯d done was more important at the time. I did not want to overwhelm you with a full explanation of who I am and how I know how to do these things.¡±

    Samantha hopped from the log and paced back and forth, ¡°It¡¯s not necessarily that secret that upsets me. It¡¯s not even something that you did. I keep expecting answers and honesty when I didn¡¯t offer you the same in return.¡±

    I held up my palm and stopped her; ¡°It¡¯s your right to keep secrets, Samantha. There is no need to tell me if you feel that it isn¡¯t in your best interest. How can you even be certain that I¡¯ll respond in kind and give you the answers you want?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want this to be a transaction. I want to say it as a friend.¡±

    I retracted my outstretched palm.

    ¡°If you wish.¡±

    Another deep breath. Samantha liked doing that. It was as if she was trying to inhale honesty from the surrounding air, even when she was already full of it.

    ¡°I lied when I said that Durandia didn¡¯t give me an important piece of information before. She told me something else that really made me think.¡±

    ¡°And that is?¡±

    ¡°She told me that in the future ¨C your fate would be in my hands and that I¡¯d have a choice whether to betray you or not.¡±

    Now that was an unvarnished truth. I understood why she was wracked with anxiety about it, and why she kept it from me at the time.

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t like that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s unsettling!¡± Samantha said, spinning on her heel and facing me head-on, ¡°I want to be your friend, but my own head keeps telling me that it¡¯s a bad idea. That you¡¯re dangerous, or that it¡¯ll end up with me being in that situation and having to choose. I don¡¯t want that.¡±

    I recognized this problem. It was the same one that I was worried about. How much free will were we really enjoying under her watch, and what was the true meaning of the words she said to us during our trip across the Veil? There were two possibilities. They were either truthful and intended as a warning, or they were stated for the express purpose of conditioning us, trying to make us behave in a very specific way.

    Durandia planted that seed of doubt in her mind in the full knowledge that it would consume her for the next few weeks and eventually lead to the conversation we were having.

    ¡°And that¡¯s all the context she gave you?¡±

    Sam nodded.

    ¡°I guess your problem is that you don¡¯t feel well-placed to judge me. I disagree. If I ever become so far gone that I can¡¯t even earn your forgiveness, I deserve whatever punishment comes my way at your hand.¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°No. I don¡¯t want to do that at all. I don¡¯t want to potentially hurt or kill you.¡±

    ¡°But we can¡¯t always get what we want. That¡¯s the harsh truth.¡±

    She was expecting me to be more upset about the deception when she aired it to me. All of that anticipation and fear of an argument breaking out was for nothing. She deflated like a balloon and slumped over next to me.

    Even hearing that I placed so much trust in her judgement didn¡¯t feel complimentary or right. Who was she to judge me, or anyone for that matter? She was an ignorant farm girl who didn¡¯t know the first thing about how the real world operated. That was her takeaway from the entire ordeal. She was incapable of doing what needed to be done to protect innocent people. If she was placed into a situation where she had to take a life, she wouldn¡¯t be able to.

    Another part of her could not ascribe my actions as being virtuous. She knew where I stood on the use of violence to resolve disputes. I would have been happy to sit down and talk it out, but the Scuncath were far beyond the reach of reason or common sense. They wanted to hurt people, and in the face of that what other response was available?

    The proper course of action would have been to prevent the violence from happening in the first place. Violence, as I said to her before, was ultimately a mark of failure. It was a sign that the righteous path was not followed and that as an outcome there would be bloodshed.

    Samantha couldn¡¯t wrap her head around it. If the Goddess was real, why did she allow these terrible crimes to be committed against her children? She and I were now the avatars of her will - the outstretched hand of divinity trying to right the ship and prevent disaster.

    ¡°You trust me that much?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about trust. I think you¡¯re the most upright girl in the country. That¡¯s why Durandia chose you to be my other half, I suppose.¡±

    Samantha leapt on my choice of words as quickly as she could; ¡°Like a bride?¡±

    I responded fast in return, ¡°No. Not like a bride. She said that you and I have a great destiny awaiting us, or something along those lines.¡±

    Samantha laughed, ¡°That doesn¡¯t make a single bit of sense to me. If we¡¯re meant to be saving the world or what have you, why would we be put into a situation where we¡¯re fighting against one another?¡±

    ¡°She likes that uncertainty. I feel that it¡¯s best for us to keep our eyes on the present and try not to think about it too much. All of her words were chosen carefully and for a reason, they might not necessarily be true.¡±

    ¡°The Goddess wouldn¡¯t lie to us ¨C surely.¡±

    ¡°While I understand your faith, the fact that she was in some way attempting to manipulate us makes me believe that she is not above using untruths to get the outcome she desires.¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t going to spend any time arguing with me about that. It was a difference of opinion based on the sum total of zero evidence. It would have been comforting to know that Durandia was earnest and incapable of embodying humanity¡¯s worst traits, but I¡¯d seen nothing to suggest that was the case. She was like me in many ways. She was trying to come to the best outcome and if that meant breaking a few eggs, then she was going to do just that.

    It was dangerous to act under the presumption that Durandia was uniquely unbiased and trustworthy. She wanted to see a particular outcome from all of this. She was directed by her own desires.

    ¡°I was scared.¡±

    ¡°Understandable.¡±

    ¡°I was standing there and watching you fight, but I didn¡¯t try to step in and help or even to break it up.¡±

    ¡°Did you want to?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I feel like I let you down. I managed to stop them back at the farm, but this time I was too scared to move.¡±

    ¡°When people lose their fear - they start making stupid decisions. Keeping calm under pressure and being afraid are two very different issues. I¡¯d rather have you paralyzed in shock than confidently charge into disaster. I taught you how to stay calm, not to discard your fear.¡±

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Samantha twiddled her thumbs, ¡°Well ¨C it worked.¡±

    ¡°At that moment, if and when it arrives, all I can say is for you to do what you think is best. You have to decide for yourself what the best path is without worrying about my feelings. Any less than that would make me the worst kind of hypocrite.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a typically complicated answer.¡±

    ¡°Life is anything but simple at the best of times.¡±

    The discussion ended there, though I was left with the impression that there was more to her dilemma that she wasn¡¯t ready to share with me yet. Our talk went some way to relieving that pressure. Samantha was visibly happier now that the secret wasn¡¯t weighing on her shoulders.

    After some minutes of silence, she launched into a detailed explanation of what happened once I blacked out. All of the hostages had been rescued from the fort, partly thanks to my Father, and placed in the medical tent under armed guard. They didn¡¯t want the cultists getting their hands on them again.

    The fort was cleared out within the hour. I was sure that the rank-and-file officers were breathing a collective sigh of relief at not having to besiege the place like they expected originally. There was a new threat to worry about instead. They had no idea what kind of monster had caused the huge amount of damage to the fortress, ripping away half of the buildings and leaving dozens dead with molten gold leaking from their eyes, ears and mouths. That was going to be a delicate discussion behind the scenes between the WISA, police and military.

    Claude was brought to one of the tents and given time to sleep off his sudden bout of ¡®fatigue.¡¯ None of the others knew why he collapsed once the book was burned. I saw fit to explain it to Samantha so that we were clear on the events.

    ¡°It was cursed?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Whatever is written into the book is wiped from the author¡¯s memory if the page is destroyed. I noticed Cade writing something into it at the time, but I was in a hurry to get to the throne room and couldn¡¯t warn him about it. It slipped my mind entirely.¡±

    Samantha sighed, ¡°So that¡¯s why he was acting so confused earlier.¡±

    ¡°What did he forget?¡±

    ¡°Everything involving you, from the moment you rescued us from the dungeon to the when the book was thrown into the fire. It¡¯s incredible. He remembers most of what happened except the precise moments when you were present. Naturally, it¡¯s very strange to have large chunks of your recollection missing. He knows that he¡¯s forgotten something but can¡¯t figure out what it is.¡±

    ¡°Thank goodness he didn¡¯t write his life story into that damn thing.¡±

    Samantha grimaced at the grisly thought of Claude accidentally wiping even more of his own memories in the process. It could have been really bad if he hadn¡¯t simply used it to write his furious allegations of my involvement.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. That would be terrible.¡±

    ¡°Did you tell him what happened?¡±

    Samantha hesitated.

    ¡°Well, no, not really.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°On one hand, there¡¯s no way he¡¯d believe us without seeing it for himself, and on the other, I didn¡¯t want to start spreading your secret without your permission.¡±

    I laughed. Some secret that was supposed to be. The worst outcome of this ordeal was that my Father had seen me getting into a bloody fistfight with my Mother. I wasn¡¯t certain if he also watched me shoot and kill the rifleman during the last moments of our fight. Not only that ¨C but Adrian and Max had seen the whole fight play out too. It was going to be almost impossible to keep a lid on this now.

    ¡°And what about Max and Adrian?¡±

    ¡°Adrian didn¡¯t want to talk. Max was quiet as well. Are you worried?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I doubt that anyone will be willing to believe them right away, but...¡±

    ¡°If they all start saying the same thing ¨C their words start being more credible.¡±

    One eyewitness was a story, multiple eyewitnesses became a pattern. If they were desperate enough to field their theories, it may develop into a serious problem. I did not want the police snooping into my business and asking questions about where I¡¯d been and what I was doing.

    I should have been glad that Claude lost his memories thanks to the book, but I was starting to believe that his lack of knowledge about me was part of what attracted him to these dangerous places. He was always following his instincts and trying to find clues about whatever theory was occupying his mind.

    On the other side of the fence, he was a horrendous blabbermouth who didn¡¯t know the first thing about the value of discretion. It was easier to list the names of the nobles at the academy who he hadn¡¯t offended, rather than the ones he had. If Max and Adrian backed him up on what happened, then his lack of credibility would be less prescient to them.

    What a headache.

    I was not looking forward to the conversation with my Father either. It was going to be hell on earth when I got back to the manor and we had a chat about what was going on while he was away on his business trips. The discord I felt was written plainly on my face. Samantha was staring at me.

    I was being foolish. I couldn¡¯t expect to live my life in relative comfort when my hand was being forced time and time again. I hoped that these revelations would eventually prove liberating. Adrian, Claude and Max were all members of the ¡®main cast¡¯ after all. It was inevitable that I would have to deal with them.

    ¡°Is there something else on your mind, Maria?¡±

    I nodded; ¡°You know, for a long time I felt that keeping everyone in the dark was the best way to protect them. I didn¡¯t want anyone to know about my true nature because I feared that through knowing, you and other bystanders would be drawn into the chaos. That was me being self-serving, acting in the interest of my own comfort. I had no right to deny you a choice.¡±

    ¡°I feel a ¡®but¡¯ on the horizon.¡±

    ¡°But I also know that information is only as dangerous as the circumstances that surround it and the context that precludes it. In a more just Walser, perhaps Genta Cambry would not have had to destroy his family¡¯s life work, and we would never have run into the Scuncath.¡±

    Samantha stared across the rolling hills and nodded along with me.

    ¡°Genta was right. The truth; the sciences, history and politics ¨C they will always march onwards regardless of what people wish. In that moment he chose what he felt was right to do, and I must applaud him for it. It was an unsung deed of heroism to destroy the book, but at the same time, it was only a temporary setback. When Walser no longer suffers from the same malaise that it does now ¨C men and women like him will reconstruct what was lost without the fear of their discoveries being misused.¡±

    ¡°Kinda¡¯ like a fight.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. This back and forth will continue into the future long after we¡¯ve departed this world. The question I find myself asking now is whether it¡¯s time to be forthright with the rest.¡±

    Samantha replied in a way I did not anticipate.

    ¡°You said it yourself. Do you believe that it¡¯s the right time to do that?¡±

    My lips thinned, ¡°Maybe not. I doubt anyone would be willing to believe it. A girl like me shooting a man dead. It¡¯s sheer absurdity. Satire. Parody.¡±

    Samantha laughed under her breath, ¡°Getting into a bloody fistfight with her own mother.¡±

    ¡°Aye. It¡¯s a shame that I was not presented with the opportunity to get some clear answers out of her. Not that I¡¯m willing to sacrifice the safety of the entire country for that.¡±

    ¡°So, when you said you¡¯ve never seen or met her before...¡±

    ¡°That was true. I can tell you the whole story if you¡¯d prefer.¡±

    Samantha shrugged, ¡°Sure. Why not?¡±

    I cast my mind back to the carriage ride and started to speak.

    <hr>

    ¡°How was Channery, Gladwell?¡±

    Being forced to sit in that big leather chair, with the low bottom that made her feel like she was sinking into the floor, was one of the few parts of the job that still rattled Veronica. On this occasion ¨C she looked like a school child who was sulking after being caught getting up to mischief, not helped by the bruises and lumps that covered her normally beautiful features.

    ¡°Miserable.¡±

    The handler sighed, ¡°And what happened to your face?¡±

    Veronica shrugged, ¡°There were a few complications.¡±

    ¡°I know. It¡¯s unusual to see you on the receiving end of any kind of injury.¡±

    ¡°You did send me on a one-woman suicide mission. It¡¯s perfectly natural that when faced with so many zealous opponents I¡¯d take a hit or two. Your worries about their level of organization were not unfounded, luckily, the man that glued those desperate mobs together has been killed.¡±

    ¡°I can see that - and all of the hostages escaped unscathed. Characteristically perfectionist work, as I expect from you.¡±

    ¡°Perfect? I failed to recover the book.¡±

    Frankfort just smiled and turned over the page, ¡°We can overlook a small mistake like that.¡±

    What Frankfort, the handler, meant was entirely different - and Veronica picked up on it. The only reason she gave her the order was because the bigwigs at the defence ministry next door were breathing down her neck about it. Frankfort was as dedicated a public servant as one could find in Walser ¨C yet she was not immune to pride. Being meddled with by the military drove her up the wall. They didn¡¯t understand the work they did behind the scenes. They were not errand boys and girls for generals who didn¡¯t know which way to hold a rifle.

    Their job was to defend the nation against internal threats.

    And sometimes those internal threats came from the very men and women who swore to defend it. Frankfort thought they were all buffoons, and the thought of giving them even a portion of the destructive power that Veronica testified about made her shiver in her boots. So much so that her testimony was kept off the record. Frankfort and her boss were the only ones who heard it.

    This second meeting was more candid. Veronica would only reveal the finer points in a one-on-one discussion. Ms. Frankfort was known for her stern manner and analytical eye. She already had all of Veronica¡¯s reports typed out and left in a pile on the desk so that she could check through the timeline of events in detail.

    ¡°We¡¯ve interviewed Doctor Genta about his work, yet he appears to be suffering from some form of memory loss. I take it that you were witness to why that might be?¡±

    Veronica kept her nerve and stated the facts, ¡°According to him ¨C the book that contained his family¡¯s work was bound with a powerful curse. The book¡¯s destruction wiped his memory of what was written inside.¡±

    ¡°I took your testimony into consideration and gave him a nice, friendly interview, and he was very candid about what happened.¡±

    Veronica felt her heart skip a beat. She hoped he didn¡¯t say anything about Maria to them.

    ¡°Do you feel that this is the right approach?¡±

    ¡°Whether his memory is lost or not, we will need him to take the time to recreate the book at the very least. We should endeavour to stay on his good side and allow him to return to the University, under watch, of course.¡±

    ¡°A bleeding heart, that one?¡±

    ¡°Very much so. It seems that he found his morality at a pivotal moment when I was too occupied to stop him from burning it.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s categorize that as a ¡®happy accident,¡¯ shall we?¡±

    ¡°If you say so.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any other issues you¡¯d like to raise?¡±

    When Veronica entered the inconspicuous office building when she returned to the capital, she noticed that at least two of the offices were emptied, with their brass nameplates removed and their contents left out in the hallway. Veronica needn¡¯t ask Frankfort what happened to them. Nobody suddenly disappeared from the WISA building unless they were being dealt with. Given the incredible sensitivity of what happened in the office, they weren¡¯t in a cell awaiting trial either.

    ¡°No. I¡¯ve said my piece.¡±

    Frankfort nodded.

    ¡°Very well. Thank you for your service as always. Take a few weeks and heal.¡±

    Veronica stiffly pushed herself back out of the chair and bowed politely, before turning and making an urgent move for the door. She was under no illusions about what was going on. Being dismissed did not mean that Frankfort had nothing she was concerned about.

    ¡°Oh, and one more thing...¡±

    Veronica froze with her hand reaching out for the handle.

    ¡°...Did you see anyone else at the fort? The police found bodies that were penetrated with a calibre of round that none of the weapons on site were chambered for.¡±

    ¡°I may have heard gunshots ¨C but I assumed that it was simply the cult tearing itself to pieces.¡±

    ¡°I see. Enjoy your holiday, Miss Gladwell.¡±

    Veronica stepped out of the office and stared across the way. Facing her was another clouded glass wall. From end to end, the entire floor of the building was dominated by screens designed to obfuscate. She hooked a left and started the walk down the steps until she passed through the lobby.

    Even hearing Frankfort give her a pass for failing to retrieve the book wasn¡¯t enough to make her feel any better about the situation. From an outsider¡¯s perspective, she didn¡¯t have many reasons to be upset. The nobles were safe, the cult was dismantled, and the collateral damage was kept to a minimum.

    What really upset Veronica was how Maria toyed with her. She¡¯d clearly learnt that keeping her enemies close was a good strategy. Maria didn¡¯t lose that fight, even with her injuries. She won handily. She put on the perfect show to sway Genta into destroying his family¡¯s book, exposing the violence that boiled underneath her calm and mature exterior. Every detail, from her attacks to the way she moved Veronica through the courtyard was made with intent.

    There was never a chance of him giving the book to her having seen that. There was no sugar-coating it. Maria outplayed her. From the very moment that she conceded and allowed her to come along, the outcome was determined. She was always calculating her next move ¨C and never once did she let her out of her sight.

    Too many questions stood without answers.

 Chapter 104

    I didn¡¯t get the chance to speak with the others after that. Adrian made himself scarce the first chance he got. Max¡¯s Father was also overly eager to leave the police camp and get back to their estate so he could overlook the clean-up process. Claude was forced to go with them back to his home ¨C seeing the town they believed was safe was actually the location of the Scuncath HQ.

    That was irritating. I wanted to have the last word on what happened and try to control the release of information. I was in no condition to go running after them, so I was forced to lay there and worry about what was happening during my incapacitation. There was one notable person who was sticking around until I was healthy enough to leave.

    Damian.

    I slept for several hours into the night and awoke late the next morning. He was sitting on the stool next to my cot with a pensive expression. Even when he noticed that I was awake, he refrained from saying a word to me until I spoke first.

    ¡°Hello, Father.¡±

    I shuffled towards the top end of the cot and sat up. Even after a full night¡¯s sleep, I could still feel my centre of gravity being kicked from pillar to post. The bruises and lumps were settling in and really putting the hurt on me.

    He sighed and cupped his face, ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ name did she do to you?¡±

    ¡°She punched me.¡±

    ¡°Yes. I saw that.¡±

    I stared at him through my one good eye and waited, and waited, and waited some more. I was hoping that he would be the one to steer the conversation so that I wasn¡¯t the one who had to break the ice. That was too optimistic. It was obvious that Damian was going to struggle to put what he felt into words. His ex-lover, who was a member of the government¡¯s secret police, showed up out of the blue and beat her daughter until she looked like a cauliflower.

    Not exactly the reunion he was hoping for.

    All of this complex family history was secondary to me. I didn¡¯t have any particular affection for the woman ¨C given that we¡¯d never met before. She was a stranger to me and in the case of recovering the book, an obstacle to get around. It would be out of character for me to not be curious about her. I had to think about what other people expected from me, rather than going with my gut instinct and acting as I pleased.

    ¡°That woman...¡± Damian started.

    ¡°I already know who that woman is. She¡¯s Gwyneth, isn¡¯t she?¡±

    Damian peered out from between his fingers, ¡°You knew?¡±

    ¡°Honestly. I was only blinded after seeing her. I would have to be a tremendous fool not to notice the resemblance between us.¡±

    That sent Damian for a loop. He was planning on trying to break the news to me gently, in a roundabout kind of way. Now he had to scupper those plans and try to come up with an acceptable way to explain why she was absent for my entire life. He sat there in silence yet again and attempted to recollect himself.

    ¡°I suppose that you¡¯re curious as to why we aren¡¯t together.¡±

    No. I already knew that too ¨C but I didn¡¯t want to give away that I was working with her the entire time to infiltrate the fort and rescue him. This was going to be difficult enough without introducing that concept into the conversation. I had to ask for the sake of my character.

    ¡°I know what you want to say. Let¡¯s not dance around the issue. Who is she, really?¡±

    All of the times he mentioned Gwyneth - he acted as if she was dead. For him, it was more convenient to pretend that it was a touchy subject since he didn¡¯t have many actual stories of what they did together. I imagined that most were too sensitive in nature and gave away too many details, or that the lion¡¯s share of their time was spent trying to hide from the secret police.

    Thus, he constructed a carefully worded web of lies and half-truths to surround himself with. Half-truths that were easy to remember and prevented him from slipping up, exactly as I did when it came to dealing with Samantha.

    ¡°What you have to understand is that she and I agreed to this. We both believed that it would be safer and better for you to never know about her. It seems that my hand is now forced. You may already know, but during the Civil War, she was working for the monarchy¡¯s secret police. They were rumoured to make enemies of the state disappear, but as far as I was concerned, she was a messenger sent to business people like me to secure support for the war effort.¡±

    ¡°She never touched you?¡±

    ¡°No. They used a lot of different approaches. Some factory owners were more receptive to persuasion than others. It did not matter what I chose to do. I could hardly pick up the factories and move them somewhere else, and many livelihoods depended on the income they generated.¡±

    ¡°I understand all of that ¨C but how exactly did you become romantically involved?¡±

    He sheepishly groomed his beard with the tips of his fingers, ¡°To be frank, I don¡¯t know. We saw a lot of each other during the conflict. At first, I thought her affections were merely manipulation designed to make me cooperate with the monarchists, but this was after I already agreed to produce what they wanted. She saw something in me that she liked, and it was enough to drive her to break rank and do something that she was not permitted to.¡±

    ¡°Start a relationship.¡±

    ¡°Correct. The secret police had a strict code of conduct for their members. They were not permitted to fraternize with their targets. Their loyalty had to remain with the crown come what may. After the Civil War concluded, we met on several occasions despite the risks that came with it. And then... she became pregnant.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t possibly imagine what her reaction to that was.

    ¡°At first, she was overjoyed, but that excitement was soon snuffed into nothingness by the realization that evidence of her betrayal would be clear to them. Even minor infractions would result in summary execution. So, she and I came up with a plan to evade their eyes for long enough to deliver you.¡±

    ¡°How did you manage that?¡±

    ¡°Having her disappear from duty for nine months would be too obvious. She continued to work with them for three months before staging her desertion on one of her operations. We whisked her away to the estate and kept her concealed on the grounds for the rest of her pregnancy. She chose the right time to do so. During that period the secret police were being reorganized and placed under the authority of the civilian government. They didn¡¯t have the resources or care to find one missing agent.¡±

    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t be pleased with her vanishing into thin air.¡±

    He grimaced, ¡°That was the risk that Gwyneth chose to take, for the sake of ensuring that you were allowed to live the childhood she did not. She was going to beg forgiveness, rather than spend the rest of her days in hiding. The moment you were born ¨C she packed her things and left the estate for good. We both agreed that it was the best course of action. Even the simple knowledge of who she is comes with a looming danger.¡±

    ¡°Do you really believe that? Or is it simply convenient to say that¡¯s the case?¡±

    ¡°The organization she used to work for? I have no doubt in my mind that they would have killed me, you and her if they discovered why she went missing.¡±

    ¡°And she told you that.¡±

    Damian shook his head, ¡°I had no reason to doubt her assertions. She was stringently honest with me after the war.¡±

    ¡°What about WISA?¡±

    ¡°I presume the public-facing agency is less violent than the one that preceded it. As you might guess, I have not spoken to her since that day. I have no way of knowing for certain. Gwyneth was convinced that the best course of action was to keep you away from her with a zero-tolerance policy. No matter how badly she wished to have a normal life with us, she sacrificed her own desires for our sakes.¡±

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    And there we had it, the full, unredacted truth about why my Father was entangled with a monarchist assassin. Damian could be a charming man when he tried, but it still confounded me that a woman like her would become interested in him. Not only that, but interested enough to risk being killed by the agency she worked for. There was no accounting for taste.

    Veronica, or Gwyneth, wasn¡¯t completely full of crap after all. Damian was backing up what she said to me before we arrived at the fort. All of this was intended to protect me by shrouding me in ignorance. It may have worked on anyone else, or under different circumstances, but Veronica and Damian never accounted for the interference of an unseen deity. If I were the original Maria from the game, I wouldn¡¯t have the skills, the resources or the drive to go seeking her out.

    Damian chuckled, ¡°I thought being a single father would be simple with servants at my beck and call ¨C but I was always worried about steering you down the right path. You¡¯ve grown so much in the past three years that it¡¯s almost difficult to believe that you¡¯re the same girl.¡±

    I averted my eyes and tried not to show any reaction to what he said. The fact of the matter was that I was not the ¡®same girl.¡¯ Durandia claimed to have created this vessel for me. Damian was confident that I was his daughter, so it was more likely that she somehow interfered in the process and prevented a ¡®soul¡¯ from taking root in the physical body.

    Souls and second lives were not things I believed in during my first go around. For a long time, I was convinced that this was the last delusion of my brain moments before my death. Why else would this second chance take the form of a game I was familiar with? After years of living as Maria, those doubts were increasingly scant. It was too real. There were no discrepancies from what I could see.

    How could she encapsulate all that I was into a vessel that could be moved from place to place? The spirit was not where memories were made and stored. A human being is a collection of experiences and electrical signals shooting between nodes in an infinitely complex structure we call the brain. For all of her power, I could not see Durandia perfectly replicating that and making adjustments as needed.

    She was simultaneously so powerful and wise that she could reincarnate me, but also too weak to intervene and correct this world¡¯s problems without speaking through an amplifier, which she had to direct Sir Snow to construct. It was an infrastructure investment designed to make future contact with mortals easier for her.

    There was another, darker thought that struck me.

    Moving my essence from one place to another was the nicest way of putting it. It was also possible that the original me died there in the hotel, and my current self was simply a copy created using his memories. Some would say that it was a distinction without a difference ¨C and I had no way of confirming it, but it was an idea that weighed heavily on me as the years wore on.

    ¡°I cannot understand your perspective on the ways I¡¯ve changed. It feels all too natural to me.¡±

    ¡°I realize that I have not always been here for you. I have many responsibilities that call me away from the estate. In this case, it was something of a blessing. Now I¡¯m left to wonder if I was too hand-off with rearing you. When you fought with Gwyneth back there - you had the same look in your eyes - and I can¡¯t pretend to be happy about that.¡±

    I remained silent on when and where I¡¯d learnt those skills. There was no easy way to explain it and no excuses that I could provide that would be convincing to Damian. I knew that the staff at the manor would send reports back to him about how I was behaving. If I disappeared or started acting violently, he¡¯d know. He sensed that he was going to get no answers out of me and leaned back on the stool.

    ¡°I came to the fort to try and rescue you. That¡¯s it.¡±

    He chuckled, ¡°While I appreciate the thought ¨C it would be better to leave that to the police in future. Now, I¡¯ve talked your ear off for long enough. You should get some rest. We¡¯ll be heading back to the estate soon.¡±

    He stood and left me alone in the tent. I laid back on the cot and stared up at the undulating fabric above my head. I had no end of problems to deal with now. Adrian and Max were the biggest ones. I¡¯d need to talk with them and find out what they were going to do, but it would have to wait until we returned to the academy for our second term.

    It was going to be a restless week.

    <hr>

    Picking up the piece of the estate was a distressing process for all involved.

    Damian was always personally involved with the staff. He liked having a group of servants, handmaidens and groundskeepers whom he could trust. It wasn¡¯t quite a friendship ¨C but he did want to give them all a good impression of him and the work they were tasked with performing. He knew all of their names. His face fell as he read the list of the deceased staff who were killed in the original attack.

    Damian ordered that their funeral expenses be paid in full, and for some additional money to be sent their way as a means of support. It was easy to be generous when you were a multi-millionaire businessman and industrialist, yet most still couldn¡¯t find it within themselves to dispense with even a tiny fraction of their total wealth. I credited him for going the extra mile.

    The estate was in a bad way. Windows needed to be replaced, walls cleaned, doors fixed, and decorative items recovered or swapped out. Certain rooms were worse than others. My bedroom was completely untouched, for example, but the dining hall was vandalized from roof to floor. It took two days for all of the refuse and dirt to be cleaned out and then they started replacing what was broken.

    Going to Channery and dealing with the Scuncath cut my break in two, so when the time came to return to the academy and begin our next term, it felt like I¡¯d barely had any time to relax at all.

    The bruises and lumps were less aggravated by that point. I turned down my Father¡¯s offer to remain at the estate while they healed. It would take too long, and I wanted to have my ears peeled for what the students were talking about. Still ¨C I¡¯d be walking through the doors with a heavy layer of foundation to try and cover the yellow splotches around my eyes and lips.

    It was unconvincing to say the least. It was obvious from a distance that something was wrong. The different shapes and forms that defined my face gave it an entirely different impression than what it normally did. At least I could wave them away with an excuse about the kidnapping of my Father.

    True to form ¨C the hot news on campus was exactly that.

    For every highly influential and wealthy noble who sent their child to the academy, there were at least two to three who weren¡¯t important enough to be threatened with kidnapping and execution via demon summoning. That meant there was enough separation from the events for them to become extremely trendy gossip fodder. These kids didn¡¯t care one bit about sparing anyone¡¯s feelings.

    The instant I stepped down from the carriage and started moving my suitcase down the main avenue, they were whispering all kinds of odd stories about me.

    ¡°What happened to her face?¡± one girl gasped.

    ¡°I heard that her Father was one of the nobles they kidnapped...¡±

    ¡°They must have tortured her!¡±

    ¡°But she doesn¡¯t seem to be bothered by it.¡±

    ¡°Obviously! Lady Maria would never let some brute crack her composure!¡±

    All in all ¨C it wasn¡¯t that different to what usually happened when I walked towards the main building. Security around the campus was even tighter than before, with extra police and hired guards outside, patrolling the grounds and watching the fences for intruders. Negative headlines about the academy were becoming a common occurrence and combining it with the flavour of the month about raving mad cultists would make it even worse.

    I hurried up the stairs and into the first-year dorm before they could stop and pester me with a thousand needless questions. It was difficult for the sour atmosphere on the campus to get worse than it was in the wake of the attacks at the party and theatre building, but this kidnapping story had managed to do just that. I crossed my fingers and hoped for a quiet few months so that everyone could reset and go back to normal.

    My Father did bring up the subject of the gun I was using at the fort, but he had completely forgotten that it was the one he¡¯d bought and buried under a stack of paper in his office desk. I successfully bluffed and said that I dropped it during the fight with Veronica, eventually sneaking it back into my trunk before we left the inn and returned home.

    His forgetfulness was legendary.

    The gun and some fresh ammunition were stored safely at the bottom of my wardrobe. I hoped that I would not need to use it for at least the rest of the year. How many life-threatening calamities could we get dragged into during a compressed period before it started to become too much?

    Thus, I found myself face to face with what I could only describe as a table of the damned. Adrian, Max, Claude and Samantha were all sitting loosely around the booth in the back-right corner of the study. Claude looked catatonic, Adrian was a nervous wreck, Samantha had bags under her eyes, and Max looked like he was about to rip his own hair out from anxiety.

    At least they didn¡¯t have a tenderized face like me.

    Max and Adrian could barely muster the energy to shoo me away before I took the last seat. They certainly woke up once they noticed that I looked like the rolling hills that surrounded the campus grounds.

    ¡°Bloody hell! You look even worse than you did back then!¡± Max declared with a harsh whisper.

    ¡°It appears that my coverup efforts were in vain.¡±

    Adrian sat up in his chair, ¡°Are you here to keep me from saying anything about what happened? You know just as well as I do that nobody is going to believe me. Claude doesn¡¯t even believe it ¨C and he was there.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°Claude doesn¡¯t believe you?¡±

    The junior detective leaned into the discussion, ¡°If something that important happened, I think I¡¯d remember it!¡±

    ¡°I already told you! You don¡¯t remember because you wrote it into that book, and the book was cursed!¡± Samantha griped. Her tone made it clear that she¡¯d held this same debate with him on several occasions already. Claude was always his own worst enemy, and this was further proof of my theory.

    Adrian cut back in and returned to the point; ¡°Anyway ¨C there¡¯s no reason to tell any of the gossip mongers around campus about it. What are they going to do? Come to my defence?¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s reassuring to say, I promise that I¡¯m not planning to shoot you.¡±

    Adrian was not amused; ¡°Oh gee. Thanks.¡±

    The negative air was caused by all of the trouble. The four teenagers sitting with me were not well-suited to combat or life-and-death situations. It was stressful. It would keep them up and night and isolate them from others. They wanted time and space to ruminate on the experience, but there was no time to offer and an awful lot of people who wanted to get information about what happened out of them.

    Lance, completely oblivious to all of this, approached the table with every ounce of swagger he could muster, planted his hands firmly on the surface, and asked a very silly question.

    ¡°Did you lot enjoy your holiday?¡±

    I turned to face him, revealing the absolute mess that Veronica had made of my face.

    ¡°Oh yes. It was fantastic, actually.¡±

    Lance clammed up. He backed away from the table and cleared his throat by coughing into the palm of his hand. He knew what he was about to say was inappropriate, but the momentum of his previous statement carried him over the cliff edge.

    ¡°Uh. Glad to hear it.¡±

    Samantha grumbled, ¡°Don¡¯t dig deeper into that hole, stupid.¡±

    Good words to live by.

 Chapter 105

    I kept a close eye on the bruising after that. Some ice in a towel was enough to combat the inflammation, and I could go easier on the foundation once it started to change to a lighter colour. The best part was being able to move my facial muscles without wincing on instinct.

    There was one problem that I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around.

    Claude swore on his life that I was not the person responsible for the shootings, at the academy, at the party, at the theatre, and at the fort. There were huge black spots in his memory of those events that essentially retconned me from them. He recalled me showing up and helping them out ¨C but not any of the specific actions that hinted towards me being a trained killer.

    Claude internalized this absence of memory as evidence against the admission. It didn¡¯t matter who said it; Adrian, Max, Samantha or even me. He was convinced with full certainty that he¡¯d remember me if that was the case. He blew us off no less than three times with a wave of the hand and a dismissive comment about us trying to pull a prank on him.

    It was mind-bending and infuriating in equal parts.

    This moron had spent the last few months insisting that I was the person responsible for all of the issues going on at the school. He was right! Now that the evidence was staring him right in the face, he refused to accept it because of the book erasing his memories of the day. Even that explanation earned incredulity from him.

    Samantha sighed, ¡°Claude really is a special kinda¡¯ bloke ¨C isn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°I was debating whether it was worth telling him again or not. I suppose it was a waste of time to worry.¡±

    Adrian and Samantha jumped the gun before I could make that decision. I got pulled along with them in the end and joined in, partly out of frustration at him denying the plain facts being handed to him. Adrian and Max weren¡¯t so interested in justifications as they were the frank admissions of what I¡¯d done. We hadn¡¯t gotten together and had a proper discussion about my motivations.

    Not that I believed it would help. The natural reaction from any outsider was going to be concern. It wasn¡¯t every day that you learned one of your school classmates was partly responsible for the crazy shit that was happening around you, killing people and sending the police on wild goose chases. I was waiting for the penny to drop. There would come a time when their having that information would cut against me.

    But true to form ¨C the truth had a bad habit of getting out whether you wanted it to or not. There was nothing I could do about it now. The only alternative would have been to leave them for dead, kill them myself, or let Gwyneth get away with the book and potentially give the military access to a lot of scary-ass demons. Meeting only two of them was enough for one lifetime.

    I was a lot of things - but a child killer I was not. Trying to compensate for my failings or secure my comfort by killing a thirteen-year-old was unconscionable. It was a red line that I firmly avoided crossing. There were few moral standards that a professional killer could subscribe to, and I never expected to get credit from others for doing so, but that was the way I liked to work.

    My judgement was the only one being appeased by this rule. I¡¯d killed Prier in seemingly cold blood. I wasn¡¯t earning brownie points with the police by avoiding killing children. I couldn¡¯t cash in my tokens to let that one slip beneath their notice.

    Even separated from that ¨C there was another matter to concern myself with when it came to Samantha and the other main characters. It was a matter of course that they would all be important to future events in some capacity. Meddling with them, killing them, harming them or alienating them stood to make life more difficult. Who else would save the world from evil than the main characters?

    Or me ¨C as Durandia was so eager to imply. This world really was doomed if I was the best option to fix it up...

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. He was the one person who was the closest to the truth, yet now he refuses to accept the credit for being correct.¡±

    ¡°His confidence in his memorisation abilities is stronger than his willingness to listen to anyone else. That¡¯s the problem. He thinks that there¡¯s no way he could ever forget seeing you shoot a man dead.¡±

    ¡°I figured as such. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. Claude is incapable of keeping a secret.¡±

    Samantha and I were sitting in the interior garden of the main building. I enjoyed this space more than the other areas. I could sit back and listen to people conversing about their lessons or studies, while also enjoying the fresh air and carefully cultivated vegetation. The ornate architecture that surrounded us on all sides was the cherry on top.

    The quality of the space was somewhat hampered by my fanclub. Most of them were socially conscious enough not to defy my wishes and invade my personal space, though some of the pushier members of the cohort didn¡¯t see an issue with randomly approaching me and acting like we were close friends. Being seen with Samantha worsened the problem dramatically, with those problematic girls taking it as a personal insult.

    ¡°You would rather be seen with this commoner than the likes of me?¡±

    That particular line was a favourite that they loved to deploy when they confronted me about it. I would handily dismiss them with a retort about exercising grace even when associating with someone from a poorer family. Who was left after that? The very worst that the fanclub had to offer. A pair of girls who seemed to believe that I was being blackmailed or manipulated by Samantha. They couldn¡¯t conceive of any other reason as to why I¡¯d spend time around her.

    Two such pains in my posterior were lurking around the edge of the garden. The first was a girl named Dalia, and the second was her friend slash clinger-on Wendy. These two were ardent members of the Walston-Carter Appreciation Society. They appreciated me so much that they wouldn¡¯t take no for an answer while trying to harass me into spending time with them.

    I always thought that Adrian was competitive - but Dalia was so much worse. She viewed everything she did as a competition to be won. She was the first one in the lecture room and oftentimes the last one out. She studied religiously on every bit of material thrown our way and openly bragged on the rare occasion that she topped the tables. During physical lessons, she would randomly start trying to ¡®beat¡¯ people in whatever low-intensity sport we were engaged in.

    Wendy was a wallflower at heart and Dalia brought out the worst in her. Unlike Dalia, it was difficult to demerit Wendy for her behaviour in class or around the campus. She was quiet, and studious, yet still possessed a burgeoning pride. She was the perfect today for a bossy nightmare.

    ¡°Are those two going to cause trouble?¡± Samantha inquired.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s acknowledgement of their presence was their cue to approach our bench. Dalia led the way with her typical sense of misplaced confidence - with Wendy hiding behind her like a piece of soft cover. I tried to put on my most disinterested expression, but if that worked on Dalia I wouldn¡¯t have had to worry about her.

    ¡°It¡¯s so nice to see that you¡¯ve healed from those grisly injuries, Lady Maria. The academy was aesthetically deprived without your full radiant presence!¡±

    From anyone else, that type of statement would have been sarcastic.

    ¡°If I were in charge, the brutes responsible would suffer the worst kind of punishment for daring to touch you. Drawn and quartered, and their tarnished corpses put on display to discourage the rest of them!¡±

    Wendy went green in the face at the violent proposal. Dalia didn¡¯t notice or simply didn¡¯t care. She finished her bold declaration by clasping her hands together and deferring the topic of discussion to me.

    ¡°Can I help you, Dalia?¡±

    Her eyes widened, ¡°Oh! No, no. I¡¯m not here to request your assistance. That would be far too presumptuous of me. You and I already stand at the apex of every mock exam. I simply wish to extend my condolences for the attack on your home.¡±

    I kept it civil; ¡°Thank you. I appreciate the thought. My Father was extremely upset by what happened. They killed men and women who had worked at the manor since before I was born. I suppose we should take some small solace in the fact that the culprits have been brought to justice.¡±

    Dalia was so, so close to walking headfirst into the brick wall I erected by mentioning the servants. I knew that she did not think much of the people who made her life comfortable. That was normal. Most of the nobles at the academy were entitled dirtbags who didn¡¯t spare a single thought for the people who kept them in clean clothes.

    Somehow, she resisted the urge. I foolishly believed that she was making progress. With that line of inquiry firmly closed by my response, she turned her ire towards Samantha. Normally her height and strength kept the nobles from insulting her directly, and my own reputation meant that the more socially engaged students refrained from so much as mentioning her with an ill word.

    To Dalia ¨C Samantha was a leech sitting in her rightful place by my side. She was not interested in hiding this from me or her. In her mind, direct confrontation was the only way the situation would turn in her favour.

    ¡°Is this farmgirl bothering you, Lady Maria?¡±

    Goodness ¨C she made that sound like a four-letter word.

    ¡°Honestly, what happened to your manners? Were you not taught to treat your peers with respect regardless of your personal feelings?¡±

    Dalia glared daggers at Sam, ¡°She is not my peer. She has a very long way to go before making a bold claim like that.¡±

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    ¡°She is not the one saying it. I am.¡±

    Wendy winced out of Dalia¡¯s sight, but she was too much of a doormat to warn Dalia that she was walking down a dangerous path with this conversation.

    ¡°Why do you endure the company of her? Surely, she must make for dull conversation. A girl like this is only good for cleaning up an animal¡¯s mess. She knows nothing about art, music or dance.¡±

    Samantha remained steadfast in her place. She was perfectly content to let me have this verbal sparring match to myself. She was good at tuning out people like Dalia, and she knew that anything she could say in response would only be half as hurtful as what I could unleash with my forked tongue. It was extra upsetting coming from a source that they respected.

    ¡°If you¡¯ll simply offer me the opportunity, I¡¯m sure that I can show you that Wendy and I are preferable to this boring country girl. In fact, I might be able to teach you a thing or two. Chess, dance, piano ¨C whatever you desire.¡±

    ¡°No. No. No,¡± I replied firmly.

    She crossed her arms and scowled, ¡°Are you afraid of my abilities?¡±

    ¡°What makes you so confident that I desire to waste my time competing with you in anything at all? You march here and demand that I entertain your company, yet the first and most essential element to earn that right is not spoken.¡±

    ¡°And that would be?¡±

    ¡°I find you intolerable. Surely a socially erudite noblewoman like yourself understands well that the most important part of keeping another¡¯s company is respecting their wishes and refraining from irritating them with needless annoyances. I came here to relax ¨C not to have a debate with you.¡±

    Dalia recoiled at my sharp tone. I did not leave any room for ambiguity this time. She annoyed me ¨C and I intended to communicate that clearly. I watched her face slowly progress from pale, to pink, to an irate shade of red. Half-formed words and retorts dropped from her lips but none of them were articulated in any real sense.

    Instead, she stomped her foot, harrumphed, stuck her nose in the air, and marched away with Wendy left to chase after her like a lost chick. The argument lasted only around a minute and I¡¯d firmly burnt at least one bridge during it.

    Samantha sighed, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you dress someone down like that for a while.¡±

    ¡°Most of them have learned their lesson already.¡±

    ¡°That part is weird to me. Why do they all still love you so much when you put on that combative persona?¡±

    ¡°When I came to the academy I made a severe miscalculation. I believed that giving the socialites the cold shoulder would keep them away. It seems to have had the opposite effect. They now view me as some kind of prize to win. The ultimate reward for persistence and good breeding.¡±

    ¡°Makes me glad to be a country girl...¡±

    ¡°You should be! I assume you¡¯ve never suffered the humiliation of a debut party.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of those, but I don¡¯t get them.¡±

    I groaned. Imagine the culture shock of being brought into high society, in a new body, as the opposite gender, and then within months being asked to rub elbows with a collection of total strangers at a fancy party for the sole purpose of potentially forging future marriages with other families. It completely dominated the first months of my second life.

    ¡°It was mortifying. A damnable obligation that none truly enjoy, yet we persist in subjecting one another to it regardless as a form of non-violent vengeance. My Father spent more money than a small nation on the party, and on the most lavish dress he could find. I could barely move in its confines.¡±

    ¡°Is that when you learned to dance?¡±

    ¡°The dancing was not the hard part. The focus of those parties is to make connections and potentially arrange a marriage. I was forced to stand there and greet every single guest and their child, whom they wished to dispose of by marrying into our family. Finding a single kind word to say to that parade of glad-handing morons was more than I could manage.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t even put into words how much I resented them. They were all the same. Preening boys and teenagers, wearing overly ornate suits and trying to look the best amongst the flock. The incentive to marry into the Walston-Carter family was clear. I was Damian¡¯s only daughter, and the one in line to inherit the entire family fortune and business upon his death.

    Damian would insist on a matrilineal marriage. He wasn¡¯t going to let the family name die out or leave it in the hands of my uncle ¨C who didn¡¯t seem so interested in having kids of his own. Matrilineal or not, my prospective husband would still accumulate a huge amount of wealth and influence by marrying me. They didn¡¯t need to have full control of the estate.

    Unlike in my old world, there was no widespread resistance to having a woman lead the family. If they were the eldest and in the direct line of succession, it was seen as the natural course of action. This world was more equal than one might have thought given the time period it was inspired by.

    However, there was still a reluctance to rely on matrilineal marriages. Some considered it ¡®unfair¡¯ to utilise that kind of guarantee like what happened with Felipe and Beatrice. It advantaged those with children who had no firm place in the family hierarchy.

    The families liked having their names stick around. You would never see the only son of a family in a matrilineal arrangement unless they were truly running out of living members and wanted to merge into another. All of the boys at my debut party were second, third or higher in line.

    What made the issue more complex was Walser¡¯s legal code. Families were at liberty to dispense their assets in any way they pleased via a legally binding will. While the head position was an informal outcome, this was how that right was exercised and controlled. Some families would always hand the controlling share to the oldest son, others were gender agnostic, and a rare few split everything evenly to foster a sense of competition.

    Those cultural factors were the ultimate decider on who the next family head would be. Girls could still be pigeonholed into domestic roles and insulated from the family business. This was considered bad practice ¨C as at least one major family, the Woodburns, suffered a rapid and stunning fall from grace when the last living member was left to control a business empire she was woefully unprepared for.

    The point is; none of them were tolerable company, the entire party was an awkward exercise at best, and I walked away firm in my belief that Damian having another child was probably for the best so I didn¡¯t have to deal with it. No way that was happening with Gwyneth doing her secret police stuff on the side.

    ¡°All I had to do was stand there and listen to them while looking pretty. You can guess what the more difficult task of the two was. I couldn¡¯t bear it. It was awful.¡±

    Samantha hummed, ¡°It isn¡¯t all that different from the harvest festivals we have in Channery. A lot of families see that as their first big chance to make an impression. It¡¯s a coming-of-age ceremony.¡±

    ¡°But a harvest festival is much more fun without the irritating constraints of noble trends looming over your head. It¡¯s all about etiquette.¡±

    ¡°You know, I¡¯ve always wondered, but you don¡¯t seem particularly attached to those types of things. Is there any reason why?¡±

    I chuckled, ¡°I¡¯m being honest with myself. Nobles don¡¯t do these silly things because they personally enjoy them. They¡¯re simply afraid to break rank and be truthful. The overriding priority is to separate themselves from the unwashed masses by ritualistically subjecting themselves to confounding tradition.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that all of our traditions are positive. It¡¯s also tradition for every adult to drink a worrying amount of alcohol until they can¡¯t see straight ¨C which is normally followed by a bunch of fights breaking out.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Nobles love doing that too.¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°Surely not.¡±

    ¡°Yes, they do,¡± I asserted, ¡°When there¡¯s money and pride on the table, and many of them spend their days lounging around their estates with nothing to do, matters can often descend into frank violence when you introduce alcohol to the mix. I¡¯ve been attending these parties for three years, and I¡¯ve seen no less than ten drunken scuffles and four bare-knuckle boxing matches.¡±

    ¡°Is that where you learned to fight?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°That was a joke.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Even though you¡¯ve been spending so much time with her, you had no idea?¡±

    Max leaned against the wall in Adrian¡¯s dorm room and stared out of the window. It was unusual for Adrian to speak with anyone unless he was trying to antagonize them. Max couldn¡¯t recall the last time they had a normal conversation.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really Maria¡¯s friend. That¡¯s Samantha¡¯s job.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t she hover around you regardless?¡±

    ¡°More than she used to. I never saw anything from her that gave me a big reason to be suspicious.¡±

    Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose, ¡°Prier, the party ¨C even what happened at parliament. She must have been the one who did all of that. She¡¯s part of the reason that my old man is in jail right now.¡±

    ¡°Do you have an issue with that?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. I¡¯m thankful that she put a stop to his idiocy before he killed someone for my sake. But I would be lying if I said it isn¡¯t a complicated feeling. I didn¡¯t know she was interested in helping people.¡±

    ¡°What about Prier? How was she helping out when she killed him?¡±

    Adrian thought back to the first term and reconsidered what happened. It was a stretch in his eyes, but it was entirely possible that it had something to do with his Father¡¯s plan to kill Felipe Escobarus. Around that time all of the staff were being quiet about an incident on campus, only for it to all come spilling out into the press once his body was found. The exact reason was never reported. What was reported were some of the facts of the murder case that was launched afterwards.

    For example, Prier¡¯s fingerprints were all over the gun that killed him. It was supposedly buried inside of a wooden box, concealed within the soil of the greenhouse. Prier was the teacher who spent the most time in there, and the one who kept the other key. It was his gun. It went without saying that he shouldn¡¯t have had one on campus. It was a media sensation. They were moving huge numbers of papers by dripping tantalizing details and unsolved mysteries into the public consciousness.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Samantha doesn¡¯t see a problem with being around her. She knew about this the whole time. What the hell was she so worried about for the past few weeks if it wasn¡¯t that?¡±

    Adrian sighed, ¡°Her electives?¡±

    ¡°I highly doubt that her elective subjects are more of an anxiety-worthy issue than her friend being a murderer.¡±

    ¡°Murderer? Whether I like it or not ¨C she saved our lives back there.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that you¡¯re the one giving her the benefit of the doubt.¡±

    Adrian was firm in his position, ¡°I¡¯ve known her for longer than any of you, even if I never took an interest in becoming friends with her. I think it would be better for us to ask directly and get an answer from the horses¡¯ mouth.¡±

    Max was worried. This was a huge secret they were holding. Maria, from his perspective, was a ruthless and mean-spirited girl. Her burgeoning friendship with Samantha was endlessly confusing to him. She was her opposite in every conceivable way. He briefly flirted with Claude¡¯s old theory about her blackmailing people to follow her orders, but Samantha wouldn¡¯t fall for a trick like that. She would have said so to him and Claude.

    ¡°I can¡¯t trust Maria ¨C but Samantha is as good a judge of character as you¡¯ll find at this academy,¡± Max opined, ¡°I¡¯d rather speak to her first and get her opinion on the whole ordeal. I¡¯m still shocked that you¡¯re taking a diplomatic approach to this. I would have thought that you¡¯d go running to the nearest journalist to tell the whole story.¡±

    ¡°Why would you think that?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been at her throat since the first day we got here. Remember all the times you claimed you¡¯d beat her at magic, and shooting, and whatever else you came up with? The only occasions you spoke were those declarations of war.¡±

    Adrian stared at Max for almost a minute without saying a word in response. That all felt like ancient history to him. A lot had happened since their first week at the academy. He went from a prodigal son to one of the biggest pariahs in the upper class. His carefree days of learning on his Father¡¯s dime were well and truly over.

    ¡°It¡¯s difficult to find the energy anymore,¡± he said frankly.

    It was more telling than he wanted it to be. Max¡¯s face dropped like a rock when he heard him speak in that depressed tone of voice. Too honest, too forthright. Adrian quickly turned his head back to the desk, where a half-written letter lay beneath his quill.

    ¡°No. I have bigger issues to worry about than beating Maria in sport. Hoffman claimed that my Uncle was the one who sold me out, both about the watch and where I was when the Scuncath launched their attack.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t believe that bastard. He was playing games with us.¡±

    ¡°But it makes sense. He¡¯s the only one who knows about the watch. At the very least I cannot sit here and hold my tongue, and allow him to have a third go at taking my life!¡±

    He screwed up the letter and tossed it into the trash.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the best way to do it. I cannot pry the truth from him with a vexatious letter.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t help you there. The police won¡¯t lift a finger based on an empty allegation either.¡±

    ¡°Aye. It seems that I have my project for the coming term.¡±

    These were exciting times indeed.

 Chapter 106

    Even though we were only gone from the academy for two weeks ¨C it felt almost foreign to fall back into the old routine of attending lectures and lessons. There was no obvious threat on the horizon to worry about for the time being, even though I knew deep down that Durandia always had another nasty surprise in store for me.

    I was already sick and tired of hearing people talk about the kidnapping incident. As if risking my life to fight off all of these evil schemes wasn¡¯t testing enough, I then had to endure several weeks of uninformed teenagers running their mouths about it and airing wild theories that bore no connection to fact.

    And Goddess above - those theories were something special.

    The cultists summoning a demon from beyond the Veil using a stolen book was already crazy enough, and the police who witnessed the Alchemist appearing were not speaking about it to the press. The gaps were quickly filled with less absurd ideas that generated just as much incredulity from me and other sceptics. One girl in our class was one hundred percent convinced that the entire incident came about because a lady from the Escobarus family had fallen in love with the cult leader. Beatrice was furious when she found out about it.

    Stories about aliens, demons and foreign saboteurs were one thing, but dragging other people¡¯s personal motivations into their mythmaking was where the truly absurd was formed. A lot of people couldn¡¯t accept the straightforward answers when they were provided to them. They had to be one step ahead of everyone else.

    I was speaking from a biased perspective though. I was there when all of this happened, so all of this talk seemed absurd to me. Even separated from my own experiences, it was rude of the students to tar and feather other people like that. But I¡¯d rather hear the students talking about the kidnapping crisis than my part in it.

    Max and Adrian kept quiet, which was a shock. Max was upright to a fault, always trying to follow the rules and keep on the straight and narrow. Adrian was a hot-headed loudmouth who was always trying to get one over on me. If anyone was going to spill the beans and blow my cover, it would be one of them.

    I was going to get a taste of what Adrian was thinking because he was waiting for me at the end of our magic period on the Friday that week. He hung back while the rest of the class left to go get food from the cafeteria. If he was afraid of being alone with me, he didn¡¯t show it on his face.

    ¡°I wanted to speak with you in private.¡±

    ¡°This is about as private as the campus gets,¡± I replied, sitting on one of the tree stumps around the edge of the shooting range. ¡°Whatever you want to know, I can tell you. There is no point in avoiding it now.¡±

    Adrian grimaced, ¡°The party and theatre, and the fort ¨C those are all incidents I can understand, but what possessed you to kill Professor Prier?¡±

    ¡°He was one of the people trying to kill Felipe.¡±

    His voice cracked and rose sharply in pitch, ¡°What? My Father hired him?¡±

    ¡°Yes. He was the first one to launch an attempt on his life. I was disturbed to find that one of the members of that gang had infiltrated the academy. His credentials were real, but his intentions were dark.¡±

    ¡°Unbelievable. He would be willing to kill a student for money...¡±

    I pointed to the main building to demonstrate, ¡°He was hiding in the clock tower after our magic lesson because he knew that Felipe would be there to teach us. When the bull rang after the lesson was adjourned, he timed his shot and tried to kill him. Luckily ¨C I noticed him in the window and pulled Felipe aside just in time.¡±

    My eyes turned to the damaged tree on the other edge of the clearing. His gaze followed my line of sight and caught on to the implication of where the shredded bark came from.

    ¡°And that¡¯s what the teachers were covering up.¡±

    ¡°Yes. We told them what happened and their only answer was to hide the incident from the parents and launch an ineffectual investigation. They did not want to run the risk of losing their tuition fees or blemishing the academy¡¯s reputation.¡±

    Adrian was pensive; ¡°And how did you figure out it was him?¡±

    ¡°I retrieved the empty shell casing from the clocktower, cross-referenced it with a selection of rifles from a hunting store catalogue, and then investigated the greenhouse to try and find one of them. He¡¯d buried it in the soil using a wooden box. He arrived on the scene and caught me red-handed, where he then admitted to his part in the plot.¡±

    ¡°So you just shot him, on the spot, without even thinking about it? You never spoke with him, or considered turning him in to the police?¡±

    ¡°He was being paid to kill Felipe. He¡¯d tried to kill me twice by that point. No amount of reason was going to work on him. It was either let him go and let someone be harmed, or handle it myself, then and there. I was not going to have Felipe¡¯s blood on my hands through rank cowardice.¡±

    In reality, my reasons were less noble than that. This was back when I was operating under the idea that karma was at play. I should have known with how the Prier situation played out that I wasn¡¯t here to be nice and make friends. Durandia always wanted me to intervene in my typical manner.

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to impugn your reasons for doing it. What I mean is, how did you find the resolve to bloody your hands?¡±

    I blew air through my nose and shook my head.

    ¡°Resolve has nothing to do with it. Violence is the final and most devastating kind of failure. To live without having to subject oneself to it is a privilege that should not be abandoned so readily.¡±

    Adrian didn¡¯t get the answer he wanted.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t what I mean. Back there at the fort, I was telling myself that I could be the one to save the day, but in the end, it was all just posturing. Meanwhile, you were doing the right thing. You stood up to them when I couldn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Everyone was already evacuated by then. The best course of action was to leave. There was no purpose in picking up a gun and trying to fight.¡±

    ¡°So why didn¡¯t you? It was that woman, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°She was your Mother.¡±

    ¡°I believe so.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean you ¡®believe so?¡¯ It¡¯s a yes or no question.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never met my Mother before. For years my Father has pretended that she died in childbirth. Not to belabour the point ¨C but I do not know for certain. He only confided with me later that she was my Mother, and given this life¡¯s propensity for bizarre occurrences, I am not willing to accept that claim without question.¡±

    Adrian grumbled, ¡°You always were a cynic. Not even believing your own Father.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear that from you!¡± I snapped back, ¡°Have you already forgotten what your own Father did a few months ago?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t argue with that. He, of all people, should have understood not trusting family more than anyone else. The memory of that fateful day caught up with him, and all of the bombast drained out of him.

    ¡°Regardless, my point remains the same. You should not envy me for having to do that. There is not a single speck of glory to be cultivated from debasing oneself in such a way. Do you truly desire to burden thyself with the memory of taking a life?¡±

    ¡°Is it worth losing sleep over the deaths of men who relished in the suffering of others?¡±

    ¡°You act like it is a choice to be made and not the natural consequence of killing another. Righteous or not - one cannot simply close their eyes and ears to it. The memory will haunt you regardless. You should celebrate every day in which we¡¯re allowed to live without experiencing a fresh disaster.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get you, not one bit.¡±

    ¡°It is not something that can be understood without experiencing it first. I already know that you are not one to take my word as a matter of fact. There is little reason to continue this debate further.¡±

    ¡°Do you remember them?¡± he asked, ¡°Do you mean it?¡±

    I sighed; ¡°Yes. I do. In the same way that you might recount the most important moments of your life up to this point, I recall the exact circumstances of each and every person killed as a result of my actions.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t just the Scuncath or Cathdra¡¯s killers. The men and women I crossed out in my past life were there too. All of that planning and anxiety, and the heart-pounding adrenaline that came with executing it. These were the feelings that made memories. It was impossible to forget any of those assassinations, nor did I want to. I was a ghastly man doing ghastly things. I always had to keep that in my mind¡¯s eye.

    Though, Maria Walston-Carter was no assassin. She was only spurred into action when circumstances demanded it, and Durandia didn¡¯t seem to have any issue with unleashing my destructive abilities unto the world she guarded. She was expecting me to use those skills for a more noble purpose.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    While I did accept that I was worthy of some form of punishment ¨C I still would have liked a shorter time period between potentially deadly crises happening in the vicinity of the academy. If it didn¡¯t slow down soon then every student was going to hightail it and never come back. What kind of visual novel would this be without any characters to woo?

    There wasn¡¯t much romance going on in the first place. Samantha, as far as I knew, hadn¡¯t launched into any of the ¡®routes¡¯ that I remembered from the game. She spent far more time with me than any of the boys she had to pick between. Thankfully, Love Revolution was the type of game where the neutral ending didn¡¯t end with everyone dying from miscellaneous circumstances. If there was a secret Maria route ¨C perhaps she could be going down that.

    But that was silly. Despite all of the similarities to Love Revolution, I couldn¡¯t shake the reality that this was a real place filled with millions of real people. There were no ¡®routes¡¯ here, just a complex web of interwoven relationships that made up the real world. Routes were too comforting of an idea, that if you walked a certain path and said the right magic words, people would get along with you no matter what. That wasn¡¯t reality. A certain sort of person enjoyed being confrontational.

    Adrian had changed a lot in the past few months, most notably since his Father was sentenced for trying to kill Felipe. It wasn¡¯t healthy. This was a guy who loved to compete with me and others, he was a total hot-head, but now that explosive energy was nowhere to be seen. He looked like he was enduring a serious depressive slump. I knew how demanding running a noble enterprise could be.

    Even if he outsourced the direct management work to experienced administrators, there would still be a constant flood of documents coming through his door demanding his opinion on every little detail. Three of the rooms in our estate were dedicated entirely to storing pieces of paper and various folders. They were filled wall to wall with cabinets, shelves and boxes.

    ¡°How are you dealing with being in charge?¡±

    ¡°Hm? Why are you asking that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m curious. After all, you did have the entire daily running of your family¡¯s business empire dumped into your lap with zero warning.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s child¡¯s play. I leave all of the hard work to the people at the farms and factories. My Father ensured that they were capable of running them without his direct supervision.¡±

    He didn¡¯t sound convincing even when trying to live up to that old competitive persona. It was the way his eyes shifted, and the slight quiver of uncertainty in his voice. He was asking himself if it was even worth lying to me about.

    ¡°If you say so. We should go and eat dinner before there¡¯s nothing left to claim.¡±

    The relief on his face said more than words ever could. He was hoping that I wouldn¡¯t press him further on that subject. Depressed or not, Adrian didn¡¯t want to show any signs of weakness to me or anyone else. His pride was on the line ¨C and thanks to his Father it had been tarnished to a significant degree already.

    I walked away, leaving Adrian to trail behind and stew on that thought.

    <hr>

    In a hidden nook in the main building, a small table could be found in the back corner. This was the space that Max, Claude and Samantha liked to claim as their own when space did not permit them to sit in the main hall. Claude and Max were already present with trays of food between them.

    ¡°Remember my theory about Maria blackmailing Felipe?¡±

    ¡°The one that wasn¡¯t true?¡±

    ¡°What if it was true though?¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t!¡± Max retorted, ¡°It was never true. That whole thing was because she and him were the only two students who knew about what was going on with Adrian¡¯s Father.¡±

    ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that there are too many coincidences.¡±

    ¡°Sure there are, and Maria admitted to her involvement in all of those things, which for some reason you can¡¯t seem to accept now that it¡¯s out in the open.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t wee up my leg and call it rain. You¡¯ve been arguing against my theories this entire time ¨C and now suddenly you unquestioningly believe what she tells you?¡±

    ¡°We saw it happen!¡± Max seethed, intentionally keeping the discussion vague for fear of unwanted ears listening to them.

    ¡°I¡¯d remember if something that crazy happened in front of me.¡±

    Max covered his face and tried ever so hard not to scream out of frustration. He wasn¡¯t particularly invested in the outcome of the debate in itself ¨C he was only angry at Claude for suddenly expressing scepticism when before he would have immediately jumped to foolish conclusions based on no evidence.

    Samantha rounded the corner and shook her head, ¡°You shouldn¡¯t bother arguing with him about it. That book completely wiped his memories.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t it erase anything else?¡± Max asked.

    She sat at the table and started to eat a piece of bread, ¡°It only erased what he wrote onto the page. According to Maria, the book was cursed a hundred years ago by the original author to protect the information inside. So, if the book got destroyed or something ¨C they couldn¡¯t torture the author to learn what was inside of it.¡±

    ¡°And Claude jumped the gun by writing his last will and freaking testament into it.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember doing any of that,¡± Claude asserted.

    ¡°Yeah ¨C that¡¯s the point, idiot. You¡¯ve got no less than four different people telling you the same story about what happened and why, and you still can¡¯t accept it.¡±

    When Max got annoyed with Claude ¨C he¡¯d quickly descend into throwing insults his way and trying to brute force a conclusion to the argument. It was futile. Claude was too set in his ways to accept an alternate perspective that relied on common sense or the weight of collective testimony.

    The book wiping his memories was too ¡®convenient,¡¯ which oddly, Samantha also heard Maria say in the aftermath of the kidnapping plot. She wasn¡¯t sure what she meant by that, given that she openly admitted to her involvement afterwards. Was she really so worried about Claude not keeping it a secret?

    ¡°Max, let¡¯s give up for now. I¡¯m getting sick of hearing this same argument over and over.¡±

    Max grumbled under his breath and returned to eating the meal he¡¯d collected from the dining hall. Getting back into the swing of lessons after a stressful experience was frustrating him just as much as Claude¡¯s new attitude. He and Samantha did not seem to be suffering the same problem. He would always find his concentration lapsing during lessons, and loud noises would startle him even when he could see them coming visually. The main offender was the academy¡¯s bell tower.

    The trio ate in silence ¨C at least until a pair of girls stumbled through the door with a fistful of dress shirt in each other¡¯s grip. Samantha leaned around Max and observed. It was Dalia and Wendy, the two girls who were giving her grief the other day about being friends with Maria.

    ¡°I know you talked to Clara and started filling her head with lies!¡± Wendy grunted.

    ¡°Where do you get the nerve to accuse me of doing that?¡± Dalia squawked indignantly.

    ¡°There was nothing wrong before you spoke with her!¡±

    Max sighed and put his fork down, ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ name are those two doing? I¡¯m trying to eat here!¡±

    The two troublemakers didn¡¯t listen to Max¡¯s complaint. Whatever they were arguing about, it had escalated quickly to the point where they were both tussling with one another, pushing, shoving and pulling on whatever fabric they could reach.

    ¡°You are a two-faced scoundrel,¡± Wendy retorted, ¡°I should have known that it was all an act. You see me as nothing more than a convenient toady!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me because you thought we were closer than your delusions suggested. You¡¯re always using that stupid shy doormat act ¨C but as soon as someone speaks ill of you it turns into this kind of violent outrage.¡±

    ¡°And you think you¡¯re any better? I remember when you ruined Agatha¡¯s ball gown because you thought that Louis Germain was interested in her! You made the entire thing up, whole cloth, and then called her stupid for being upset about it!¡±

    ¡°Ancient history!¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t bloody well forget!¡±

    Samantha leaned back into her chair and shook her head, ¡°That¡¯s the loudest I¡¯ve ever heard Wendy speak.¡±

    Claude nodded, ¡°Isn¡¯t she usually... quiet? Shy, even.¡±

    ¡°She came by our table yesterday and she looked at the ground the entire time.¡±

    That meek girl was presently getting into a physical confrontation with one of the academy¡¯s most infamous queen bees. Dalia had a bad reputation. She was one of the worst gossipers and loved using her social clout to levy unkind rumours onto other people. She also demanded a huge amount of respect simply for being present. Maria was one of her big targets at the moment. If she could get some of that elusive and solitary magic to rub off onto her ¨C then she could cement her position as the unquestioned queen of the school.

    Everyone wanted to be ¡®the girl who befriended Maria.¡¯

    The fight continued. Dalia pushed Wendy back towards the closest bookshelf and tried to pin her against it, but Wendy thrashed and squirmed, making it impossible for her to keep her down and assume control. Wendy was red in the face. It was to this absurd scene that Maria and Adrian wandered through on their way to the dining hall.

    Almost immediately ¨C both girls separated from each other and attempted to cover up the fact that they were at each other¡¯s throats just moments ago. Maria stared at them. Samantha thought they were both idiots, but she felt a little sorry for them having experienced that particular form of withering glare before. It was made even worse by the striking ruby eyes that she possessed, when the light reflected from them in the right way it made them look like they were glowing.

    There were no lies that could conceal themselves from her insight.

    She needn¡¯t speak a word to make both girls rot where they stood. They offered half-spoken excuses, but Maria was in no mood to hear them. She didn¡¯t care. She wanted nothing to do with them in the first place. This was theatre, Samantha realized, this was Maria playing her character to a flawless degree.

    ¡°You¡¯re in my way.¡±

    Samantha felt her heart skip a beat ¨C and she wasn¡¯t even the subject of that statement! Dalia and Wendy stood aside and snapped to attention like a pair of trained soldiers. They were a pair of mad dogs a second ago, and Maria made them stop with a glare and a firm hand.

    ¡°M-Maria! What a surprise to see you here at this time of the evening!¡± Dalia stuttered.

    ¡°It is time for dinner. It is not a surprise that I am here.¡±

    Dalia laughed painfully, ¡°Oh! Of course. Naturally. Dinner time. Of course, you¡¯d be here moving through this room, to reach the dining hall ¨C because it¡¯s dinner time.¡±

    ¡°Yes. You can go back to tearing each other to shreds, though I suggest you choose to do so in private in the future.¡±

    Maria moved past them and disappeared through the door. Dalia and Wendy were humiliated. Red-faced and with ruffled collars, they tidied up their clothes and parted ways without saying another word.

    ¡°Jeez. I haven¡¯t seen her do that to someone in a while,¡± Max observed.

    ¡°She has no patience for that kind of thing. That hasn¡¯t changed,¡± Sam said.

    The rest of the meal was awkward thanks to their display, and Maria did not emerge with Adrian again to provide a distraction. Sam parted ways with her friends and headed back upstairs to find some solitude in her dorm room. There was also some work to catch up on and that sounded like the cure for what ailed her, she wanted to keep her mind busy. What she found instead was a very flustered Dalia standing, arms crossed, by her door.

    ¡°Can I help you, Dalia?¡±

    The girl sneered and turned her nose up into the air, ¡°I hope that you won¡¯t speak about what happened earlier. The consequences could be severe.¡±

    Samantha approached, ¡°That would be a shame, but I don¡¯t seem to recall you having much of a problem airing other people¡¯s dirty laundry when it suits you. Muck flingers shouldn¡¯t demand to keep their clothes clean ¨C you know.¡±

    ¡°I can end your association with Maria at any time. Your horrid reputation will only get worse.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s your damn problem. You think the only reason I spend time with her is because I get some kinda¡¯ respect from the other students. I hate to break it to you, but lasses like you still treat me like crap anyway. If you¡¯re here to figure out the secret to my success, maybe start there.¡±

    ¡°Maria only spends time with you as a charity. There¡¯s no conceivable reason for her to waste her breath on... a loud-mouthed, boorish, lumbering, bespeckled, country-girl crap collector!¡±

    ¡°And yet she still prefers my company over yours. For anyone else that would be a cause to stop and think a little, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve got two brain cells to rub together.¡±

    ¡°What the heck is a brain cell?¡±

    Samantha navigated around her, ¡°Maybe you should start paying attention in biology class too.¡±

    The door clicked shut. Dalia was left to rue not having the last word in their argument, so she tried to make up for it by turning to face the locked door and shouting through the crack.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to know what a brain cell is! I¡¯m an heiress!¡±

    One of the teachers poked her head around the corner and scowled, ¡°No shouting in the dorms, Miss Dalia.¡±

    Dalia wasn¡¯t listening. She was already planning her revenge.

 Chapter 107

    Dalia gathered her war council promptly to field new ideas about knocking Samantha down a peg. Wendy was still keeping her distance, which was fine by her, she had some serious nerve to accuse her of spreading ill rumours without any evidence. Instead, she was forced to rely on two other friends; Rebecca Blackwell and Caroline L¨¹ttichau.

    ¡®Friend¡¯ was a stronger word than Dalia preferred to use. She saw almost all of her relationships as purely transactional in nature. If the girl she was associating with did not provide her with any benefits, she would cut them loose and replace them with someone new. Wendy was the first to take the fight to her instead. Dalia was still steamed over both that and Samantha¡¯s mocking words in the aftermath.

    That smug sense of satisfaction on her face was all the evidence Dalia needed. Samantha knew exactly what she was doing, sucking up to the most popular and desired girl in the academy to cover up her lack of good breeding.

    Rebecca was hesitant; ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s a good idea to mess with Maria¡¯s friend?¡±

    ¡°That charity case is not Maria¡¯s friend. Maria would never dare be seen with a girl like her unless she was forced into it.¡±

    ¡°She is seen with her - all the time,¡± she observed. Maria was not shy about it by any means.

    Caroline was also being a wet blanket, ¡°Rebecca is right. She keeps a close circle of friends. Beatrice, Felipe, Talia, Samantha. She does not seem to be ashamed of being seen with them.¡±

    Dalia glared, ¡°And I simply must take issue with Talia having that name. Did her parents have the good sense to check with our family before using it? I was born two months before her!¡±

    Rebecca sighed, ¡°They sound completely different. Are you honestly worried about people confusing your names? And did you honestly ask for her birthdate just to confirm that?¡±

    Dalia smiled, ¡°Naturally. If there is information to be gathered that might be of use, then it is my duty to do so. My elder brother is an experienced lawyer, and he is always one to stress the importance of laying the rhetorical foundation of your case.¡±

    Rebecca and Caroline shared a weary look. Dalia wasn¡¯t going to take Talia to court for having a name that was too similar to hers, to even imply that her mud-slinging came with that kind of sophistication was an insult to her brother¡¯s hard work. The two girls had no moral opposition to it, of course, they were here to muddy the waters all the same.

    ¡°Now, do you two know anything about Samantha that we can use against her?¡±

    Rebecca was the first up to the plate.

    ¡°She scares me.¡±

    Dalia groaned, ¡°We can¡¯t use that against her!¡±

    ¡°I felt like it needed to be stated clearly. She¡¯s really scary.¡±

    There was no single noble girl willing to even risk harassing Samantha physically. She was the tallest girl in the year by a significant margin, and years of hard work on the farm meant she could (theoretically) contort any of their bodies into a delightfully morbid recreation of the balloon animals one might have found at festivals within the city.

    ¡°That¡¯s why we use our words ¨C Rebecca. When have we ever debased ourselves by trying to fight someone?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you fight with Wendy yesterday?¡±

    Dalia roared, ¡°She was the one who started it!¡±

    The other girls shied away and resolved not to bring her up again. That was a raw nerve that Dalia did not want to be touched at the moment.

    ¡°Now, I¡¯m talking about her personality. Surely there are tales of woe from people unfortunate enough to be forced into her company. Her table manners, cleanliness, her oratory skills, those are not things taught to tawdry country girls.¡±

    Rebecca nodded, ¡°Her table manners! Let me think. Frankford told me that he was seated next to her during the term start dinner.¡±

    ¡°Oh? That sounds interesting.¡±

    ¡°He said that Samantha had already learnt how to utilise all of the different utensils.¡±

    Dalia covered her face in despair. She was hoping to hear that Samantha proved herself to be a boorish and messy eater, who refused to adapt to the high standards of the academy. Instead ¨C Rebecca could only regale a measure of her willingness to learn.

    ¡°And she did not splash herself with the soup?¡±

    ¡°No. None of it even landed on the tablecloth, at that.¡±

    Caroline gasped.

    ¡°I need negative impressions, not good ones! Caroline, do you have a story?¡±

    Caroline stood up from her spot on the bed and wracked her brain.

    ¡°Uh. I heard that she bumped into Philomena and knocked her to the floor a few weeks ago.¡±

    ¡°A brutish assault of a small girl! Perfect.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but then she helped her back to her feet and apologized profusely. There was no harm done.¡±

    Dalia almost ran across the room and strangled her for leading her on.

    ¡°What is wrong with you two? Do you honestly not have a single story about Samantha that we can tar and feather her with? There¡¯s no such thing as a girl without a secret or three!¡±

    Rebecca and Caroline shrugged. They hadn¡¯t heard a single negative story about Samantha that wasn¡¯t rooted in her background as a farm girl admitted through the scholarship programme. By all accounts, she was kind, intelligent, ambitious and well-behaved. It was easy to mock her from a high-minded position, but the kind of real dirt that Dalia desperately sought was in short supply.

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe we do,¡± Rebecca conceded, ¡°Aren¡¯t you projecting a certain type of behaviour onto her because of her background? It won¡¯t work if there¡¯s no basis in truth to hook people. There might be people like us who don¡¯t approve of what she represents ¨C but they aren¡¯t going to believe any old fib we tell them. They know how she behaves.¡±

    Dalia was red-faced from sheer frustration. She thought that it would be a simple matter of gathering dirt about Samantha and recirculating it through her network of followers and friends. That transition from working on a farm to attending the most prestigious academy in the nation had to have resulted in some embarrassing stories. Even noble girls like herself were capable of making such mistakes.

    Caroline and Rebecca sat in ashamed silence, awaiting Dalia¡¯s next word so that the discussion could move on. Dalia didn¡¯t want to say anything. She sat by the desk and stared blankly at them. It seemed like now was the best time to address the Wendy situation.

    Rebecca was the one to broach the subject once more; ¡°Dalia, is now really the best time to be worrying about this? I know you don¡¯t want to talk about it ¨C but I think it is better to focus on the Wendy issue before starting a feud with Samantha.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing to address. Wendy and I are no longer friends.¡±

    ¡°It is not ¡®nothing¡¯ at all. Why can¡¯t you admit that you¡¯re angry about it?¡±

    ¡°I can admit that I¡¯m angry about it, but there is nothing to be done. Wendy took my presence for granted, and thus we have gone our separate ways. What else would you want me to do? I¡¯m not going back and begging for her to forget all about it. She was the one who started a fight with me!¡±

    ¡°If you say so.¡±

    Rebecca and Caroline were both convinced that Dalia was looking for a new enemy to distract herself with. Samantha served as the perfect scapegoat for her to unleash her righteous anger upon. The real question was why Dalia refused to confront Wendy. Wendy was a wallflower, meek, always following with the crowd ¨C which was why Dalia found her useful. It should have been a simple matter to completely trash her reputation.

    Rebecca was convinced that Dalia liked Wendy more than she let on. Caroline was on the opposite end of the spectrum in her belief that Dalia was too lazy to keep up a prolonged offensive against a girl who demonstrated her willingness to fight back both verbally and physically. Dalia only liked tussling with an easy target.

    Dalia had heard enough. She stood from her seat and waved the duo away from her bed, towards the door.

    ¡°Get out and don¡¯t come back until you have something useful to me!¡±

    Her choice of works, intentional or not, revealed that she only had one reason to speak with them. Rebecca and Caroline stood in front of the door as it was slammed against their backs.

    ¡°That Wendy fight has gotten to her head,¡± Caroline griped.

    ¡°True. I don¡¯t feel like doing work for her now.¡±

    ¡°No way. Not in a million years. Let¡¯s ignore her until she cools her head.¡±

    Dalia was so used to getting her way that she was now blinded to her alienating behaviour. A hard lesson to learn, and not one that would be taken any time soon.

    <hr>

    Not only could I not find a moment of peace in real life, but it was clear from the outset that I couldn¡¯t find any in my dreams either. I was out like a light from the second that my head hit the pillow, as always, but I soon found myself standing in a familiar hotel lobby.

    I was lucid.

    That meant I was about to endure an irritatingly realistic nightmare while stuck in my bed with paralysis. I looked down to the ground and saw my imagination recreating the moment that I died in the old world. It was more dignified than the reality ¨C there was a cinematic touch that my pride infused into the gruesome sight. This was the last stand of the man I used to be, and I wouldn¡¯t settle for it being any less than striking in appearance.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    What I found odd was how little the sight affected me. If this was supposed to be my own lucid nightmare then I was lacking in an understanding of my own fears. I¡¯d made my peace with how I went out. They caught up with me and I got greedy. That was the way of things when you worked in that dirty business.

    The lobby was formless. When I moved my gaze from one end of the room to the next, details and architecture changed like the tides. They morphed and shifted, and none of the lines drawn could stay in place once my mind discarded them with their occlusion. I sat down next to my dead body and stared at the back of my head.

    I should have gotten a haircut before biting it.

    ¡°My, my ¨C what an interesting space your mind has conjured for me.¡±

    I groaned. Were we really going to do this?

    ¡°I didn¡¯t make it for your sake, whoever the hell you are. It seems pretty rude to break in while I¡¯m enjoying it so much.¡±

    The voice paused.

    ¡°Ah. Apologies. The mysterious and brooding act is not the best first impression to be given under these circumstances. Give me a moment and I¡¯ll congregate a lovely body for you to look at.¡±

    True to their word -  a physical body manifested from behind the receptionist¡¯s desk and lumbered over to my position. They looked very strange indeed.

    ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°Call me a dream demon if you must. Or perhaps a figment of your sleeping imagination. I prefer to be called by my name. I am Xenia. I am one of the existences from beyond the Veil.¡±

    Unlike Durandia, Xenia appeared before me in a form that I could perceive. Despite their best attempts to create a figure I could associate with, there were still many rough edges to the guise. They were shockingly pale, almost white, with no blemishes on their skin. They were also extremely long-limbed. Xenia was around six and a half feet tall with a body that was far too thin to match.

    Their hair, eyebrows and eyelashes were all a vivid shade of cyan ¨C like the blue seas you¡¯d find around a tropical island. When they smiled, the sides of their cheeks and their dimples bunched up giving them a menacing impression. They had a masculine voice, but a feminine face. I wasn¡¯t certain if they understood gender beyond observing us from a distance. This was all topped off with a long, flowing robe of white silk that hung lazily across their body.

    ¡°For goodness sake. Can¡¯t I go for one month without a power beyond my comprehension sticking their fingers into the pie?¡±

    Xenia laughed earnestly at my complaint, ¡°Now that is a unique reaction! And to think that I wouldn¡¯t get to enjoy the surprise of hearing it had I used the same methods that Durandia does.¡±

    I was not happy about this. Having one of these sorts astral project themselves into my dreams was extremely annoying. I couldn¡¯t get a moment¡¯s rest in this place, even my dreams were being turned into vehicles for burdensome litigation. Xenia was surely going to have a lot to say in an attempt to make me do the thing they wanted.

    ¡°Durandia¡¯s methods are more polite. She even sent me a letter inviting me over for tea.¡±

    ¡°I am well aware.¡±

    ¡°For that matter - Durandia needed a special device to speak with me. How are you doing it?¡±

    Xenia steepled their bony fingers together, ¡°This is a very expensive exercise indeed! Durandia is always interested in doing things efficiently. That¡¯s why she directed Snow to create the catalyst chamber in the first place. I admire that about her ¨C but I do not have the same benefit of time and planning on my side. Thus, I spend my power more freely to speak with you now.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Why? I had a lot of things to tell you, but I realized that there was no point in doing that if you didn¡¯t trust me. The outcome of this conversation will not be what I want, but I prefer it to the outcome that would occur had I not reached out to you as we speak.¡±

    ¡°And what is it that you want? The real objective ¨C not the compromise.¡±

    Xenia sighed and planted their hands on their hips, ¡°If you must know, Durandia and I have a difference of opinion about how this whole ¡®interfering in the mortal world¡¯ scheme is implemented. I was one of the empanelled who dissented with the majority on bringing you here.¡±

    ¡°I understand. Unleashing a murderer onto a new group of people would make me think twice too.¡±

    Xenia laughed, ¡°No, no. That¡¯s not the problem! When you work on the grand scale that we do, a few hundred dead by your hand is... a drop in the bucket. How much the council cares differs from member to member. The more fundamental moral problem is tweaking the mortal mind to make them compliant. I felt that averting your gender identification was a step too far.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°What¡¯s done is done. I don¡¯t see how you can change that now, and to be honest, I¡¯d rather not endure the consistent anxiety of not recognizing the person looking back at me in the mirror.¡±

    ¡°That is my point. Telling you that I¡¯m ideologically opposed isn¡¯t going to sway you, and I did agree that something had to be done. I merely wish to warn you that Durandia is not pure-hearted, and she was not forthcoming with you because she values honesty. The Red Tree told her to do it.¡±

    ¡°Red Tree?¡±

    ¡°Sorry ¨C I¡¯m speaking over your head. That¡¯s what we call the Prediction Engine. Durandia is always consulting it. This is why I don¡¯t like it. Far from becoming wise and faultless, we merely become slaves to the design of that great machine, created by one of our own.¡±

    Suddenly we were in a pure white room. Against the back wall was a featureless black box that was around human height. The wall itself was decorated in a deep, crimson red, spreading outwards to form hundreds of large and small branches. A literal red tree. The striking contrast of the three colours was menacing in form. The sight seared itself into my dreaming memory within seconds.

    ¡°The room leaves a lot to be desired too,¡± Xenia joked.

    ¡°So, this is what it¡¯s like beyond the veil?¡±

    Xenia defused my curiosity, ¡°This is but a single space. Would you say that the bedroom in your manor is the full measure of the mortal world you live in? Mercifully, our reality is more beautiful than this abstract nightmare. Alas, we drift away from the topic of my visit.¡±

    None of this was news to me. Xenia was labouring under the assumption that I believed everything Durandia said to me. It was clear from our meeting that Durandia had her own motivations that drove her actions. I never once saw her as an unbiased observer. She had every reason to keep the facts from me if they benefitted her chosen outcome.

    ¡°Did you use the Red Tree too? You mentioned wanting a better outcome.¡±

    Xenia shook their head, ¡°No. To live is to march into the unknown, at least in my opinion. I already know a great deal about you and the situation. I am using my own intuition and making a decision based on that.¡±

    ¡°But if Durandia used this engine to see the future, wouldn¡¯t she know about this too?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re starting to understand the problem,¡± Xenia said forlornly. Expressing human emotion using a physical body was evidently new to them. There was an awkward disconnect between their tone of voice and movements. ¡°It¡¯s enough to drive someone mad! Layers of plans upon layers of plans, all caused by this machine. My peers seem to believe that it is more ethical for us to use the Red Tree for this express purpose, that we can predict threats and deal with them without sacrificing too many lives.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question. Does Durandia know about this?¡±

    ¡°The Red Tree combines behavioural simulations with supremely accurate physical recreations of the world in question. To answer your query, it is capable of predicting that I would reach out to speak with you behind Durandia¡¯s back, but as we are presently in a realm that does not subscribe to either of those laws, it cannot specify our exact words. Here, your mind is free to wander and let itself loose, and none of the world¡¯s physical rules are in effect.¡±

    ¡°But she can try.¡±

    ¡°Yes ¨C Durandia can try, but there is no certainty.¡±

    I groaned and moved over to lean against one of the blank walls.

    I hated this. This sucked ass.

    What the hell was this otherworldly being thinking when they came to me with this crap? I didn¡¯t care. I didn¡¯t give a shit. It was physically impossible for me to care any less than I did at that moment. All of this was meaningless noise drilled into my head by a group so high on the smell of their own shit that they thought I¡¯d go along with them out of the goodness of my heart.

    I didn¡¯t know who Xenia was. I didn¡¯t know what Xenia wanted. I didn¡¯t even know if Xenia was real. I could be making this entire story up to fill in the blanks and not even realize it.

    Xenia cut back in, ¡°Protecting the mortal thought is our most important duty.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±

    Xenia hummed musically, ¡°We can handle a lot of punishment. We can influence other realities using our powers. These facts are known ¨C but we are also vulnerable in the same ways that any mortal can be. When the physical is no longer a threat, what else is there to fear but damage to our essence, our minds? The ¡®thought,¡¯ the soul, the essence ¨C whatever you wish to call it. That is the most important belonging to any living being.¡±

    ¡°Cut the bullshit and get to the point.¡±

    ¡°I wanted to learn what side of the coin you fall under. Do you think it¡¯s fine to manipulate someone¡¯s basic being to bring them comfort, or do you believe that this sort of power should be restrained?¡±

    There was a scary conclusion buried in there. That one of the creatures from above the Veil could openly tweak with us without us knowing. Durandia claimed that the only change was to my gender identity to avert any serious problems with my new life. I went through a lot of toil and effort to perfect my persona as a spoilt noble girl ¨C I was fairly confident that Durandia didn¡¯t give me a helping hand there.

    I made a judgement. When I wasn¡¯t pretending to be ¡®Maria¡¯ from the game, I was my usual self. I couldn¡¯t identify moments where my usual course of thinking was disrupted by a stray thought. I had no qualms about using my talents to dispense with problems. Durandia influenced the creation of Love Revolution somehow to give me the knowledge I needed. She needed me ¨C the killer, and nothing more.

    All of that preparation worked. I blended into my new world and new identity and started to tangle with some of the history-altering events that Durandia was worried about. These were not the main events. A God wouldn¡¯t give a cold-hearted bastard like me a second chance if it wasn¡¯t a serious threat to the world at large. So far, I¡¯d mostly dealt with petty noble politics and man-made conflict.

    The Scuncath were an eye-opening experience. There were great and dark powers bubbling under the surface of this setting. The Book of Cambry contained information that one could use to summon an almost apocalyptic event.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea ¨C but I cannot say that I would act differently if I were in her shoes. One modified soul for the sake of an entire word, it¡¯s an equation hardly worth considering. You should already understand that I am not well-placed to act as a moral barometer anyway.¡±

    Xenia shook their head, ¡°You may have sinned ¨C but your opinion still has weight. To achieve a full appreciation of the universe and its many complexities, one must open their eyes and ears to many perspectives. You are a man who values results more than methods.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t this first-year philosophy crap? Durandia could kill me tomorrow for whatever reason and I wouldn¡¯t blame her. My life isn¡¯t worth every single other person living on this planet.¡±

    Xenia pinched the bridge of their nose, ¡°You¡¯re correct. This conversation is far too juvenile for a pair of beings our respective ages. Then allow me to leave you with this information. There are more individuals involved in this than just Durandia. The panel has already given their approval for her decision, but they can also retract it just as easily if she oversteps her bounds.¡±

    ¡°And did they approve of you speaking with me?¡±

    ¡°I need no such approval for a simple act like this. They will know that I have spoken with you ¨C but just as we have ways to predict the future in all of its boundless complexity, we have also developed methods to evade the watchful eye of the Red Tree. For example; speaking to someone inside of their dreams.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to reveal all of your secrets to me now?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m afraid I cannot. Even if I was willing, the description of how would go over your head. We have a lot of silly words to describe concepts that mortals don¡¯t worry about.¡±

    Our location changed for the last time. We were no longer standing in the white room where the Red Tree lurked. A thin layer of pristine water covered an infinitely flat plane. It perfectly reflected a nebula of different colours and moving shapes in the black void above.

    ¡°We live in a world of unfiltered emotion and pure thought. It is simply impossible to show you even a brief glimpse as to the reality of it.¡±

    ¡°Consider me curious.¡±

    Xenia¡¯s voice took a grave tone.

    ¡°I hope that your curiosity does not bloom in envy. When mortals learn of our existence, many become convinced that they are destined to become one of us. They feel in their hearts that the other side we exist within is a paradise, intended to reward their good deeds. They feel entitled to it.¡±

    ¡°They do say the road to hell is paved with good intentions.¡±

    ¡°It is. One might see eternal life and some meagre power as everything they need to be fulfilled. I¡¯m afraid that megalomaniacs will find the experience rather disappointing when they cannot directly interfere with the course of history.¡±

    It sounded like a nightmare to me. I didn¡¯t know what was waiting for me at the end of this second life ¨C but I didn¡¯t want to spend eternity as a spectator moving little pieces around on a board. With my free will confirmed for the time being, Xenia called an end to our impromptu meeting.

    ¡°I can rest easy knowing that Durandia kept her word, so long as you have no complaints?¡±

    ¡°I have a lot, actually, but they¡¯re not ones you¡¯ll be interested in solving.¡±

    Xenia laughed jovially, ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. I will leave you to your dreams. Have a restful slumber, friend.¡±

    I was subsumed back into the unconscious, unsure of how much I would remember of this by the coming morning.

 Chapter 108

    It turned out that Xenia was probably real. When our discussion finished during that lucid dream, I anticipated that the exact details of what was said would elude me. The opposite was true. When I awoke in the morning I remembered it with the clarity and detail of a conversation I would have in reality.

    The economics of that decision were murky. Xenia did not seek to sway me, and they claimed to not have used the Red Tree ¨C the device that Durandia used to make all of her predictions. With that in mind, it became a curious question as to why Xenia used their power in an inefficient manner to speak with me.

    There were two possibilities. Either Durandia expended a lot more power than Xenia did on a regular basis, setting the pieces into place and transporting my essence from one world to the next, or Xenia had no intention of utilising their own power in any great capacity anytime soon.

    I would have been happier to pretend that Xenia was a figment of my imagination intended to fill in the gaps left by Durandia during our conversation at the museum, but I could not discard the absurd so glibly in a world with magic and demons and all others kinds of oddities.

    Xenia spoke of internal politics, panels of peers, and other conflicting interests that drove their decision-making. It made me wonder what Durandia was hoping for when she sent me here. Was this world one of her own making? That would be an obvious and clear-cut answer as to why she desired to protect it from potential destruction. But she was all-powerful, at least compared to the likes of me, so I was uncertain what utility I served in the face of that.

    Communicating across the Veil was difficult. Durandia and Xenia implied the same problem. Perhaps, for whatever reason, they had lost touch with their ability to reach out and manipulate the worlds beneath them. The universe was always expanding outwards, further and further, filling the space between with an unassailable void. What once was trivial may have become almost impossible.

    These were the thoughts bouncing around in my head while I dressed myself that morning. The same old routine was executed on autopilot. Underwear, vest, skirt, shirt, blazer, hair ¨C in that order. Some noble girls my age would start to wear constricting corsets to make their waists look larger. It wasn¡¯t as extreme as the examples I knew from my old world and they weren¡¯t dominant as a fashion ¨C but you wouldn¡¯t catch me dead wasting my time squeezing my organs into shape to make myself more appealing to men.

    To be frank, I did the bare minimum to pass the social standards of the era. I was lucky that Maria was naturally beautiful in so many ways because it meant much less time spent preening like a peacock in front of the mirror. Some foundation was good enough to make people believe that I was paying a lot of attention.

    It was a running joke amongst the servants at our estate that at one time I would change my hair every single day. That was because I was trying to find a dignified style that was easy and fitted in with Maria¡¯s persona, and I was very bad at doing it. I ignored the uneasy feeling that blossomed in my chest now that some of those same servants were dead and stood from the vanity, ready to face the day.

    It was the weekend and the teachers were attending a faculty meeting cross training session. There was nothing planned, though I was confident that something would demand my attention if I left the dorms and wandered the grounds for an hour or so.

    I did not want to dedicate any more mental energy to thinking about Xenia. That was a waste of time. They were checking to see if Durandia had followed their recommendations and kept the personality tweaks to a bare minimum, along with a pointless warning about not blindly trusting her. Xenia said they knew me ¨C so why did they feel the need to warn me about the pitfalls of trust?

    I never trusted Durandia.

    Trust was earned, not given freely. Samantha was trustworthy insofar as she was a fairly na?ve country girl who was willing to take what I said at face value. It wasn¡¯t an equal relationship ¨C but there was no way for me to address the balance given that I was both older than her and more willing to commit to drastic action in times of crisis. She even willingly aired a fact that might have jeopardized our ¡®friendship¡¯ or turned me into an enemy.

    That fact, which Durandia planted into her head for a specific purpose, was not one I could assume was true. She wasn¡¯t above lying to us to get what she wanted. Part of what I said to her was genuine. Samantha was the morally upright member of the cast. She always did what was righteous even if it contravened the letter of the law.

    If she felt that it was time to cut me loose, then who was I to get angry about it? That she hadn¡¯t already turned me into the nearest police officer was already beyond what I originally expected. It spoke to her developing understanding that sometimes that violence could only be answered with violence.

    Samantha was a na?ve girl, but her having that information was one of the few ways I could redress the imbalance between us. It was her choice whether to associate with me or not. Now that I was assured that my presence wasn¡¯t specifically endangering people, that I was here to get in the way, I could leave that in her hands.

    Speak of the devil ¨C she was waiting outside of my dorm room.

    ¡°Good morning Maria, have you performed your morning run?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m taking a day to rest. Is there something wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nobody¡¯s shot at me yet - so I think we¡¯re okay.¡±

    ¡°Where are the terrible twosome?¡±

    ¡°Oh, they¡¯re busy. I don¡¯t know why. I was hoping you could accompany me to get breakfast.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡±

    If she was going downstairs, there was no reason to refuse. I always awoke bright and early before most of the other students. Samantha was the same, having lived on a farm for her entire life. I kept a strict schedule because it helped me get stuff done. It gave the added benefit of being able to choose from the full selection at the morning buffet. This was a high-class school for spoiled kids, but they could never predict which foods would be in short supply. It was amusing to see them adjust the ratios of what was on offer to try and get ahead of the herd.

    That wasn¡¯t a problem I ever had to deal with. Samantha followed me silently down the stairs and through the corridor that led to the dining hall. A few other early risers mulled around the building, but this early you would often only see the teachers hurrying to get their lessons ready for later.

    I grabbed my usual and waited for Samantha. She took her sweet time piling on as much as she could. I didn¡¯t comment on it, but she still felt the need to pre-emptively defend her appetite.

    ¡°What? I¡¯m a growing girl.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything, though I do have to doubt your assertion that you¡¯re still growing. Hopefully, some of that growth emanates from your body and is passed on to me.¡±

    ¡°I thought you liked being... cute.¡±

    The glare I sent in her direction said more than words ever could.

    We sat at one of the smaller tables in the back corner of the hall and dug in. Students slowly started to filter through over the next ten minutes, taking their pick from the still-full selection. I wanted nothing more than to get out of there before everyone started crowding around us and pelting me with questions.

    ¡°Breakfast with friends is better than doing it alone,¡± Samantha declared, ¡°Don¡¯t you agree?¡±

    ¡°Friends?¡±

    Samantha pouted, ¡°You¡¯re always straight-talking, but for whatever reason you seem incapable of admitting that we¡¯re friends. What else would you call a pair of girls the same age who spend a lot of time together?¡±

    ¡°Acquaintances.¡±

    ¡°Acquaintances don¡¯t eat lunch and dinner together almost every day. They don¡¯t teach the other to fight and defend themselves either. Does being someone¡¯s friend really upset you that much? I don¡¯t get it.¡±

    My ¡®problem¡¯ was that Samantha shouldn¡¯t have been relying on me to fill her friend circle. Not only was I technically an old ass man from another world, but I was also a trained killer. Samantha had a lot of better options than me ¨C but no matter what I did or said she didn¡¯t seem to catch on to why I was trying to push her towards more traditional options.

    ¡°Do you see me as a novelty?¡± I inquired.

    ¡°A novelty. Because of your wealth, or... the other thing?¡±

    ¡°Both.¡±

    ¡°Being rich doesn¡¯t make you a novelty at this academy. If anything, I¡¯m the novelty here.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need pity,¡± I insisted, ¡°If you think I¡¯m in over my head and need help, then I¡¯m afraid that you are mistaken. There is nothing more to be done about it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m well aware that between the two of us, you¡¯re the one who gets into the fights. If you say that you don¡¯t need emotional support or a shoulder to cry on, I¡¯ll listen to your request and keep my distance. I think you¡¯re an interesting person ¨C and nobody else at the academy seemed to understand what you were looking for in a friend.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t looking for friends at all. You know, because of the ¡®other thing.¡¯¡±

    Samantha nodded, ¡°Yes, yes. The other thing, but you changed your mind. So why not cut loose and make some friends?¡±

    ¡°Even if I wanted to, I find most of the people at this academy impossible to get along with. I understand that it sounds silly but I do not enjoy the company of people who are in a similar situation to me. I already have a lot of money. I do not need relationships predicated on the idea of making more of it.¡±

    That marked me firmly as an outlier though. All of the kids in the academy considered themselves extremely talented at playing ¡®the game.¡¯ That being the art of making backroom deals, cosying up to people in influential places, and making their huge amounts of wealth turn into even more money.

    They weren¡¯t. The high-pressure environment did demand that they grow up fast, but they were still ignorant in a lot of ways. They could fall victim to all sorts of popular myth-making and misconception. Relationships that they felt were set in stone were nothing more than a passing fancy. Power couples, lauded and celebrated, came and went like the sun rose in the morning and set in the evening.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    There was no doubt in my mind that they were petty enough to take these school experiences forward, shaping the future image of the Walserian nobility for decades to come, but the practical impact of their independent actions at the academy was close to nil.

    Samantha shrugged, ¡°I should be proud to have scored such a highly desired place, then.¡±

    ¡°You should.¡±

    Samantha sighed as I undercut her sarcasm. It was a favourite strategy of mine because it irritated her and tied into my persona. She was starting to catch on to the fact that I was doing it on purpose after hearing it so many times. The hall was starting to fill up, and who would walk through the door but Claude, sans Max on this occasion. He ignored the skirmish at the buffet and approached our table with narrowed eyes.

    ¡°Claude? I thought you were busy.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t need to stay behind as long as Max did. I decided to come and grab some food before it¡¯s too late. But what do we have here? The most sought-after girl at the academy, eating a meal with public enemy number one.¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°I¡¯m public enemy number one?¡±

    ¡°You are when they see you with Maria,¡± Claude observed. He was right. I¡¯d never seen so many glowers of jealousy in one place.

    Claude pointed to his eyes with two of his fingers and then turned them in my direction.

    ¡°I¡¯m watching you. What¡¯s your little game in getting all buddy-buddy with Samantha?¡±

    ¡°My game?¡± I echoed mockingly, ¡°It turns out that Samantha is the heiress to an incredible fortune, and I¡¯m positioning myself to steal it from her once the will is due to be read.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    I laughed in his face, ¡°No. I made that up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already onto you, Maria. Behind every smile is a bared dagger.¡±

    ¡°Cute ¨C did you steal that from one of your detective novels?¡±

    ¡°So what if I did?¡± he replied defensively.

    Claude was already kind of annoying, but this new schtick of having suspicions about me and eyewitness testimony that he was completely unwilling to believe was an entirely new level of irritating. If only he hadn¡¯t written that stuff into the book at the fort. When I told him about what happened and he refused to accept it, I knew he was a lost cause. If I were playing the visual novel ¨C I¡¯d be very upset about a plot development like this.

    It was bad comedy.

    And as if the peaceful morning atmosphere wasn¡¯t already spoiled enough by Claude ¨C Wendy and Dalia walked through the two doors on the left side of the hall at the same time. Without delay, they began to argue and attract an awful lot of attention from the surrounding students. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

    ¡°Let¡¯s leave. I¡¯m starting to get a headache.¡±

    Samantha followed me in a hurry, leaving Claude to get his food and ruminate on his new pet theories about what evil I was cooking up this time.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that they started fighting as soon as they saw each other.¡±

    ¡°I can. Once the niceties are done with ¨C it¡¯s all about having the last word.¡±

    ¡°You do that too.¡±

    ¡°I know. I have to meet people¡¯s expectations or they¡¯ll start to wonder who I really am.¡±

    We emerged onto the back patio of the main building ¨C which faced down towards the gardens and the greenhouse. It was a nice day that we could do whatever we pleased with. Getting off-site was a lot harder now ever since they tightened up their security protocols, so we would have to amuse ourselves within the campus grounds.

    ¡°You know ¨C back there when you were fighting your Mother, that was the first time I¡¯d ever seen you make a face like that. Were you angry? Scared? Or... were you enjoying yourself?¡±

    I laughed, ¡°Enjoying myself? I¡¯m not so foolish so as to find any enjoyment in risking my life. I suppose it would be most accurate to call it stress. I make a lot of odd expressions when subjected to pressing circumstances.¡±

    ¡°Even though you don¡¯t like it ¨C you still get yourself involved.¡±

    ¡°I could hardly stand back and let my Father be killed by those lunatics. On the other occasions, it was merely a coincidence that I was there and ready to fight back.¡±

    ¡°Was it a coincidence? The Goddess does seem to have a goal in mind for us.¡±

    ¡°Then I would very much like to forward a formal complaint to her. It¡¯s inappropriate for a powerful being beyond our comprehension to rely on a pair of teenage girls to solve all of the world¡¯s problems.¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t going to speak badly of the Goddess. She was not the most religious person I¡¯d met during my time in this world, but I imagined that she still held a certain level of belief in her values and teachings. That dedication would be strengthened by having met her for real.

    ¡°It does sound a bit strange when you put it like that.¡±

    ¡°We should keep in mind that there is no such thing as a truly infallible individual. For as long as intelligent life, here in Walser or beyond our reality, have desires and goals of their own ¨C they are capable of making decisions that are not to everyone¡¯s benefit.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a particular reason to feel that way?¡± she asked.

    I always felt that way, but it wasn¡¯t because of Xenia that I was bringing it up now with Samantha. Xenia was the same. If anything, they were even less reliable than Durandia because they insisted on not using the Red Tree to see if they would get their desired outcome.

    Samantha answered her own question before I could; ¡°I keep forgetting that you¡¯re slow to trust anyone. Disregard what I said.¡±

    ¡°It is not that I am slow to trust. I simply feel that there is no good reason for me to believe everything I hear. These are matters of great importance, it would not be a surprise to learn that the Goddess would lie or mislead to ensure that the proper outcome is achieved.¡±

    Samantha recalled my training sessions ¨C where I stressed the importance of identifying people¡¯s motivations and self-preservation instincts. Words were cheap and easy to throw at someone¡¯s feet, but the stuff that really mattered was more tangible than that.

    ¡°If it¡¯s to save the world then I wouldn¡¯t be angry with her.¡±

    ¡°And if it gets us killed?¡±

    Samantha¡¯s face dropped, ¡°That¡¯s bloody morbid.¡±

    ¡°But it is the first thing of value that most people imagine. Without your life, nothing else matters.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be... quite upset if that happened.¡±

    Not that we could avert that outcome if their claims about the Red Tree were true. In a sense, the die had been cast a long time before we were aware of the game that was being played. That was frustrating.

    A new voice called out to us, ¡°Maria! May I speak with you for a moment?¡±

    I swivelled around and came face to face with one Louis Germain. He was a narrow, gaunt-faced boy who came from a pharmaceutical family. His most distinctive feature was a pair of round brass spectacles that rested atop his nose. He was in some of my elective classes, but Samantha mentioned that she saw more of him thanks to her focus on biology.

    ¡°Can I help you?¡±

    ¡°I hope it isn¡¯t a bother, but I was wondering if you knew why Dalia and Wendy are at odds all of a sudden.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°I rarely if ever speak with them.¡±

    ¡°Dalia spoke with Clara about a personal issue ¨C and the next hour those two were at each other¡¯s throats about what was said,¡± Louis explained, ¡°I believe it was about you, Maria.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t illuminate this manner in the slightest. Dalia swung by the gardens yesterday to boast about something or other.¡±

    Samantha added her own testimony to mine, ¡°I saw them arguing and scuffling in the downstairs study afterwards. Whatever happened ¨C it was on that day.¡±

    This petty school infighting wasn¡¯t my bag. Who cared what Dalia and Wendy were arguing about? They should have just kept my name out of it. Louis adjusted his glasses nervously.

    ¡°Ah. I don¡¯t want to be a bother. I¡¯ll leave it at that.¡±

    ¡°I take no offence,¡± I said, ¡°But Dalia mystifies me. Her primary method of trying to win my favour appears to be popping up at random and insulting me.¡±

    ¡°She does do that. She¡¯s good company if you get to know her.¡±

    ¡°I will have to take your word for it.¡±

    Louis bowed his head respectfully and left the way he came. I sighed and leaned against the stone bannister that ran across the patio. Whether I liked it or not ¨C my name was being invoked in this feud for whatever reason. Louis wouldn¡¯t have a reason to approach me if it wasn¡¯t. I could feel it in my bones, even though I kept my distance from Dalia and her crew, I was going to end up tangled in this schoolyard bullcrap regardless.

    Killing someone was easy ¨C understanding the mind of a teenager was not.

    <hr>

    ¡°All of that fuss and he got away without a scratch, unbelievable!¡±

    In the smoking room at the Walserian Parliament ¨C it was not an uncommon sight to find the industrious, influential and powerful speaking with the politicians who resided there. The ¡®smoking room¡¯ was often used as a euphemism to describe deals made behind the backs of the parties they represented.

    The house was not in session, and so Cedric Roderro made himself known to one of his oldest and most important allies, a dyed-in-the-wool monarchist and member of the Restoration Party ¨C Ferrand Chaplain. Both men enjoyed sharing a cigar, and both had extremely expensive tastes.

    That was perhaps the only thing that united them. Ferrand was no industrialist, and his primary source of income came from making promises to various people in exchange for funding. He was also a man lacking in the raw ambition that Cedric displayed so openly. Ferrand was more than pleased with what he had.

    They were squared away in the corner by the window, pulled open slightly to allow fresh air into the chamber while they smoked.

    ¡°It defies belief. I¡¯m telling you that he was vulnerable. He fired every person who worked on the estate. He didn¡¯t want to see or hear from them.¡±

    Ferrand laughed at his friend¡¯s misfortune, ¡°Aye. Aye. I can¡¯t imagine you saying something so heartless to anyone but me.¡±

    Cedric cleared his throat and spoke in a tone that dripped with sarcasm; ¡°Of course ¨C as his uncle, I¡¯m overjoyed that the leader of our fine house evaded harm in that most terrible of incidents!¡±

    Cedric was (in his eyes) rightly furious about how the plan had played out. It seemed to be going so smoothly! His idiot brother had gotten himself banged up in prison for the next decade and a half, Adrian was losing his wig trying to keep control of their business empire, and at one time he no longer possessed the life-saving watch which was passed down to each leader of their family line. Just when he thought that Adrian was about to see his luck run out, some absurd coincidence arrived from the heavens above to save him from misfortune.

    He¡¯d dreamed of this scenario for years. Cathdra and his insistence on not having any more children after Adrian was going to bite him. If Adrian died ¨C then all of the family¡¯s assets would go to him. He would be free to do with their fortune and their destiny as he pleased, as was his right.

    Ferrand was the one who positioned him to leak the information about the watch in the first place. They stole it, and were planning on using it to cement a plan to replace the government and restore the monarchy. One of the conspiracy¡¯s members lost her marbles at the last moment, killed one of the ringleaders, and allegedly used it to travel back in time. That was according to the stories that Ferrand heard from his contacts with them.

    They were oddly stingy about giving him the full story. The key points were well-known to the public. It was all over the news, and the amount of heat placed onto the other conspirators by the police in the aftermath broke their group apart before they could reform and try again.

    ¡°Did Cathdra¡¯s failed plan give you cold feet?¡± Ferrand asked.

    ¡°You already know the answer. It would have been perfect. Perfect! It would have been perfect if those cultists had killed him. I wouldn¡¯t have had to lift a damn finger, and nobody would suspect anything. It would be an unfortunate turn of events, a young man cut down in his prime. I have half a mind to take more direct measures.¡±

    ¡°And spoil your reputation?¡±

    Cedric blew smoke through his nose; ¡°Reputation is something that can be repaired.¡±

    ¡°And money is something that can be earned. If you trade in your family¡¯s good name for the sake of money, I feel that you will grow to regret such a transaction in due time. For your part ¨C the real problem is what might happen if the police start investigating why your nephew turned up dead.¡±

    ¡°I never said I was considering it. I¡¯m already too close to the incident for my liking.¡±

    ¡°Your brother¡¯s actions and the Scuncath kidnappings have sent the security state into a furore. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it. It¡¯s even worse than the Civil War. I have no doubt that they¡¯ll be quick to prosecute anyone who dares break the law at this moment in time.¡±

    ¡°You act as if they care about what we do.¡±

    ¡°I never said they did, but it will be exceedingly problematic for the government if the people start to question how nobody above their station is ever held to account for so many curious accidents. They do not fear us, they fear the masses. Violence has become a language many understand.¡±

    Cedric changed his tune.

    ¡°I never said I wanted to kill him,¡± he insisted, ¡°I merely wish to show him that the role of family head is fraught with dangers. The stress is clearly getting to him! I may just offer him a frank suggestion about him stepping aside and allowing me to assume those responsibilities.¡±

    ¡°The businesses are still legally his.¡±

    ¡°Then I will make him an offer on their purchase. Adrian is desperate to be rid of them, he¡¯ll see it as me doing him a favour.¡±

    ¡°If he hasn¡¯t already figured out that you were involved.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding me. Cathdra never taught that boy a single thing of use. If not me, he¡¯ll get chewed up and spat out by someone else, and they won¡¯t be half as kind to him as I¡¯ll be. He¡¯s got no idea how the world works. Not one bit.¡±

    Ferrand offered no further opinions on the matter. With his cigar burnt to a small stub, he extinguished it in the nearest ashtray by his chair and leaned back to relax.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s discuss another matter since you¡¯re so resolute on your nephew.¡±

    ¡°Please and thank you.¡±

    ¡°Say, there is a pressing issue that I would like to consult you on.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    Ferrand hushed his voice, ¡°It¡¯s about Church Street. You see...¡±

 Chapter 109

    ¡°What a devilish game she¡¯s created!¡±

    Max stared blankly at Claude.

    ¡°What exactly do you think that Maria is hiding?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, not exactly, but I can tell that she¡¯s a bad ¡®un from a mile away. My family has a nose for this sort of thing, my Dad, my Mum, and me.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t argue with that. You were right that there was something wrong with Maria.¡±

    ¡°Why are you still trying to trick me with that crap?¡±

    Max groaned, ¡°I¡¯m not trying to trick you! I¡¯m giving you credit for being correct about one of your hunches! We¡¯ve already explained this to you a million times over. Maria walked up to you and told you the whole story!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve spent the past decade pouring cold water over all of my theories. Sorry for finding this whole deal a little suspicious, especially when I don¡¯t recall the incident you all keep referring to. Don¡¯t you think I¡¯d remember that if it really happened?¡±

    Max was not here to argue with Claude again about that. The fact of the matter was that Claude refused to accept that the book had wiped a partial segment of his memory because of his decision to write about Maria on the back pages. It was a very Claude thing to do, now that he thought about it.

    ¡°Whatever. I¡¯m not asking her to shoot someone in front of you just to prove it.¡±

    Claude ignored Max¡¯s dry wit and placed his well-worn notebook on the table, flipping through dozens and dozens of pages of detailed notes and random stray thoughts that Claude felt were worth recording. Max understood that this was the universal signal for him to launch into a bizarre tirade about a recent going-on, passed through his ¡®unique¡¯ lens of it all being suspect for some reason or another.

    ¡°What are you flipping through your notes for?¡±

    Claude stopped on the latest page and flashed a toothy grin, ¡°I¡¯ve been looking into this Dalia and Wendy matter for the past few days. I heard from one of the other girls that Maria was involved.¡±

    ¡°Maria does not get involved in arguments like that. I don¡¯t know much about her, but that is the one thing I know for certain.¡±

    ¡°That might be how it appears to a uniformed outsider ¨C but the truth of the matter goes much deeper than that!¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°You see according to the people I spoke with; Dalia and Wendy only became acquainted recently, and that they were somewhat close. Dalia has quite the reputation for taking less-popular girls under her proverbial wing.¡±

    Max nodded and played along. There was no point pushing back on him now.

    ¡°Recently, Dalia has been making moves to try and land a relationship with Louis Germain. You¡¯ve heard of him before, I assume.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. His family owns the biggest medical company in Walser, or close to it.¡±

    The Germain family had gone from a minor noble house in the North to a complete powerhouse within two decades. They ruthlessly expanded into manufacturing modern medicine and vaccinations using new industrial processes that outstripped their competition. Suddenly, they were one of the big families to watch after spending hundreds of years languishing in relative obscurity.

    The second he stepped through the gates he was beset upon from all sides by a pack of vultures looking to get into his good graces. He was only the fourth son of the family, but even the faintest chance of getting a taste of that same success was enough motivation for everyone to aim for him. Max could relate. His family¡¯s huge sway over the international trade on the east coast of Walser attracted a similar kind of opportunistic interest.

    He recalled one girl who approached him during his first week and inquired about several personal subjects, before abruptly needling him for information about his share of the inheritance - due upon his Father¡¯s death - and how it could be leveraged with her own family¡¯s sugar business to promote increased efficiency and vertical integration.

    And who said romance was dead?

    ¡°Dalia said that she was friends with Maria to try and impress him ¨C because according to them, Louis has an admiration for the manner in which she carries herself.¡±

    Max laughed. Maria had so many different faces that there was no way to know which was the real one. There was the polite, doll-like, respectful, speaking with a peer face. The ice-cold, annoyed, being harassed by a chatterbox while she was trying to eat face. There was the malicious face that she brought out when it was time to lash someone with insults.

    The last face was a recent addition, though it stuck out clearly in Max¡¯s mind as the most distinct. The sheer delirium that he saw during her fistfight at the fort. Wide-eyed, teeth bared, laughing with what little breath she had. There was none of the same focus or intent ¨C just the eyes of someone swimming in a pool of pure adrenaline.

    Maria¡¯s features were sculpted in such a way that all of these differing emotions and attitudes could be expressed and projected to others. The reason Maria was so good at scaring people straight was because of the way her eyes sharpened when she started to get cross with them.

    ¡°Everyone wants to be friends with Maria, and the ones who don¡¯t are looking to arrange a marriage with her instead.¡±

    Claude shook his head, ¡°Why would they want to do that?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? She¡¯s attractive and rich, and her manners are impeccable. The whole reason a lot of students even attend this academy is so that they can rub elbows with nobles like her and try to romance them.¡±

    Max could sympathise. There were a lot of girls from smaller families who wanted to marry him because of the same reasons. Maria had a lot less patience for that kind of naked influence seeking though. Her rejections stung like the blade of a knife, and she did not waste her time trying to spare their feelings. Max couldn¡¯t make himself do the same, he was simply too diplomatic.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see it,¡± Claude replied.

    Max wasn¡¯t romantically interested in Maria ¨C but he could easily see her appeal. She was, in both his and others¡¯ words, one of the most beautiful girls in the academy. Claude¡¯s expressed ignorance to that fact made Max question how observant he was being around other people.

    ¡°We¡¯re getting off track here! As I was saying, Dalia said that she was actually real close with Maria ¨C but then Wendy went behind her back and told Louis that it was a load of bullcrap. That¡¯s why they started fighting, at least, that¡¯s the ¡®public¡¯ version of the story.¡±

    ¡°Here we go,¡± Max muttered. He¡¯d heard this before.

    ¡°But how do we know that Maria didn¡¯t tell Dalia that she was fine with that boast? What if Maria was the one who planned this from the start to make Wendy and Dalia fall out and start fighting?¡±

    Max asked the obvious question; ¡°Why would Maria do that, exactly?¡±

    Claude raised a finger into the air, ¡°That is what we need to find out.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure that Maria had nothing to do with it. Does she strike you as the type of girl to rely on social engineering to get her way? She¡¯d tell Dalia to go away - in not-so-kind words.¡±

    Maria might have concealed her secret from them, but engaging in the chess-like game of pushing people in different directions for her reputation was not her modus operandi. Maria didn¡¯t care one bit about that. Max had only ever seen her rebuke the other students when they tried to make her take a side.

    ¡°This is my hunch, Max. My hunches have never led me wrong before. I can smell foul play in the air like a bloodhound.¡±

    ¡°I can smell something foul right now, and it¡¯s not foul play...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to get to the bottom of this. We can¡¯t let Maria get away with tearing apart the social fabric of our academy.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no way that either of those girls are going to talk to you. Just leave it alone for goodness sake.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t sit still when injustice is afoot!¡±

    Claude jumped up from his seat and took the notebook with him. It was filled to the brim with new writings about trying to solve this case. Max made no motion to stop him. He sat there and watched him charge through the door to parts unknown.

    This was supposed to be their day off.

    <hr>

    ¡°Roderro! You¡¯ve got a visitor.¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Cathdra was sitting on the edge of his bed when the guard came by with a shocking piece of news. He had a visitor. Cathdra had been locked up in a low-security prison for months, and not since the first week had he seen anyone from the outside. The time was so short that he only found the space to tell Adrian about the importance of the family¡¯s long passed-down watch.

    ¡°Do you know who it is?¡± he inquired, climbing to his feet and approaching the bars.

    ¡°Young lad. Your son, isn¡¯t he?¡±

    Cathdra exhaled through his nose and slipped both hands through an open gap in the door, allowing the guard to cuff them together. The door was then unlocked and slid open. Cathdra followed the guard down the steps onto the ground floor of the wing he now called home and towards the visitation centre.

    That initial meeting was done through a set of bars ¨C but good behaviour earned him the right to sit at a table with Adrian instead of being watched like a hawk. The other prisoners did not make for good company, so any time he could spend with Adrian was valuable to him.

    Through the dreary grey hallways and into the meeting room, Cathdra spied Adrian sitting in the back corner. He kept his head low and moved towards him with a thousand questions on his mind. Some of those same questions were answered by the troubled look on Adrian¡¯s face. The lines that grew beneath his eyes were fracture marks in what was once a solid front.

    That made him feel nervous.

    He sat down across from Adrian and steepled his chained hands on the table. The sound of clinking metal finally caught his attention. Adrian¡¯s head shot back up as if he was sleeping with his eyes wide open.

    ¡°Hello, Dad.¡±

    ¡°Adrian. I didn¡¯t expect you to visit again so soon.¡±

    Adrian frowned, ¡°I know that you¡¯re lying. I haven¡¯t had time to come and visit lately. As you might guess, I¡¯ve been very busy spinning plates, putting out fires, the usual.¡±

    Cathdra remained impassive; ¡°Did my lessons get through to you? Or are you struggling?¡±

    ¡°No number of lessons could make this easy. I find myself wondering why you built a machine this monstrous and cumbersome. It¡¯s a beast with fifteen serpentine heads and no end of venom to throw my way.¡±

    Cathdra had a frank assessment of the problem, one which Adrian was not willing to listen to. He had intentionally set the business up so that Adrian didn¡¯t have to worry about the day-to-day operations. Either the people he put in place were less competent than he hoped, or Adrian had rejected their help out of some misplaced stubbornness.

    ¡°You should rely on the managers and building operators,¡± he said, ¡°They know how to keep the factories and shops running without us having to give them marching orders.¡±

    Adrian scowled, ¡°No. A lot of them quit after you were arrested. I had to replace a large number of them, and those new managers didn¡¯t know what to do. They all come to me for direction and confirmation.¡±

    Cathdra grumbled under his breath. That was the kind of loyalty he got for promoting those people? He made them, and now they were returning that faith by spitting it back in his face when they were most needed! The only explanation was that they found the idea of working for his son morally unacceptable, or that another employer was poaching them with that issue in mind.

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to talk about the business. There¡¯s nothing you can offer me about that now. I don¡¯t have time for it either. Visiting hours are nearly over and they¡¯ll want you back in that cell as soon as possible, so just listen to me.¡±

    Cathdra nodded, ¡°Very well.¡±

    ¡°I hoped that your being behind bars would be the end of all of the violence that seemed to spontaneously happen around me. I was mistaken. Dead wrong. In the last two months, I¡¯ve had my life threatened on multiple occasions, and someone broke into the academy and stole the watch from me.¡±

    ¡°They stole the watch?¡± Cathdra gasped.

    ¡°Yeah. Some masked idiot snuck into the dorms and made away with it. By the time I got it back from the police, someone else had used it to travel back to Goddess knows when. The charge is dead.¡±

    Stolen, robbed of magical energy ¨C they were the same problem. That heirloom had personally ensured the continued survival of their family for generations. Assassination plots, infighting, accidental death and more, they were all circumnavigated by the power of the watch. Without it, Adrian was at a much higher risk of being killed and for the family¡¯s power to fall into the hands of his brother.

    ¡°Then, a month later ¨C a group of Scuncath broke onto our estate and kidnapped me.¡±

    Cathdra¡¯s mouth hung open. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing.

    ¡°I was mercifully unharmed, but the man who was in charge there said something interesting to me. He tried to make me switch over to supporting his cause, and according to him, Cedric was the one who told them where I was at the time.¡±

    ¡°And you believed him?¡±

    Adrian scoffed, ¡°Of course not. But it made me think. The watch, that was a security feature that only our family should know about. The Scuncath broke onto our estate knowing that I would be there. If Cedric were leaking information to try and... remove me, then that would line up. I want you to tell me if you believe it.¡±

    Cathdra moved back in his chair and considered his next words carefully.

    ¡°This is a troublesome path you walk, Adrian. Even the smell of doubt can make the situation worse than it is now. You¡¯ll start seeing patterns where there aren¡¯t any, all based on the word of someone who was trying to control you.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question. Do you think that Cedric would be willing to go that far?¡±

    Cathdra couldn¡¯t hide his real answer. The pained expression that he sported was plain to see. Yes. Cedric was exactly the type of man to use underhanded tricks like those, potentially putting his nephew in danger, entirely for the purpose of cementing his control over the family¡¯s fortune.

    ¡°Cedric? I never trusted him. I understand how silly it sounds coming from me, but his ambition is the most dangerous mixture of hubris and will. He isn¡¯t above destroying what he wants, so long as his enemies don¡¯t get to keep it for themselves. He is already a wealthy man ¨C but I don¡¯t doubt his desire to absorb what you now own.¡±

    Adrian looked down at the table and closed his eyes as he processed his Father¡¯s opinion on the matter. For a young man, learning that his own family member was willing to go so far was a sobering discovery. Did their relation mean so little to him that the influence and money he could earn outweighed it? Was he willing to kill someone indirectly to get what he wanted?

    No ¨C that was stupid. The revelation of Maria¡¯s involvement in recent events shifted his entire perspective of violence as a phenomenon. Maria was the girl that every other girl at the academy wanted to be like. She was graceful, strong, beautiful and held an immense amount of sway.

    She was also a cold-blooded killer.

    That didn¡¯t make sense. Maria had no reason to be that way, and if someone like Maria were capable of unleashing that kind of brutal violence, why wasn¡¯t Cedric? He had all the more reason to use violent means to get what he wanted. Unlike Maria, he was doing it to enrich himself and money was the ultimate motivator. Judging a book by its cover was going to get him killed. With Cedric, it was safer to assume that he was trying to kill him.

    Adrian was always hot-headed and quick to jump to conclusions, but for something this serious it gave him pause. He needed evidence to confirm that Cedric was the one plotting to oust him from the head position. If it were under different circumstances he would have gladly passed it off, but Cedric was taking matters into a dangerous direction. Adrian hated being in charge.

    ¡°I think I can guess what he¡¯s going to do next.¡±

    ¡°You do?¡± Adrian asked.

    ¡°If there is a lot of scrutiny around as a result of the attack you mentioned, he¡¯ll pull away and resort to a safer strategy. Cedric is not one to put all of his eggs into one basket ¨C and he is very averse to outright risk. If he wants to become the head of the family, he only has to take control of the source of our wealth. Wealth forms influence, and influence is what cements a family head.¡±

    ¡°How can he take them from me?¡±

    ¡°He can¡¯t ¡®take¡¯ them from you. They¡¯re legally yours. The only way he can take them from you now is to purchase your stake in them. He must know about how stressful you find the day-to-day, he¡¯ll make you a terrible offer to take the businesses out of your hands. If it were a good offer I¡¯d even suggest considering it, but it won¡¯t be.¡±

    Adrian grumbled, ¡°Yeah. Why pay more when you can lowball me?¡±

    ¡°Say no. He¡¯ll have to raise his offer or give up.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about the money. I want to make sure that he can¡¯t try anything stupid. I need leverage, or to grab a cricket bat and beat him until he¡¯s black and blue.¡±

    Adrian wanted to go out guns blazing and make sure that Cedric understood where he was in the pecking order, but pushing him too far would make him feel that drastic action was the only way to stay out of jail. Thinking back to Maria, he considered how she would handle it. She never gave away all of the details. She expertly earned trust from the people around her while keeping a lot of vital information to herself.

    The dismissiveness, the scathing insults, the competitive attitude ¨C that was all theatre designed to lure Adrian and the rest into seeing her in a very particular way. Adrian couldn¡¯t find the words to describe the uneasy sensation in his chest, but it had to do with her. He no longer viewed Maria Walston-Carter in the same way. They¡¯d been fighting for years, but did he even really know who she was?

    The guard cut through the background noise with a loud declaration; ¡°Three minutes!¡±

    Cathdra refocused on giving Adrian advice, ¡°I understand that you probably won¡¯t listen to me given what I¡¯ve done ¨C but you should tread carefully no matter what you choose. If Cedric was involved with those incidents then he won¡¯t expect you to be aware of that. That¡¯s an important advantage to preserve. Appearing ignorant can lure your foes into a false sense of security. He doesn¡¯t respect anyone, least of all people like you.¡±

    ¡°Like me?¡±

    ¡°Who he considers young and coddled. I bet he¡¯s laughing about how ignorant you are as we speak. He¡¯d do that to everyone, always thinking that he was two steps ahead of them. Failure never humbles him.¡±

    Adrian looked past his father to the guard standing by the door, and then to the grey walls that surrounded them, and to the metal bars that blocked the windows. This prison was built to break the spirit through repetition. There was no beauty, no individuality, nothing to distract the mind.

    ¡°Are you humbled?¡±

    Cathdra paused. Adrian spoke the question with hesitation, his voice dying down to a low whisper on the final note. What was there to say about a question like that? It was almost enough to make him break out into laughter.

    ¡°Humbled isn¡¯t the right word, Adrian. I held my hands close to the fire and only have myself to blame for getting burned. I looked to my success and I decided that it wasn¡¯t enough.¡±

    Adrian abruptly stood from the table with a furious scowl, ¡°Don¡¯t sell me that bullshit.¡±

    Even he didn¡¯t know why Cathdra¡¯s words enraged him so. It was a gut reaction, like someone punching him across the cheek. It revolted him. He felt his temperature pick up and his hearing pound with the beat of a heavy drum. There was an element to his ¡®apology¡¯ that he was missing.

    Cathdra closed his eyes, ¡°I wanted what was best for you. I still do. You¡¯ll have the same feeling one day when you have a family of your own. You¡¯ll move mountains for someone else¡¯s sake.¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m not going to do that. I¡¯m not going to be like you or Cedric.¡±

    The guard, who was watching their argument closely, called time on their meeting.

    ¡°Time¡¯s up!¡±

    Adrian and Cathdra said nothing else. Adrian walked past him and back through the guest entrance. Cathdra stared at his back ¨C and kept his eyes locked onto the exit even after he was out of sight. The guard approached the table and motioned for him to stand. Cathdra shook his head and did as the guard instructed. He was patted down and checked for contraband before being led back to his cell.

    Cathdra sat back on the edge of his bed and replayed the conversation in his mind, again and again. The longer he did, the less pleased he was with the direction it took. Removed from the visitation room he suddenly thought of a million and one better things he could have said to Adrian. It was too late to use them now.

    Their time was too short. He wanted to ask about the Scuncath, but Adrian had only arrived at the prison at the last minute. There was no space for him to elaborate on that or the supposed involvement of Cedric in their schemes. Cathdra was forced to reckon with the reality that a lot of events were occurring beyond the prison¡¯s walls.

    The world kept moving without him.

 Chapter 110

    Things were quiet ¨C and that was scarier than the imminent threat of being gunned down by a group of vengeful cultists. Durandia¡¯s scheme had conditioned me to expect trouble at every turn. Our first term and holiday while attending the academy as students were complete anarchy. Assassins on campus, political plots boiling, and mad cultists kidnapping everyone they could find.

    To me it made perfect sense that the reveal of my secret identity to the gang was the portent of doom. Instead, Max was too busy trying to deal with Claude and his newly chosen investigation, Adrian was occupied with running his family¡¯s empire and studying, and Samantha was already on the level.

    Despite all of the drama, nothing at school changed.

    This pattern continued for days, weeks, and then months. Months! I would have lost my head if I learned before that there¡¯d be months of relative peace and quiet to deal with. It was driving me up the wall. My self-flagellating personality demanded that someone appear on campus and shoot at me right that instant before I started enjoying it.

    At some point during our peaceful period, Max starting become a regular visitor to our hideout spot because Claude was ¡®driving him up the wall¡¯ while trying to look into the Wendy versus Dalia feud that I couldn¡¯t give a single shit about. In short, Claude wasn¡¯t making any new friends trying to stick his nose into that messy business.

    Samantha was enjoying a cup of tea at the garden table, while I paced back and forth with a paranoid countenance. Max¡¯s head rotated with me to follow my movements.

    ¡°What¡¯s got Maria so on edge? Should I be worried too?¡± Max pondered.

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°No. She¡¯s a pessimist to the core. If something terrible doesn¡¯t happen within a two-week window of the last thing, she starts to become like this.¡±

    ¡°I guess I can appreciate that. Trends have a way of making you believe that you¡¯re cursed, but maybe Maria should worry more about her studies than a hypothetical disaster coming over the horizon.¡±

    I turned to face the table and crossed my arms grumpily; ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that my grades are almost perfect. You need not worry yourself with that.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s that suffocating sense of superiority we¡¯re used to...¡±

    Samantha shrugged, ¡°It¡¯s rightly earned, I feel.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to lord it over you,¡± I replied, ¡°I simply don¡¯t like it when people attempt to impugn my efforts. I¡¯ve been playing with the tennis club, keeping up with my exercises, and studying for all of my elective classes. It¡¯s the best way to distract myself.¡±

    ¡°Maria said that she wasn¡¯t all that interested in tennis when she signed up, and now she¡¯s helping Lance out with his duties before they start.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not strange to find a hidden love for a new hobby.¡±

    Visual novels weren¡¯t available in a world without computers anyway, and having to go through an otome game after spending the last three years of my life immersed in one would probably make me physically ill. With that said Samantha hadn¡¯t expressed any interest in the cast of diverse and unique boys who were on offer. Romance was definitively not in the air at the academy.

    Max adjusted his hair after sensing that a single strand had gone astray, ¡°I forgot to say this earlier ¨C but Adrian was hoping to have a word with you. I think he wants your assistance with an important matter.¡±

    I stopped pacing, ¡°Adrian wants my help? That must be serious. He wouldn¡¯t be caught dead asking me for anything unless he had to.¡±

    ¡°It is concerning, so could you hear him out?¡±

    I nodded. There was no harm in listening to his request.

    ¡°You two have gotten rather friendly lately,¡± Samantha observed, ¡°What happened?¡±

    Max chuckled, ¡°Oh ¨C nothing specific happened. We just started talking after the incident with the Scuncath and all. I realized that he¡¯s eased up a lot since we started coming to the academy.¡±

    I saw it differently. Max had found a kindred spirit in someone who was suffering the same internal conflict that he was. Adrian and Max didn¡¯t know what to do with themselves, now or in the future. Max was the third-born son and had no expectations placed on him, and Adrian was presently being crushed by those same expectations thanks to his Father¡¯s arrest. There was no doubt in my mind that Adrian wanted out as quickly as possible.

    It was easy to remark that Adrian had what Max desired ¨C but that ignored the truth of the exchange. They were both free to do as they pleased, yet they were struck with a sense of profound indecision. For Adrian, there was a pressing time limit to those considerations. The clock was ticking and he needed to be there to manage his business empire.

    Our peaceful tea time was interrupted by Claude, who burst through the patio doors and ran towards us with intent in his eyes. I braced myself for a brain-cell annihilating discussion about whatever he¡¯d come up with while he was away. Claude skidded to a halt in front of the table and doubled over to try and catch his breath.

    ¡°What is it, Claude?¡± Max asked with the resignation of a man trudging towards the gallows.

    ¡°I have completed my investigation!¡±

    ¡°Your what?¡± Samantha replied.

    ¡°My investigation! I¡¯ve spent the past month delving deep into the rift between Dalia and Wendy, and I¡¯ve reached a shocking conclusion. Hold on to your teacup ¨C this is going to blow your mind.¡±

    Max covered his face, ¡°Here we go again.¡±

    What followed was nigh incomprehensible. Claude started to plunge down into the rabbit hole that surrounded the argument between Dalia and Wendy in intense detail. Not a single word was spared. Claude talked through his thought process, the people he spoke with, what they said, where he went next, and the events that led up to it collated together from a variety of different eyewitnesses.

    ¡°...As I soon discovered ¨C Wendy was the source of that unbecoming rumour about Dalia. She knew that Dalia hadn¡¯t actually befriended Maria, but she also tried to warn Dalia that Louis Germain was more interested in Maria than he was in her, so that plan wouldn¡¯t work anyway-¡±

    It was taking a long time for Claude to work through his story. Max and Samantha had tuned out already. I stopped listening for a minute and when I returned, Claude was on a completely different topic to the one I left him on.

    ¡°I noticed that the two incidents were extremely similar. The methodology, the subtle manipulations that were leaked through into the public discourse, and the fact that the one girl who was at the centre of the debate remained ever elusive. I went back and rechecked my files...¡±

    He pointed to me.

    ¡°...And I concluded that you were the one who orchestrated their quarry! It made me realize that this case had all the same hallmarks as the death of Professor Prier on this very same campus. The only person who could have done it, was you, Maria Walston-Carter. The theatre, the party, that was all you. You used your skills in shooting to kill without delay or remorse!¡±

    Huh? I missed a step somewhere along the way.

    Max spoke through clenched teeth, ¡°Maria looks like she¡¯s about to murder you.¡±

    Claude finally looked at me and discovered the expression of sheer rage that covered my normally emotionless features.

    ¡°She¡¯s outraged! Surely the last defence of the guilty party!¡±

    I yelled, ¡°I already told you that I was the one who did that, you nattering half-wit! I told you that two months ago! It took you until now to figure out that we weren¡¯t all collectively lying to your face?¡±

    It wasn¡¯t just that. What really got to me was how Claude¡¯s only cypher with which to decipher those previous mysteries was an idiotic argument between two girls whom I had nothing to do with. He¡¯d convinced himself of what we had told him by wasting his time trying to attach me to something I didn¡¯t actually do.

    ¡°You are, quite frankly, the most obnoxious, irritating and boorish boy in this entire academy! The length and breadth of your sheer stupidity are consistently expectation-defying! Just when I start to think that there is no bottom, you find a way to dig even deeper!¡±

    Claude shrunk back as I unloaded a barrage of venomous words in his direction.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Why are you so angry about it?¡±

    ¡°Because Samantha, Max and I have been telling you this for the past two months! Your ego is so inflated with needless hot air that you refused to accept it because you think that you¡¯re the only one who is capable of figuring out the ¡®mystery.¡¯ There is no mystery! You saw it happen, forgot it, and then sneered at everyone else when they filled you in! I don¡¯t know how Max puts up with you. If I were in his shoes I would have bloody well strangled you!¡±

    Samantha covered her mouth and tried desperately not to laugh. This was the angriest she¡¯d ever seen me get with anyone on campus. It wasn¡¯t the desperate type of madness that she witnessed at the fort ¨C this was sheer, childish, emotional rage at her dim-witted friend. Teeth bared, red-faced, with a foot stamping into the dirt to punctuate each and every word.

    Max was in a different position. He didn¡¯t know much about me beyond the image that I projected to the other students, so the mere thought of me becoming upset at someone else was a surprise more shocking than the truth of me being the one who killed all of those people. He couldn¡¯t find it amusing, he was rendered unable to decide how he felt about the situation.

    Claude held his hands up in a peace offering; ¡°Uh. I¡¯m sorry?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t phrase that like a question. Idiot.¡±

    Max stood between us and tried to prevent any murder from occurring in the academy¡¯s back garden.

    ¡°Okay ¨C there¡¯s no need for you two to get into a fight over it. Let¡¯s just be glad that Claude¡¯s finally on the same page with the rest of us.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I should be glad at all. I have no faith in Claude being able to keep a secret.¡±

    Claude frowned, ¡°But you killed Professor Prier.¡±

    ¡°He tried to murder Felipe, and then me. The gun they found at the scene had his fingerprints all over it.¡±

    ¡°And what about what happened at the theatre?¡±

    ¡°That was clear-cut self-defence.¡±

    Samantha vouched for my interpretation, ¡°Maria did kind of... save my life back there.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡± Claude muttered, ¡°Even if that¡¯s the case ¨C bringing a gun with you must be illegal in some kinda¡¯ way, right?¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t care,¡± I replied.

    I was more likely to get a pat on the back and a thank you than any real punishment for bringing a gun with me. Even then, that charge was almost impossible for them to prove without my Father throwing me under the proverbial bus. I could simply state that I stole the gun from one of the goons and made it work.

    I pressed the attack, ¡°And by the way, even though you¡¯ve finally accepted what was bleedingly obvious to everyone else and admitted using my own words, you¡¯re still wrong about my involvement with this Dalia affair. I have nothing to do with any of it.¡±

    Adrian appeared at the doorway, attracted by the noise that Claude was making. I pushed Claude towards the table and forcibly sat him with Max and Samantha so that they could explain to him what was going on now that he was suddenly willing to listen to them.

    ¡°Please take care of this. Adrian is here to save me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah ¨C we¡¯ll handle this,¡± Samantha sighed.

    I left them to it and approached Adrian.

    ¡°Max said you wished to speak with me.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to find me so soon.¡±

    ¡°Claude has that effect on people.¡±

    We moved away from the table where the trio were sitting and to a private area further down the gardenway, close to the fountain that I liked to jog around when doing my training routine in the morning. After ensuring that nobody was here to eavesdrop on us, Adrian was happy to speak about his request.

    Even though he was the one who requested me, Adrian seemed remiss to ask me for any assistance at all, never mind a matter of great importance like this. It was a big change from the contemptuous and hot-headed teenager who declared himself my eternal rival just a few years before. Having to handle all of his family¡¯s business was wearing him down to a blunt edge.

    His biggest worry was that based on past experiences, I would say no.

    ¡°I was hoping that you could help me with a problem.¡±

    ¡°If you want me to kill someone ¨C I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t do that on request,¡± I said under my breath.

    Adrian shook his head in vehement denial; ¡°No! I don¡¯t want you to do that. You were the one who mentioned what my Uncle did while we were at the fort. Why did you willingly believe what Hoffman said back there?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t believe what he said, you just have to admit that there was some logic to what he claimed. You are the last one standing in the main family line. If you die, or find yourself indisposed like your father, then he will be the one to inherit the fortune. He will generate a strong legal claim to the family¡¯s property.¡±

    Property rights were complicated in Walser, but it was even more so when it came to noble families. The kicker was that Cathdra presumably structured his purchases so that the current head of the family held legal authority over them. This was a practice known as ¡®Vardism,¡¯ and it was shockingly common. Vardism was just centralization with a strange name, based on an obscure piece of forgotten noble history that I wasn¡¯t savvy to.

    The idea was that the head of the family ultimately had to be the one in charge of their operations. If someone was incapacitated, died, or was arrested ¨C the belief was that the best way to ensure continuity was to give the new head full control of the houses¡¯ business ventures. It was contractual law that gave the new head genuine legal claims to that property should they return in good health. Getting arrested and charged with conspiracy to commit murder was a fantastic way to cede your claims to the new head, as it happened.

    That was how it went. Cathdra structured his purchases of those businesses under a contractual structure based on Vardism. If he was unable to fulfil his responsibilities as defined by that contract, then the legal rights would be passed down to his eldest child. There would inevitably be a backup clause in that contract that gave Cedric an entry into the contest too. If Adrian died in an unfortunate accident then he would be left alone at the top of the pile.

    It there wasn¡¯t a Vardist contract in force ¨C then Adrian¡¯s death would result in the property rights reverting back to Cathdra. That was perfectly fine when everyone was on the level and playing nice, but not ideal when a dirty, underhanded son of a bitch was trying to kill his own family members to get his hands on them.

    That was one motive I couldn¡¯t understand. Money did make the world go around. I spent my entire past life doing everything I could to get more of it, but living as Maria made me realize that there was nothing in high society for any one person to achieve beyond making even more of it. And for what, exactly? To cement his legacy? To get one over on his older brother?

    I was experienced enough to accept that some people valued ¡®family¡¯ as little as a handful of dollar bills. That was no surprise to me. Cedric sounded as craven as they came.

    Adrian grumbled, ¡°You¡¯re right. One of the family lawyers told me all about it when I asked. If I¡¯d have known, I would have taken more precautions.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like mathematics. Your Uncle is the only one who should know about your possession of the watch. He could have offered information about it in exchange for an assurance that they would steal from you.¡±

    ¡°But you figured out what it does,¡± he observed astutely.

    ¡°By virtue of having seen it, sensed the magical energy it emitted, and delving deep into an archive in my own time to discover the source of the mechanism inside. How many people do you think meet those specific conditions? The simplest answer is most often the correct one.¡±

    The direction that our conversation was going clued me into what Adrian¡¯s problem was. He wanted to know if Cedric was trying to kill him or not.

    ¡°I see. I see what you want to ask me now. You want evidence, firm evidence, to see whether what Hoffman said is true or not.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s brow furrowed; ¡°This is the part where you make fun of me, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°I do not find a single element of this situation amusing or ironic. Your competitive nature when it comes to target shooting is hardly a reason to revel in a very real threat to your wellbeing.¡±

    Adrian was legitimately taken aback by my magnanimous attitude. He was expecting mockery, derision and laughter in equal amounts. That was the foundation of our relationship. Adrian would make a bold declaration about showing me up, and we¡¯d have a quippy war of words before I inevitably won out when it came time to pull the trigger.

    ¡°Ugh. I guess you are every bit as mature as the other girls say you are. I¡¯m making a fool of myself by saying that.¡±

    ¡°Why have you come to me?¡±

    He chewed on the question for a moment and composed a polite answer, ¡°I don¡¯t expect you to whip out a gun and shoot Cedric dead, but from what I can tell, you¡¯re very good at this sort of thing. Like the way you figured out what my watch did. I can¡¯t think of anyone else to ask to help.¡±

    What he meant was that he didn¡¯t have any friends he could trust with it. That friendless air was made even worse by his Father¡¯s arrest and the subsequent apology tour that he was forced to depart on. Nobody wanted to be seen with him, never mind entertain his greetings.

    I waited too long to answer.

    ¡°I can pay you?¡± Adrian offered.

    ¡°Why would I ever need money?¡± I replied sardonically, ¡°Both of us have more of it than we could ever hope to spend on ourselves.¡±

    Adrian paused, ¡°You¡¯re right. That was stupid.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t see a reason not to help.¡±

    His face lit up like the fourth of July. Finally, he had someone on his side.

    ¡°I assume it won¡¯t be anything too... controversial? We get an invitation to his home, snoop around and press him for information. Does he still enjoy hosting his own shooting events? I haven¡¯t been in a long while.¡±

    ¡°He does,¡± Adrian confirmed, ¡°You would be a shoo-in for a spot if you asked.¡±

    Another thought occurred to me while we made our plan. I still had my big chest of blackmail from Rentree¡¯s place. It was a remote possibility that Cedric was mentioned somewhere in one of those letters ¨C which would confirm his involvement in passing on the information that led to Caius stealing the watch.

    Reading through them was going to be a pain in the ass, but nothing worth doing was easy. I¡¯d have to be a moron not to take the chance to make our lives simpler by finding a smoking gun amongst what I already possessed at home. Failing that, I could ask for an invitation to one of Cedric¡¯s shooting contests and break into his office while everyone was occupied.

    This was turning into a pattern. How many offices had I broken into in the past year at this point? I had lost count.

    ¡°What are you going to do if we find the evidence that you¡¯re looking for?¡±

    Adrian¡¯s joy was dampened by my piercing question. That was the big one, the key decision that he would have to wrestle with.

    ¡°I can¡¯t pretend that there¡¯ll be any love lost between us. If he did try to kill me, then I¡¯ll be happy to see the back of him in whatever form that may be.¡±

    ¡°If we have to kill him? Are you willing to make that judgement?¡±

    Adrian wanted so badly to charge ahead like he always did and declare his vengeful intentions, but he couldn¡¯t. I was asking him if he wanted to be partly responsible for his Uncle being murdered in retaliation for his scheming. The face he made and the words he spoke were at odds with one another.

    ¡°If we have to. That¡¯s what he gets. Don¡¯t try killing people if you¡¯re afraid of them killing you back.¡±

    I offered him an alternative; ¡°There are ways to make people comply without resorting to frank violence. Everyone is motivated by material desires, we simply need to threaten what he cares about most. His money.¡±

    He was trying to knock Adrian from the top of the pile to get his grubby hands on their business empire. Money was the key. It was what drove him. If we could directly draw a line between his behaviour and losing what he already possessed ¨C then we could control him.

    Adrian stroked his chin, ¡°But we can¡¯t go and rob the bank where he keeps all of it.¡±

    ¡°No bank robbery is required. Is he not a businessman? A lot of his liquid cash will be tied up in various investments, and even a small problem can rapidly bloom into an empire-destroying rot.¡±

    The first step was to find that weakness.

    ¡°Let¡¯s make sure that your Uncle thinks twice before doing this again.¡±

 Chapter 111

    There were very few things that could put Marco Fisichella on edge. He was a killer. He¡¯d worked for the most rich, influential and dangerous people in Walser for almost a decade. What separated the wheat from the chaff was the ability to kill, and then to get away with it. Some of them tried to screw him over or stiff him on the payment, but none of them succeeded.

    What he hated the most was not making money.

    Marco didn¡¯t like sitting still. He didn¡¯t like having to mope around his safehouse in Bromberg Common like an unemployed busker. Time was money, and every second wasted was cash left on the table. He and his gang were in the middle of a genuine drought. Not only was there no appetite for getting banged up in jail like Cathdra Roderro ¨C but Rentree¡¯s death during their last big job made hiring them an unattractive prospect.

    It was just as Marco feared. They were being blamed for what Cordia did.

    ¡°Marco, I¡¯ve got our cut from the dock.¡±

    Benny Burton walked into the living room and placed a large bag filled with paper notes onto the table. Marco unbuttoned it and started to count up the stacks ¨C but he could tell from the first second that it was lighter than usual, and the amounts were getting trimmer by the week.

    ¡°They¡¯re skipping out on us again.¡±

    Benny pointed to himself, ¡°I told ¡®em I was working for Marco Fisichella ¨C and they just laughed in my face. Nerve of ¡®em! I had to put them back in their place and smash the gaff up.¡±

    Marco was not happy, ¡°Ever since Erwin¡¯s boys got busted for that Roderro business, they¡¯ve started getting way too big for their britches. There¡¯s a gap they want to fill.¡±

    ¡°And that shit with Rentree didn¡¯t help either.¡±

    ¡°Sure didn¡¯t. Everyone thinks that they can step on our toes. It¡¯s so tiresome.¡±

    Marco was the man who handled the business, but his reputation alone was enough to bring a lot of people to their door. That reputation had been seriously damaged by Cordia¡¯s decision to shoot and kill Lady Rentree. Not only did the latter half of their contract not get paid out ¨C but there was also a belief amongst their usual clientele that they were partly responsible for it.

    It was for those two reasons that Marco elected to pull his men from the estate and get out of there. There was no use in fighting a battle, potentially resulting in the death of his brothers, for nothing in return. Fighting for a cause was only something that rich assholes cared about. It was a luxury.

    The path from a disorganized street gang to a widely renowned assassin organization was a rocky one. Marco would be damned if he was going to let one bad job destroy all of that progress and throw them into fresh poverty.

    The Church Walk Family were the biggest problem. Years of police crackdowns in and around Church Street, and the larger district, had failed to dent their influence. They offered security and collective identity to people who desperately needed both.

    ¡°What about the Walk?¡±

    ¡°They seem to be a right fuss about something or other, but it¡¯s nowt to do with us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like a more specific answer than that.¡±

    ¡°Even my usual ears can¡¯t parse it. I went and asked ¡®em all in person too. One of the big lads thinks that the police are about to come down hard, harder than they¡¯ve tried before, but this time it¡¯s enough to make them worry.¡±

    Marco frowned, ¡°Enough to make the Walk worry? I thought they were too hard-headed for that.¡±

    ¡°It could be something big or nothing at all.¡±

    Marco¡¯s safehouse was located close to Church Walk, which lent its name to the gang that occupied it. Church Walk used to be one of the most affluent areas of the city, but that changed quickly when it started to industrialize. A huge swathe of working-class people flocked to the city and Church Walk became left behind as the old residents moved out.

    It was filled with numerous historic buildings and churches, it was also filled with every brand of scumbag, scam artist and crook you could imagine. If they could have lifted Church Street ¨C the main avenue, from the middle of the district and moved it someplace else ¨C they would have tried years ago.

    Marco counted the cards in his hands and slammed them down on the table. As he did, there was the sound of gunfire echoing and vibrating through the thin windows of the house.

    ¡°Is some lunatic opening up on the Walk again?¡± he complained.

    He walked to the front window that looked out onto the street. Two dozen people were standing, loitering or moving through ¨C but the sounds of gunshots either sent them into a stunned reverie or running for cover. The curious ones stayed out in the open, hoping to somehow scry more information about what was going on through their mere presence.

    Marco heard even more. He couldn¡¯t count how many shots were being fired. It was a full-blown gunfight, with multiple participants. Benny approached from behind to get a closer look for himself.

    ¡°Bloody hell ¨C they¡¯re really going for it!¡±

    The noise settled down, and Benny returned to his chair now that the party was over. Marco remained in his spot. He was stubborn to a fault, and he knew that it wasn¡¯t going to be a simple matter of some gang members arguing over a game of poker. His eyes were locked onto the dark alleyway directly across from the porch. Even during the daytime, it could be tough to discern who was coming through there, but he did notice a shadowy figure running like their life depended on it.

    Marco knew how to identify a Walk when he saw one. They wore white, either as a part of their ensemble or by using a rag tied around one arm or leg. They had a very particular way of dressing beyond that too. Brimmed hats, suspenders, colourful neckerchiefs, and cut-off pants that exposed their ankles and shins. These could be worn individually or as a complete set to identify themselves.

    There wasn¡¯t a spec of white to be seen on the man who staggered through the darkness and onto the road, because every part of him was stained red instead. He was drenched in a thick layer of blood, dripping down from his chest, head and onto the cobbles below.

    ¡°Benny! Take a look at this!¡±

    The Walk was covered from head to toe in viscera. These were the kinds of wounds that were caused by a gunshot. Marco had seen it a thousand times before, a young guy on the street getting slashed to ribbons by some overeager rival.

    Before the injured gangster could reach the other side of the road, a cloaked figure appeared seemingly from nowhere, tackling him to the ground and raising a menacing dagger into the air. Screams filled the onlookers¡¯ ears as they rained down a series of attacks, puncturing his chest, lungs and other vital organs two dozen times within the span of ten seconds.

    Marco was aghast, ¡°Crazy bastard! What the hell is he doing?¡±

    The gang member struggled and clawed, pulling down on their cloak and succeeding in little else. The strength quickly left their body, and they slumped down into the gutter with glassy eyes and an open mouth. The assailant stood up, covered in his blood, and twisted around to find Marco spectating the violent display through his front window.

    Marco felt an unusual sense of unease.

    He¡¯d seen violence on the streets before. It was a fact of life for him and the others who grew up around Church Walk. Something was different about this. Even the most reckless gang members tried to keep it out of civilian view. No such concern was shown by the killer here and now. He attacked the Walk with a single-minded obsession, and he cared not for the consequences should he be caught by the police.

    The killer was staring right at him. Was he looking at him, or past him? He didn¡¯t seem at all concerned about the large number of witnesses that surrounded him. They were shocked, appalled, and some nauseated by the vicious assault. A lone woman wailed whilst leaning against a set of stairs, eyes covered and legs shaking.

    And then there was his skin. Sickly, pale, almost as white as a sheet. He looked like a dead man walking, like there wasn¡¯t a single drop of blood left in his body. The cold air that day should have brought some kind of colour to his cheeks ¨C yet they remained untouched by any pigment. Marco swore that his veins ran black with tar, peeking out from the scarf wrapped around his neck.

    He lurched to the left and started to ascend the steps. Benny pulled a gun from his pocket and aimed it squarely at the door. Marco remained still. He waited. Then, a series of loud, heavy knocks echoed through the room. Benny was starting to lose his cool.

    ¡°What are we gonna¡¯ do?¡±

    ¡°Ignore him,¡± Marco ordered. He found an angle where he could watch the murderer at the door. His head remained pointed towards the door, even when he could see Marco out of the corner of his eye.

    Benny released the safety on his gun in case he tried to break in. He wanted so badly to shoot through the wooden barrier that separated them and end it, yet he was also bound by Marco¡¯s orders. Marco was not going to be pleased if he gave his house¡¯s door a set of new holes to breathe through.

    ¡°He¡¯s not moving,¡± Marco relayed.

    ¡°Anybody trying to grab him?¡±

    ¡°No. They¡¯ve all run away, and there aren¡¯t going to be any police officers for four or five blocks.¡±

    He took a single step back and raised his palm towards the door.

    It happened so quickly that Marco found no time to react and warn Benny about what he was doing. An ear-bursting bang rocked the entire building. The door was shredded to pieces from a concussive blast, sending fragments of wood into Benny¡¯s body and face. He flew across the room and almost into the kitchen at the back.

    ¡°Benny!¡±

    The man turned and charged at him with his knife bared. Marco acted fast and drew his gun. There was no time to adjust his aim or think twice about it. He pulled the heavy trigger and hoped that it would be enough to stop him from gutting him like a fish.

    It didn¡¯t.

    Marco¡¯s reactions were better than most. Sensing that the momentum of his body was carrying him forward regardless of his gunfire ¨C he leapt to the left and put the table between himself and the attacker. Benny was still trying to recover from the shock of the blast that blew the door off its hinges.

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    ¡°Benny! The gun, shoot them!¡±

    That stirred him back to awareness. Benny rolled over, his face and chest covered in a curtain of blood that now leaked from the opened wounds. It wasn¡¯t enough to put him down, and luckily the shrapnel didn¡¯t get into his eyes.

    Benny scrambled to find where his gun had gone after the shockwave. His ears were still ringing from being in close proximity to the magical attack. The entire room had been upturned by the spell, and dozens of papers, decorative objects and other refuse had been thrown onto the floor.

    Benny threw a stack of papers aside and found his pistol, still loaded and ready to fire. The attacker was already moving to try and stab Marco again. Benny took the pistol and fired three shots in his direction, with two striking him in the arm and forcing him back towards the front window.

    ¡°He¡¯s still up!¡± Marco yelled, ¡°He¡¯s some kind of monster!¡±

    Benny fired another set of rounds. The window shattered and debris flew. The killer was visibly affected by the force of the shots hitting his body, but he still wasn¡¯t done. He kept moving, his eyes never faltering from Marco no matter what happened to him.

    ¡°Keep shooting! He¡¯s still moving!¡±

    Marco reunited with Benny by the kitchen door. Benny frantically forced another magazine into his gun with shaking, splinter-filled fingers. Marco shook his head. The killer marched on. They shot again.

    Marco couldn¡¯t believe it. Both of them had already shot the knife-wielding manic five times in the chest, but he was still standing like it didn¡¯t even phase him! Even the kinetic force of the bullet hitting his chest wasn¡¯t enough to slow his charge when it should have knocked him to the ground from shock.

    ¡°Kill him, use everything if you have to!¡±

    A riotous rain of gunfire followed. Benny and Marco continued to unload every bullet in their respective magazines, sending blood and fragments flying in the process. The attacker remained standing. He refused to go down. He stood there with gritted teeth and clenched knuckles, leaning into each shot and advancing step by step.

    But even the most powerful creatures in existence couldn¡¯t withstand that kind of assault. He slowed to a stop, fell to his knees, and then collapsed into a bloody heap on the floor of Marco¡¯s living room. The smell of gun smoke was suffocating.

    ¡°What... what in the Goddess¡¯ good name was that?¡± Benny gasped.

    Marco was stunned into silence. He could only stand there and stare at the hole-filled corpse that now occupied his safe house. What possessed him to break down his door and try to kill both of them? He didn¡¯t attack any of the other witnesses. He only came for them.

    ¡°Unbelievable. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t adrenaline pushing him forward in a last-gasp attack. No human could have managed to survive that much damage to their body and keep moving. It defied all reason. It was unprecedented.

    ¡°The police are going to be sniffing around now!¡± Benny fretted.

    Marco gathered himself; ¡°I don¡¯t keep any illegal shit in my safehouse, idiot. It wouldn¡¯t be much of a safehouse if I did!¡±

    He¡¯d need to keep a cool head and explain what happened. There were other eyewitnesses on the street who could back up their version of the story. It was under control. He could handle it. All he had to do was get his story straight.

    Marco reloaded his weapon and carefully approached the smoking corpse. He was not going to risk being caught off-guard by him again. He pushed the side of the man¡¯s head with the tip of his boot, only relaxing when he discovered that there was no pushback from his tensed muscles.

    What he wanted to see was the man¡¯s face. He pulled the hood down from his head to get a clearer view in the morning sunlight. It was exactly as he first thought. Something horrible had happened to him. He was deathly pale, with skin that hadn¡¯t seen the touch of oxygenated blood in some time. The whites of his eyes were turned an ill off-yellow, and the veins in his neck and eyes were black.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he murmured.

    Surely it had to do with his inhuman durability. Marco had seen some incredible displays of human durability and tenacity before, but never like this. He and Benny turned into a two-man firing squad and perforated his flesh no less than fifteen times during their fight. The shock and trauma of broken bones and ruptured organs should have ended it quickly.

    It was anything but. Whatever he¡¯d done to himself ¨C it meant that the fight didn¡¯t end in the blink of an eye, it demanded no less than his body being torn to pieces, bit by bit, under a hail of bullets. Even the blood that leaked from those brutal gunshot wounds was darker than it should have been. It was as if someone had mixed oil into his bloodstream, separate but together.

    Benny was too focused on picking pieces of wood from his skin to pay any attention to those details. Marco stepped back and observed the destruction caused to his living room with a weary sigh. He¡¯d need to pick up the scattered cash and hide it before the police came calling.

    ¡°Shit, that hurts!¡± Benny complained, nursing his injured hand.

    ¡°Use the stuff in my medicine cabinet. I¡¯d disinfect those wounds right away.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Veronica, can we speak in private?¡±

    That wasn¡¯t an offer of choice. It was an order. Veronica placed her book down on the desk and followed Ms. Frankfort to her office, making sure to close the door behind her to keep curious ears away from their discussion.

    ¡°Why do you need me?¡± Veronica inquired.

    Ms. Frankfort turned the page and re-read the report that was now occupying her time, ¡°A body was brought into the morgue at the Priory a few hours ago. That wouldn¡¯t be unusual given the gang violence we see in the area ¨C but the description of the body has aroused no small amount of suspicion from me.¡±

    Frankfort offered the page to Veronica, who started to read the details that had been given to the police by the coroner. It was a bizarre list of symptoms. Pale skin, squalid eyes, tainted blood and the ability to endure a punishment amount of damage without dying.

    ¡°It looks to me as if the dead have risen...¡±

    ¡°Normally I wouldn¡¯t ask you to handle busywork like this, I was happy to let the officers there handle the matter, but the Superior Lieutenant came to me and told me to take care of it.¡±

    ¡®Take care of it¡¯ was a not-so-subtle way of informing Veronica that someone on the inside of WISA was being a very naughty boy or girl. A select number of field agents with experience similar to hers were often used to weed out bad actors, long tenured agents who showcased their dedication to the agency whom the Superior officers could trust with internal affairs.

    She checked the police report again. According to eyewitnesses, the person they picked up was involved in a set of other murders near Church Street. A group of Walk gang members were found dead. Detectives concluded that the attacker stole one of their weapons and launched a surprise attack.

    They then travelled across the block and stabbed one of the survivors to death in plain view of the civilians in the area. They approached one of the houses, blew through the door with explosive magic, and were only stopped when the inhabitants of that house shot him two dozen times.

    ¡°Who¡¯s on the hook?¡±

    ¡°One of the information officers, Bernard Jones. He appeared at the morgue and tried to obstruct the police report ¨C but he cleared out once it was obvious that the story was going to work its way back to me. I¡¯m very concerned about this report. It could spell trouble for our security situation.¡±

    Bernard Jones was one of the war hawks in the information-gathering department. While Frankfort held apprehensions about letting the military get their hands on the Book of Cambry, the likes of him were cheering on from the sidelines. It was going to be a problem if he had direction connections to them.

    ¡°I want you to find out what Bernard knows, and bring back whatever you can about how the body ended up in that state in the first place.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get to work right away, then.¡±

    Veronica bowed respectfully and stepped out of the room. What a meddlesome job she was being given. Veronica hated working on internal affairs, and Frankfort was being light on the details to make her life even harder. Misconduct by an officer should have been handled by the managers, at least in her eyes.

    Bernard was going to be keeping his head down now that he was marked for getting involved in a police investigation without orders. The shooting was four hours ago, which meant getting the witness statements, moving the body and filing the initial autopsy report were done quickly. Even more unusual was that it was escalated to WISA¡¯s notice by a government minister on the very same day.

    There were about to be a lot of butting heads in the cabinet. The hydra was starting to eat at itself again, with the civilian members afraid of poking the beehive and the military hawks pulling strings to try and get one over on them.

    The morgue was a short walk from the WISA office. Veronica left the building and moved through the streets at a brisk pace. Time was of the essence when dealing with people¡¯s memories. Bernard was going to be putting as much excusable distance between himself and the body as possible in the meantime.

    She arrived at the morgue at a record pace and climbed the front stairs. There was a police officer waiting for her in the lobby.

    The officer nodded, ¡°I just got the call from upstairs. Are you Miss Veronica?¡±

    ¡°Veronica is fine. I¡¯d like to see the body, and speak with the people who¡¯ve been handling it.¡±

    A flurry of activity brought her to the cool surgery room where the deceased criminal was laid out on a long wooden table. A man wearing a blood-stained smock and a pair of glasses greeted her. The officer stayed in the room with them. Veronica knew the doctor by name.

    ¡°Good evening John.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Veronica. I didn¡¯t expect to see you when the day started...¡±

    Veronica approached the body and took a close look at it. The statement that Frankfort received undersold how mangled they were. The impact on their complexion was evident ¨C but several dozen bullets ripping through flesh and bone left them looking worse for wear.

    ¡°It took this much to kill him?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure,¡± John said, erring on the side of caution, ¡°The two men who killed him might have done it to prove a point. I can¡¯t confirm whether the first few or the last few shots were the fatal ones.¡±

    The officer spoke up; ¡°The men were very insistent that he was under a strange spell of madness. The detectives also spoke with witnesses from the previous killings he committed and they offered a similar perspective.¡±

    John sighed, ¡°There was a deep incision, a knife wound, in his chest. That would have disabled most people.¡±

    ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with his blood?¡± Veronica asked.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a genuine mystery. I have no idea. I sent it off for analysis and they came back with a report that only states that it has a strong magical charge. It¡¯s extremely conductive, and they think it allowed him to expel a huge amount of energy in a short span of time ¨C like how he busted down the door at the scene.¡±

    It looked like oil, but it didn¡¯t mix with the blood properly.

    ¡°If we go back to the stab wound, I noticed that this blood mixture is extremely effective at preventing bleeding. It¡¯s heavier than it should be, though that begs the question of how his heart managed to pump it around his body. I¡¯d cut open an incision to collect one of the bullets and it¡¯d close up right in front of my eyes before I could do anything!¡±

    A mysterious fluid, injected or ingested into the body that could enhance someone¡¯s latent magical abilities and turn them into an unstoppable killing machine. Was it any wonder why the military wanted to get their hands on him before WISA did? Veronica¡¯s brow furrowed further at the implications of the technique getting out.

    ¡°What are the side effects?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say for certain, but I believe that he was about to suffer a cardiac arrest from the elevated amount of activity he performed during the two attacks. I need more time to investigate.¡±

    That was superfluous information. Veronica knew why Bernard risked burning his spot to keep them away from the body now.

    ¡°The last officer who showed up, Bernard, what did he say to you?¡±

    ¡°He came busting through the front door, flashed his badge, and said that he was taking the body into WISA¡¯s custody. He was a violent scrote, that one. I was in the middle of slicing the guy open and he was trying to pull me away.¡±

    ¡°He was here for an hour, but he left in a hurry when he heard that another officer was being arranged to come and look at him,¡± the policeman added.

    ¡°He does right. I¡¯m going to wring his neck when I find him.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t say much of note to us. I turned my back for a moment and he was gone.¡±

    Veronica came to a snap decision. She had some authority to control the situation.

    ¡°Under WISA article five, rule three, I¡¯m ordering both of you into protective information gathering. I don¡¯t want a single other soul taking a look at this body until one of the Superior Officers says so. Nobody¡¯s allowed to look at it, and if they ask you, both of you don¡¯t know a bloody thing. I want that door locked tight.¡±

    John groaned, ¡°PIG again? You know how much I hate PIG.¡±

    ¡°Hate it all you want ¨C but there¡¯s a serious risk of an intelligence leak happening here. Do you want to march your arse into the courts and explain how you had nothing to do with it getting out?¡±

    PIG was a process which WISA agents could deploy at will, save for when they were deployed in the presence of a Superior Officer. Policemen and other affiliated staff like John were given legal protection and could invoke PIG in a court of law should the need arise. In return, they were expected to go into lockdown and avoid speaking with anyone outside of the investigation team.

    Veronica suspected that the stiff was connected to the military. That meant that at the very least his mere existence was highly confidential. There was a heightened risk of sensitive information leaking or interlopers trying to meddle with the investigation. John and the other officers in the morgue were now bound by a strict rule of silence.

    One could ¡®butcher the PIG¡¯ conditionally with permission from the WISA agent who invoked the order.

    ¡°Does this extend to other WISA agents?¡± John inquired.

    ¡°You saw how Bernard was acting earlier. Zip it. Your liaison is Frankfort. I want a full report, autopsy, and a witness statement from everyone in this building about what Bernard did and what he said.¡±

    There was no arguing with Veronica. The order was legally binding upon dispatch, and her word would carry a lot more weight than theirs if it came down to who said what and when. She would have preferred a less severe option, but if she was going to do the job, she was going to do it right.

    ¡°Officer, with me.¡±

    Veronica left the surgery. It was time to tediously question every person in the building...

 Chapter 112

    The end of the next semester came faster than I anticipated. There was little to do regarding the Cedric issue until we got our two weeks away from the academy. I made sure that Franklin sent a letter expressing interest in the next shooting contest to Cedric¡¯s house early so that I was guaranteed to get a response.

    There was no reason for Cedric to suspect that I was looking into him, so he happily accepted my request and invited me to drop by on the day of the game. I put on my best all-weather coat and some matching pants and headed out in the carriage to see what trouble we could get into.

    Adrian was waiting for me at the front of the house. Cedric¡¯s home was less ostentatious than his, but not for the lack of trying. According to Adrian, his Uncle was even more insecure than he was, which was both worrying for his welfare and a promising sign of Adrian reflecting on his behaviour.

    ¡°What a wonderful day for some shooting,¡± he joked as I approached the front porch.

    ¡°That it is. The cloud cover is perfect and the weather is clear.¡±

    Adrian and I planned this entire day out before we arrived. We¡¯d draw our lets in the contest, and I could pick my opportunity to slip away from the crowd and look for some compromising information. Nobody would think twice about a single attendee disappearing for a few minutes. Adrian knew where the office was.

    ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll have to say hello to your Uncle before we get to work.¡±

    Adrian escorted me through the house and into the back garden, where the competition was being held. It was a fairly long walk from the building to the area designated for shooting ¨C but not so long that I couldn''t get away and return in time for my turn at the stand.

    It was a party. Servants were on station to offer whatever the guests desired. A table with food and drinks had been laid beneath the gazebo, along with places for the audience to sit and observe the day¡¯s sport in comfort. No less than sixty or seventy guests were already here at this early hour of the day.

    Cedric was all too eager to greet me, emerging through the bustle of the crowd.

    ¡°Maria! It¡¯s been too long.¡±

    I curtseyed with the edge of my coat, ¡°It has. Thank you for permitting my selfishness. I understand that I sent my request on fairly short notice.¡±

    He smiled, ¡°I¡¯m always glad to have you at these get-togethers. You always put on a good show for the other visitors. I was starting to wonder if you were sick and tired of winning all the time.¡±

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be gracious of me to say something so bold. I¡¯ve been occupied with study at the academy, and I¡¯ve also recently found an affection for tennis.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a fan, personally.¡±

    ¡°I felt the same before I engaged with it. Lance Franzheim can be a very persuasive man with that soft-spoken voice of his. He has me visiting the club room every other day to help him with this or that.¡±

    Cedric offered a polite laugh in response to my meaningless anecdote. As if there wasn¡¯t already enough reason to detest these parties ¨C the simple fact that nobody actually cared to speak to one another was the fundamental rot that turned them into a practice of playing a part rather than enjoying it. He didn¡¯t care. He was laughing because it was ¡®polite¡¯ and showed that he was listening.

    I smiled at Cedric, ¡°I haven¡¯t lost my passion for the sport. It was during an animated debate at the academy that Adrian suggested that we compete again.¡±

    He had no reason to doubt the sincerity of my story, even though it was completely made up and agreed between us before we arrived.

    Cedric loved hosting these shooting competitions. He had an area of his garden cleared especially for them, and had all of the equipment, ammunition and standardized shotguns that he needed to host them at a moment¡¯s notice. Whether it was down to the elbows he could rub or an honest enjoyment of the game was left entirely to interpretation.

    I liked Cedric¡¯s house the most because it was a great place to pilfer ammunition without anyone noticing. Cedric finally turned his attention to Adrian, who was standing silently and observing our conversation from the side-lines.

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem to be all that energized, Adrian. Is something amiss?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯ve been busy lately, so I¡¯m preserving my effort for the contest.¡±

    Cedric was astonished to hear that Adrian wasn¡¯t going to barrage me with his usual complement of challenges, insults and boasts. It was as if he¡¯d woken up one morning and the sky had turned green.

    ¡°And besides ¨C aren¡¯t you always telling me to grow up?¡±

    I sent a look his way. He needed to stop being so overtly hostile to Cedric.

    Cedric gave a fake laugh, ¡°I suppose I did. How are you holding up?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s difficult,¡± Adrian replied plainly. He was trying to keep a cool head now that I was staring at him. ¡°There¡¯s a lot about running a business that I never considered before. My Father understated it.¡±

    Cedric sighed, ¡°I kept telling him to take your education more seriously. I had a bad feeling as soon as he sent you away to that academy. We can only hope that you successfully steer the family¡¯s legacy through these choppy waters.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

    Cedric¡¯s attention was pulled away by another group of visitors arriving from further up the garden. He left Adrian to stew on those words. It was obvious what he was trying to do. He was blowing smoke into his head and trying to make him doubt his ability.

    ¡°Shall we draw our lots?¡± I said.

    We walked to the shooting area, where another table was set up with a box that contained two dozen pieces of finely engraved wood. Each one had a number, and were used to determine in which order each participant would step up and take their shot at the target. A servant manned the station and kept track of who drew what.

    I landed with number five. Adrian got nine. That was just fine by me. Each shooter would step up, load their gun, and have the opportunity to shoot down three pigeons per round, with three rounds per person. An additional sudden death game could be played if competitors tied. This wasn¡¯t the type of format that they awarded trophies for like the ones I had back home. It was for entertaining guests who found the idea of actual competition terrifying and alien.

    I could easily slip away after my first turn, and then come back before they called my named for the next round. It would take them around an hour to work through all of them, not to mention any pedantry or delay they decided to inject into the proceedings.

    ¡°We¡¯re both shooting early,¡± I commented. The servant noted down our names and places, before taking the wooden pieces and placing them into a second box to separate them.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    We found a quiet spot to hide at and waited for our names to be called. The food was pretty good, so I wasted most of my time sneaking stuff away from the buffet table and chowing down next to the gazebo. Adrian was too nervous to eat.

    ¡°I have no idea how you manage to act so casually when we¡¯re planning to do something so dangerous.¡±

    ¡°If you think that I don¡¯t worry about the outcome, then you¡¯re mistaken. Conquering one¡¯s fear is a fantastic way to secure your death. It¡¯s an emotion that we possess for a good reason. Besides ¨C what we¡¯re doing here does not carry that much risk.¡±

    ¡°And if he decides to kill me because I¡¯m snooping around?¡±

    ¡°Very unlikely. I¡¯m going to be the one doing it.¡±

    My words were never going to instil Adrian with confidence in what we were planning, which was why I was going to handle the difficult stuff and break into his Uncle¡¯s office while he kept him busy at the party.

    After counting up the entrants and double-checking the equipment, the contest got underway. I stood back and observed as the first four shooters did their parts, with three succeeding in scoring perfect rounds. When it was my turn to shoot, the crowd watching suddenly paid very close attention to every move I made. There were a lot of comments about how graceful and refined I was ¨C if only they¡¯d seen me with two black eyes and a busted lip.

    I took the shotgun, loaded my shell, and took aim. The servant across the way pulled down on the lever and a single clay plate flew through the air in a long arc. I tracked it using the sights and bided my time until the perfect moment. With a single pull of the trigger, the plate shattered into dust. The crowd applauded. The next two were similarly easy for me to hit.

    I broke the shotgun¡¯s chamber open and handed it to the attendant so that they could prepare it for the next shooter. Adrian was waiting for me by the gazebo.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Are you going to go now?¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°I¡¯ll wait until you¡¯ve had your first turn. I suspect that Cedric thinks we¡¯ve become good friends, and trotting out the bathroom excuse isn¡¯t going to work so soon.¡±

    I observed the other rounds, with the visitors achieving varied levels of success.

    ¡°Number nine, Adrian Roderro!¡±

    The noise picked up again as the prodigal son approached and took the gun into his palms.

    ¡°Pull!¡±

    He braced the butt of the gun against his shoulder and closed one eye. He looked to be in good form, with a solid stance and a good lock on the target as it sailed through the air.

    It was an easy shot to hit. The trajectory of the clay pigeon, the lack of wind, and the overcast skies keeping the sun out of his eyes. This was a rudimentary challenge for Adrian ¨C who obsessed over shooting. He took a moment to line up. In my zeal, I failed to notice that some of the nobles in attendance were speaking while he was at the plate.

    Which is why it came as a surprise to see him pull the trigger and miss. The pigeon flew across the garden and landed somewhere out of sight, still intact. Adrian stared at the smoking barrel of his gun with an equal sense of disdain. I perked my ears up and discovered that those rudely chatting onlookers were talking about Cathdra.

    ¡°Why is he here? Cathdra should be ashamed of himself.¡±

    ¡°Did you hear about what happened? He looks so haggard.¡±

    ¡°I give him a month before he gives up.¡±

    That was odd, considering they¡¯d all accepted an invitation to a party hosted by his brother, but I¡¯d long since accepted that none of these people acted rationally. They were a herd of sheep following along with what anyone said, as long as it was declared loudly and confidentially.

    And then it happened again. The second pigeon also eluded him. For a moment I started to think that Adrian was going to be the first competitor to score zero points, but the third and final pigeon was not going to be passed up. He fired and deftly destroyed it in the manner which I originally expected him to.

    Adrian walked back to my side with a face like a drowning puppy. I¡¯d never seen him so dejected before. He usually let his failures roll right off his back, or he turned them into outraged motivation to try again later and finally prove me wrong.

    ¡°What was that? I haven¡¯t seen you miss a shot that easy in years.¡±

    Adrian bristled, ¡°It was nothing.¡±

    ¡°It didn¡¯t look like nothing from where I was standing. You¡¯re letting them get to you. I thought you had a frosty relationship with your Father ¨C why are you getting so thrown off balance by those nattering fools speaking ill of him?¡±

    ¡°Because it isn¡¯t about him. Whatever my Father did is passed down to me. I¡¯ve been made to bear the responsibility of his decisions, even when I wanted nothing to do with Beatrice Booker in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Normally you¡¯d let that kind of talk wash over you.¡±

    Adrian disagreed, ¡°Do you think that I never listened to the things people were saying about me? It¡¯s hard to break their perception of you once they¡¯ve become set in their ways and expect you to behave in a certain manner. Now it¡¯s worse than ever. I¡¯m not just a boorish child with a short fuse, but I¡¯m now implicated in my Father¡¯s malicious schemes.¡±

    The next competitor was already moving towards the plate.

    ¡°We can talk about this later. I have to go to the washroom.¡±

    Adrian nodded, ¡°Fine.¡±

    I moved around the back of the gazebo and tried not to draw any attention to myself as I powdered back up the hill and towards the house. Adrian had already filled me in on the layout, including where Cedric¡¯s office was located. All I had to do was get in and out without being seen.

    Since most of the staff were presently engaged in entertaining the guests and keeping the contest running, that was a simple task. The doors had been left open in case the guests wished to find some shade or use the bathroom, but that was like inviting me to have free reign of the entire building. I quickly checked the doors until I found one that gave way and allowed me to break containment.

    The office wasn¡¯t far off the beaten path. A simple oak door barred my entry. I pulled my lockpicking tools from my pocket and got down onto one knee so that I could see what I was doing.

    The tools were overkill because this lock was about as secure as a wet paper bag. A simple rake attack was enough to jostle the pins into place and flip it open. I quickly pocketed my tools again and slipped inside before one of the servants found me where I shouldn¡¯t have been.

    There was no time to stand there and admire the d¨¦cor. I hurried over to the desk and started searching for any information that could clue me into what he was doing. My search of the blackmail chest had me turning up empty-handed. Cedric was smart enough to keep his name off of their internal documents at the very least. I also couldn¡¯t rule out the possibility that he wasn¡¯t involved with them. There were a lot of groups out there who shared information, and if Cedric was only providing tips, then they wouldn¡¯t have to include him in the plot on any grander level.

    It was important that I kept all of his belongings where he¡¯d left them. People were very good at noticing when someone had entered a room and moved things around, and that would arouse unwanted paranoia about who was looking into his business.

    Cedric was working on a handful of different projects ¨C but only one was notable enough in terms of scale to catch my eye at a glance.

    ¡°Church Walk Redevelopment Plan?¡±

    There were no personal notes or documents attached, but it was obvious that this particular scheme was dominating Cedric¡¯s attention. There was a list of investors and collaborators, but not the type I associated with criminal business. I shook my head as the list of names kept going and going and going. It was a veritable who¡¯s who from every noble family in and around the capital city.

    While that was helpful to know, there was no indication within the documentation that Cedric needed Adrian dead to get what he wanted out of it. It looked as if they were planning on buying up a bunch of property and land in the most deprived areas of the city. They could pump the prices up by coordinating the development and gentrifying the area.

    Cedric had already put up a huge amount of his own liquid cash and even mortgaged some of his other assets to invest in the scheme. He was one of the biggest investors amongst some extremely affluent company. Killing Adrian would speculatively help him pay off his debts, but he was hoping that the return on his investment would cover all of that.

    It all hinged on his tolerance for risk. There was a financial risk attached to a project as ambitious as this, but there was also the looming threat of being made an example of by the justice system in Adrian were to be harmed. The Cathdra incident had outraged the nation¡¯s wider society. To them, it was a clear example of how there were two very different sets of rules depending on your social status.

    In the runup to the trial ¨C most commentators pessimistically believed that Cathdra would walk away with a comparative slap on the wrist. They were proven wrong when the prosecutors pushed for a harsh sentence and accused him of conspiracy to commit murder. Ten years behind bars was handed down, with a few being knocked off from the guideline because he confessed before the trial date.

    The message was loud and clear. The justice system was not going to lose the faith of the populace by playing games with nobles like Cathdra. The increasingly diverse group of people in parliament and the courts meant that the dial was being twisted back to the middle. Nobles could expect somewhat equal treatment if they went out of step again.

    Of course, the rub was whether the police had the will and clean air to investigate them in the first place. A law wasn¡¯t a law if nobody was willing to enforce it, and the ground-level corruption that occurred when lots of money was thrown around was a key issue that the house was eager to take care of.

    In an announcement soon after his conviction ¨C the justice minister announced that more time and resources would be dedicated to crime prevention, targeting conspiracies and organized gangs before they could strike. It might have had something to do with the families of the men killed at the Theatre shooting lobbying for it, but the outcome was the outcome.

    Getting caught was the key factor that determined someone¡¯s willingness to commit a crime. The promise of more investigators and a more equal approach to justice was going to be a major deterrent to people like Cedric, who lived in relative comfort and didn¡¯t want to risk it without a good reason.

    The best course of action would be to probe Cedric for details. I wanted to get a read on how confident he felt about his investment in the plan. As of that moment, it was the only motivating factor I could see beyond his natural ambition. I double-checked the rest of the papers for details and memorized as much as I could.

    With that done I hurried out of the office. I couldn¡¯t lock the door without the key, so I pulled it shut and hoped that Cedric would write it off as him forgetting to do it before the party. All of his papers were in the same place as before. No harm, no foul.

    I evaded the staff stalking the corridors and escaped back into the garden. Adrian was still in his spot by the gazebo when I returned.

    ¡°Back already?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Thankfully there was no line for the washroom this time around.¡±

    ¡°Any reading material?¡±

    ¡°There was! I took a look but most of them were useless. There was a large number of papers for a ¡®Church Walk¡¯ project.¡±

    ¡°I think I overheard some of them talking about that, some kind of property development deal they¡¯re trying to cut in the city.¡±

    ¡°It looks as if they are aiming to purchase every piece of available property in the district ¨C even the historical ones. One of the letters was between Cedric and an investor speaking about public messaging to counter a preservation group.¡±

    ¡°Why would they want to preserve that hellhole?¡± Adrian scoffed.

    ¡°They are not there to preserve the gang violence, idiot. Church Walk is filled with historic buildings, even if the rest of the area has suffered from severe deprivation over the years. Demolishing those religious sites would be a deadly blow to our collective history.¡±

    Resistance from campaign groups and the reluctance of the residents who lived there to sell on would be hurdles for the project to overcome. Hellhole or not ¨C some people identified very strongly with where they lived. Multiple generations of the same family would occupy a home and pass it down to each eldest child.

    There was a large working-class contingent in Church Walk. Many of them travelled to the industrial area by the waterside on foot. If relocating threatened their jobs they¡¯d also refuse to sell.

    Adrian spoke up again, ¡°Knocking everything down and building new homes and parks, even if they do all of that, Church Walk has a terrible reputation. I doubt that anyone would be willing to live there right away.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯re correct, but your Uncle doesn¡¯t see it that way. He¡¯s leveraged a huge amount of his assets to become one of the lead investors. If it were to go wrong...¡±

    ¡°He¡¯d be in rags,¡± Adrian murmured. It was an appealing prospect in his eyes.

    I kept my voice low; ¡°Surely being in possession of your family¡¯s full business empire would provide a safety net for him. I could not find any direct evidence connecting him to the Monarchists and Scuncath.¡±

    ¡°That would be too easy. We have a starting point at least.¡±

    Irritatingly, knowing this information meant that I¡¯d have to rub elbows with the other attendees to try and catch if they were speaking about it. I came from a well-off family and my Father¡¯s name wasn¡¯t on the investor¡¯s list, so it was probable that at least one of them would try to sneak a pitch through the back door and get it to him via me.

    Before we could worry about that, it was time for me to have my second turn with the gun.

    ¡°Try not to humiliate yourself,¡± Adrian sniped.

    ¡°I¡¯m not on the bottom of the score sheet right now,¡± I fired back.

 Chapter 113

    Adrian¡¯s shooting never got any better after that. He was still fuming over what the other guests were saying about him. In total he only managed to hit three of the nine potential targets, planting him firmly in the bottom quarter of the scorecard. I, on the other hand, successfully ran a perfect game ¨C which easily secured me the win.

    There was no trophy to be awarded, just polite applause from the spectators. Adrian wasn¡¯t concerned about that though. He was already asking me for my conclusion on what Cedric was up to.

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    ¡°Looking at it objectively, I see no solid evidence to confirm that Cedric was the one who leaked that information. His involvement in an extremely risky property development scheme might prove to be an effective motivator to take control of your assets.¡±

    ¡°He did seem to be fishing for that when I spoke with him.¡±

    ¡°He was?¡±

    ¡°Yes. He kept asking me about how the businesses were doing and if I was handling the stress. He¡¯s going to ask me to offload them onto him eventually, and he¡¯ll offer a bad price given that he¡¯s already low on cash.¡±

    He was going to offer a bad price no matter his financial situation. Cedric wasn¡¯t about to spend any more than he absolutely had to. He wasn¡¯t going to do Adrian a favour, he just wanted to exploit him and his inexperience. There was no love lost between these two - that much was clear.

    Adrian steered us back on track, ¡°Listen ¨C I don¡¯t care about what Cedric decides to spend his money on. I want to know if he¡¯s trying to get me killed.¡±

    ¡°I never said I was a skilled detective.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re a bloody know-it-all, and you don¡¯t filter that through a bunch of stupid detective novels like Claude does.¡±

    ¡°He is an idiot, but he has a strange way of stumbling across the right answer if you give him enough time.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t bet on it.¡±

    I considered our options. The big chest of blackmail was a bust, and I didn¡¯t see anything in the office that we could use, so what else was there for us to do? I spoke with Cedric a few more times between rounds and tried to steer the conversation in that direction, but he was steadfast about keeping what he said on the level.

    ¡°Patience is a virtue. You should never anticipate finding all of the answers right away. The problem is that Cedric has been keeping himself at arm¡¯s length from whoever he deals with. Has he ever expressed explicitly Monarchist sympathies?¡±

    ¡°The opposite. He finds all of the squabbling tiring,¡± Adrian explained.

    ¡°Then either he is a skilled liar who¡¯s been pulling the wool over your eyes for years, or he sees his connection to the Monarchists as purely business. A man like him could easily arrange meetings with any number of prominent members and hand over compromising details without anyone finding out.¡±

    These were all meaningless deductions.

    ¡°What do you think he asked for in exchange for information about the watch?¡±

    ¡°That depends on who he was speaking to, it would have to be someone in a position to offer him a concession that he desired. Likely a member of parliament or someone connected with them, or a potential business partner. Legal and financial aims are the core of what he¡¯s doing.¡±

    Adrian wasn¡¯t happy, ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean that there¡¯ll be no evidence for us to find? There¡¯s no way that any of those people will be truthful with a pair of kids like us.¡±

    He was correct. This could have played out as a quiet discussion in the backroom of some smoking parlour between Adrian and any number of people. The only determinative fact was that the person he spoke with had to have been a part of the conspiracy operated by Lady Rentree before her untimely death. They were the people who took the watch.

    ¡°In the absence of better options, I would strongly suggest that you ensure there are people you can trust at the estate from now on.¡±

    Adrian opened his mouth to reply but I cut him off.

    ¡°And don¡¯t give me an excuse about not having anyone you trust. I already know that you fired every single servant who used to work at your house. Honestly. You continue to baffle me.¡±

    Adrian retracted his defensive response and groaned into his hands.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want anyone hired by my Father to be in the house after what happened.¡±

    ¡°Did the spectators upset you by implying that you admire him in some way?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t... I don¡¯t hate my Father. I can¡¯t bring myself to, really. Every time I think about it, I get angry with him all over again. He rushed ahead without listening to what I said and ended up in jail because of it. I should hate him. I¡¯ve never felt this much stress in my life before. Is it even possible to?¡±

    ¡°It is. There are some families who genuinely hate one another with all of their heart.¡±

    Adrian jumped headfirst into emotionally fraught territory without considering the consequences; ¡°Like what happened between you and your Mother?¡±

    I stared for long enough to make him extremely uncomfortable ¨C just for kicks.

    ¡°Actually, that was the first time we¡¯d ever met one another.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s jaw dropped, ¡°You... that was the first time you¡¯d ever met? And you got into a bloody fistfight with her?¡±

    ¡°I suppose it was. With that said, I hardly hate the woman. We merely had a difference of opinion about potentially unleashing a horde of intra-veil demons unto the world using that book.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a good reason to hate someone,¡± Adrian countered.

    ¡°The point I¡¯m making is that she and I have spoken with each other, at most, for around an hour collectively. She gave birth to me and left the estate at her earliest convenience. I am indifferent to her.¡±

    ¡°Indifference sounds good to me.¡±

    ¡°From the outside looking in, I can say that your Father doesn¡¯t hate you. In his eyes ¨C it was all justified in giving you the future that he believed you would come to like in time.¡±

    ¡°He wanted me to be like him.¡±

    ¡°Maybe so. True hate, familial hate, is different to that. It¡¯s a wholesale rejection of everything that a child represents. They become a malevolent force, the source of all their self-prescribed woes, and the singular reason why they haven¡¯t achieved what they want.¡±

    Adrian silently shook his head. There was a part of him that refused to accept that a toxic relationship like that was even possible. It was so alien to most people that they would naturally reject the idea. Even Cedric, despite his attempts to have Adrian killed, couldn¡¯t match up to that type of animosity. It was a hatred that eclipsed all else.

    It was funny. There were a lot of folk who believed that I was raised in that type of household. In their eyes, the only possible way to become a man who killed for money was for him to be abused, neglected and beaten. They were afraid to admit the truth ¨C that the pure pressure of economic forces was the sole drive behind my actions. It was a job I did to pay my bills. This belief simultaneously served to alienate people who were raised in abusive households and to reject the premise that something as universal as needing cash could drive someone to extreme lengths.

    It was all prejudice at the end of the day.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what your Father wants. He¡¯s in jail, and you have to deal with this Cedric issue with your own two hands.¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯re at a dead end.¡±

    ¡°To an extent. This development project at Church Walk could be a potent motivator, or it could freeze him from taking any drastic action. It depends on the balance between his fecklessness and sense of caution.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say trying to get me killed by cultists is pretty reckless already.¡±

    ¡°Not if he¡¯s keeping his name and face away from the culprits. Laundering your desires through others, who are also sworn to secrecy, is a powerful tool in the wrong hands. That is how criminal gangs tend to operate.¡±

    I was starting to sound like Claude. I took a bite of the scone that I had pilfered from the buffet table and considered what we could do next. I would have liked to know more about the regeneration project, but the only family listed on the planning document whom I was personally connected with were the Abdahs.

    ¡°It would be simpler if we could ask Maxwell about it. His family was listed on the-¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say that from the start?¡± Adrian grumbled, ¡°I spoke with him before I approached you to get his advice about this. He¡¯s obviously going to be okay telling us what he knows!¡±

    ¡°I was not aware that you two were friends.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s overstating it.¡±

    I stroked my chin, ¡°Maxwell won¡¯t be personally involved. He does not have a position of responsibility at the moment. The best we can hope for is hearsay unless he elects to do some investigating of his own.¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Better than nothing. If it was his Father or his brothers, he could hopefully pry some more compromising details from them without arousing any suspicion. They¡¯d be happy to hear their youngest member becoming more curious about their business.

    ¡°If we¡¯re going to visit, we should do it soon. His estate is on the way back from here.¡±

    ¡°You want to go today? He might not even be there.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s worth a try. What are they going to do, arrest us for asking?¡±

    It was going to be pretty late by the time we passed through the town where he and Claude lived. It was probable that the servants would turn us away at the gate for not asking for an invitation.

    ¡°Fine. We can visit. I wish you would have said so sooner, I could have made plans...¡±

    I placed my empty glass down on the buffet table and cracked my knuckles.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to say goodbye to your Uncle?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Adrian said bluntly, ¡°I¡¯ve had enough of him for one day.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°...And that¡¯s what he really got up in my face, yelling at me, saying that I didn¡¯t have the legal authority to check the body with him around.¡±

    ¡°But he never invoked P.I.G?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Didn¡¯t say a word about any of that.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s brow furrowed as more pieces of information fell into place. Bernard Jones appeared at the station unprompted and started obstructing the investigation by threatening to arrest the officers, and when that didn¡¯t work he then threatened to report them to his superior. According to two of the witnesses who saw him, he was very flustered, and in a hurry to keep the body away from them.

    The instant he caught on to the fact that he was being kept there so Veronica could wring his neck, he fled through the back door and disappeared. The only reason to avoid utilising PIG was because it was one of the few ways to receive a harsh disciplinary from your handler. Misuse of the article to obstruct an ongoing investigation with intent would make his head roll. He was trying to get the right outcome without risking his position at the agency.

    That went out of the window the moment he heard that Veronica was on the prowl. He understood what that meant. He was about to be a few broken bones richer for the experience. The grounds under which he tried to keep the body isolated were spurious at best, providing several different excuses depending on who was speaking with him.

    ¡°Are you saying that he wasn¡¯t dispatched by the head office?¡± the policeman wondered.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m only here because he was spotted starting trouble, but they¡¯ll be interested in learning more about the situation now. Normally it would take a few days for the case to be referred to us by the Interior Minister.¡±

    Veronica couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the body. She believed that nothing would top the appearance of demons in her mind, but seeing a human body twisted in such a strange manner was more effecting than she first thought. Even before a pair of bystanders filled him with holes ¨C he looked like a dead man walking.

    The unusual circumstances of that shooting were the bread and butter of what WISA investigated. It could pose a threat to internal security, and the involvement of ambitious figures in government was a red flag that would not be so easily ignored. Veronica learnt the hard way that sometimes the greatest threats came from within, by people who believed they were helping. They often did more harm than good.

    Someone called in a favour to send Bernard into the morgue. They didn¡¯t want the police or WISA getting their hands on the body in the long term, which meant it was going to be a key piece of evidence moving forward.

    ¡°Will he come back and try it again?¡±

    ¡°If he has any sense, no. He used his one shot and missed, now he¡¯s running for the nearest safehouse to see if it all blows over. Now I have to waste my damn time chasing him around until we find him.¡±

    Victoria snapped her notebook shut and left the office so that she could speak with John again. She found him lurking around the bodies on the ground floor. Some of the gang members who¡¯d been killed by the sickly stranger were now in his custody.

    ¡°What¡¯s the tally?¡± Veronica asked.

    ¡°Nine of ¡®em. I¡¯ve never seen it be this bad, even when they were fighting with Tee¡¯s boys on the reg. You¡¯re telling me that one person did all of this damage?¡±

    ¡°I only have what the witness report told me. According to the people who were there, the stiff that Brandon is interested in was the one who killed them.¡±

    ¡°I think they should have dealt with the Walk gang before this incident, to be honest. There¡¯s going to be all kinds of violence kicking off over this. Why the hell do we keep ignoring them?¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°Most of them don¡¯t commit any offences, and when you put one behind bars, five more people are there to replace them. The police and WISA have bigger problems to worry about. The one who killed them doesn¡¯t have any identifiable gang markings anyway.¡±

    Perhaps if Church Walk and the surrounding areas were more secure and affluent, the problem would naturally go away. A lot of otherwise good working people joined gangs because it provided them with protection from other criminals, and they often had family connections inside the gang that would motivate them to help out and keep quiet when the police came knocking.

    John frowned, ¡°That isn¡¯t going to stop ¡®em. They¡¯ll lash out at whoever they think is responsible for it.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nobody to lash out at,¡± she repeated, ¡°Tee¡¯s Gang is scattered to the four corners of the country, the Sumaiyans are keeping well out of the way, and the Ruda People¡¯s Movement isn¡¯t positioned to start a fight.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll find someone to start a spat with ¨C as surely as the sun comes up in the morning and sets in the evening. It doesn¡¯t have to make any sense.¡±

    Veronica hated that John was probably in the right. The most likely targets would be the police, who were always on the receiving end of their ire for any number of grievances both real and imagined. There was no trust between the two sides, and that made policing the area incredibly difficult.

    There was a commotion coming from the lobby, and that made Veronica¡¯s hunch pick up. She left John to his tasks and walked to the double doors at the front of the morgue, where a small group of policemen were looking through the fogged windows at the large group that was gathering out front.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to release a statement,¡± one of them worried.

    ¡°I¡¯ll handle it,¡± Veronica insisted, ¡°I was the one who invoked PIG. I don¡¯t want them to know any more than it takes to move them away from the building. Stay here.¡±

    Veronica walked onto the steps and made sure that the door was closed. A veritable mob of citizens from the Church Walk had gathered outside of the morgue, with a heavy-set man leading the charge. Veronica recognized him on sight. It was Robert Van Gervan, the man widely suspected of being the present leader of the Church Walk gang. Veronica put on her best public relations face and offered a grim expression to communicate how seriously she was taking their soon-to-be-shared complaints.

    Robert Van Gervan scowled and wagged his fist, ¡°I want some answers! I just got word that some of my boys got stabbed to death, and if I don¡¯t get answers right away, I won¡¯t be responsible for what happens!¡±

    ¡°The police did recover nine victims from an attack on Church Walk earlier today. Their bodies are currently under our custody, and will undergo an analysis before the identification process begins.¡±

    Veronica let slip enough info to knock the wind out of his sails. Blowhards like him always wanted an obstacle to bowl over with their outrage and bluster. If that barrier gave way or moved with him, then it would naturally diffuse some of the tension and keep the stakes low.

    ¡°And what about the poor families? They¡¯re going to have to wait and wait, without knowing what¡¯s going on!¡±

    ¡°I appreciate your frustration ¨C but it¡¯s standard practice for the police to perform a post-mortem of the victims so that a full investigation can be completed. That will be done with haste, and the bodies will be released into the family¡¯s custody within the next three days.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to trust the word of some bloody coppers,¡± Robert declared.

    ¡°You asked for answers and that is what I gave you.¡±

    ¡°And what about the bloke who did it? I bet he¡¯s still roaming the streets waiting to strike again.¡±

    Veronica resisted the immense urge to comment on the hypocrisy of that statement. She saw Robert as nothing more than a parasite, dressing himself up in a well-meaning fa?ade by exploiting people¡¯s distrust towards authority. If the civilians who gathered out front with him knew half of what his gang was responsible for, they would not be so happy to stand beside him.

    ¡°Oh no, he¡¯s quite dead. There¡¯s no doubt about that. His body has also been recovered, and we have eyewitness reports confirming that he was the one responsible for the attack. Now, the investigation is still ongoing ¨C so I cannot spare more details than that at this time.¡±

    ¡°Typical. Covering up for what really happened again!¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s your issue, then they¡¯d be more than happy to hear your side of the story about how this incident started. You appear to have testimony that could be helpful to the case.¡±

    Rudolf bristled at the insinuation, ¡°My lads didn¡¯t start shit! They were minding their own business. I don¡¯t speak to coppers. I have half a mind to lead these good people through those doors and find out the truth.¡±

    The crowd cheered the incredibly reckless idea like the feckless sheep they were. Veronica¡¯s patient mask could only sustain so much damage, and every word that came from Robert¡¯s mouth pushed her closer to the edge. He thought himself a man who didn¡¯t know the true meaning of fear ¨C but Veronica was confident that he had never dealt with her when she was angry before.

    ¡°I would strongly recommend that you not interfere with the police¡¯s work. It will only cause undue delay.¡±

    Robert stepped closer to the stairway, ¡°And what are you gonna¡¯ do about it, lass?¡±

    Veronica crossed her arms and laughed, making sure to ¡®gently¡¯ brush one side of her jacket open to momentarily reveal the holstered pistol that rested against her chest. Robert froze, his eyes wide in shock at an implicit threat being made by an officer of the law.

    ¡°Normally you¡¯d be charged with interfering with a criminal investigation, as for the situation we face now, I¡¯m not even at liberty to say what the punishment would be. You should be confident in the belief that it will be far, far worse than a trespassing charge and a slap on the wrist. Are you willing to risk that to prove a meaningless point?¡±

    That was the wrong way to phrase it, and Veronica regretted challenging him by trying to make light of the situation. It wasn¡¯t meaningless to him. He was throwing his weight around to try and preserve his position as a community leader. This was the carrot side of his gang operation, with the violent crime being the ever-present stick. People like him hated being challenged. It wasn¡¯t about the bodies now. This was about saving face.

    ¡°Watch your mouth! Do you have any idea of who you¡¯re talking to?¡±

    Veronica nodded, ¡°Robert Van Gervan. Fifty-two, born into a family of labourers, moved into the city at twenty-three. Committed his first criminal offence two months later. Charged with property damage, assault, theft, and trafficking and was the first person to ever be prosecuted under the Criminal Organizations Act. Widely considered to be the leading member of the Church Street gang and their subsidiaries.¡±

    Robert''s face was like thunder, ¡°Is that meant to scare me?¡±

    Veronica closed the gap between them and placed a firm hand on his shoulder; ¡°No. That isn¡¯t the scary stuff. I know more about you than you know about yourself.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    ¡°You said you don¡¯t trust coppers. Here¡¯s the issue ¨C I¡¯m not a copper. I¡¯m much, much worse news than your average bobby on the beat. So you can believe me when I say this. You so much as touch that front door and I¡¯ll ask the coroner to reserve another slab for you."

    She shoved him back into the worried throng of onlookers. Veronica, normally composed even under stressful circumstances, could feel the vein bulging on her forehead. She was furious. She was so angry that she couldn¡¯t think straight. This was supposed to be nothing but a distraction, yet her emotional state was thrown into abject chaos by an otherwise pointless confrontation.

    In the back of her mind, her rational self was already crying out. This was because of what happened with Maria. She was off-balance. She¡¯d dedicated dozens of hours to trawling the archives and asking questions, but was no closer to discovering how, when and why Maria learned to kill in the same manner that she did. That frustration was boiling over and making a terrible mess of what should have been a simple situation.

    That fury was evident to Robert and the others. Robert was upset about how the confrontation had transpired, but he was also cognizant of his responsibility to keep those with him safe from harm. This was supposed to be a fact-finding mission, and if his hunch about the strange woman was correct, she wouldn¡¯t hesitate to shoot him dead then and there if he crossed her a second time.

    ¡°I¡¯ll remember this,¡± he warned ominously.

    The crowd dispersed, with Robert taking some of the affected relatives away from the morgue building and back to their homes. Veronica kept a keen eye on them, ensuring that they left before she turned back and returned to the officers inside.

    ¡°I want eyes on every entrance. If you see Robert Van Gervan or any of his gang members, you shoot them on sight.¡±

    ¡°On sight?¡± the officer at the door echoed, ¡°Are you certain?¡±

    ¡°Is there a problem with my order, officer?¡±

    ¡°No Ma¡¯am. On sight it is.¡±

 Chapter 114

    To my boundless surprise, not only was Max present at his estate when we arrived that evening after leaving Cedric¡¯s home, but we were also welcomed through the front gate after one of the guards returned to the main building and let him know who was here to see him. The carriages were pulled up the stone driveway and brought us to the doorstep of the Abdah family home.

    ¡°What an odd building,¡± Adrian commented.

    The Abdahs weren¡¯t interested in following the crowd when it came to the exterior design of their custom-built homestead. There were touches of their home culture hidden throughout, and the layout of the building eschewed the philosophy of three to four-story chateau that was a regular sight amongst the nobility. The Abdah home was spread outwards to utilise as much of the space available as possible.

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly different from the usual Walserian style.¡±

    Max was waiting for us by the front door.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you again so soon. It¡¯s only been two days.¡±

    ¡°I was beside myself with a sense of grief that we ever had to part,¡± I joked.

    Max didn¡¯t get it; ¡°Is she trying to make me laugh?¡±

    Adrian nodded, ¡°She does, sometimes.¡±

    I struck that type of joke from my internal list and moved on.

    ¡°While it would be nice to say that we have no ulterior motives for visiting, a pressing matter has arisen that we¡¯d like to speak with you about.¡±

    Max sighed, ¡°It¡¯s about the Cedric situation, isn¡¯t it? Come in.¡±

    The reception room was similar to the outside in its uniqueness. A mixture of vibrant oranges and greens contrasted with earthy tones of beige and brown. The fixtures were made from unpainted wood. There were interesting pieces of abstract art on the walls and landscapes taken from the Abdah''s home country across the sea.

    ¡°This is a very nice house,¡± I commented.

    ¡°Really? I thought it wouldn¡¯t be to your taste,¡± Max responded.

    ¡°Seeing the same architectural features at every manor does grate on my nerves. I was starting to think that there wasn¡¯t a single original idea among the nobility.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not exactly original. There are houses like these all over where the other half of our family lives. They¡¯re designed to make hot weather more tolerable during the summer. They also don¡¯t like stairs very much.¡±

    ¡°I noticed.¡±

    Max escorted us into one of the sitting rooms. We all gathered around a small table positioned near the front-facing window so that we could have a private chat about what was going on with Cedric.

    ¡°I¡¯m amazed that Adrian worked up the courage to ask you for a favour,¡± Max laughed. He was obviously nervous about this meeting and was trying to break the ice with some levity.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make me think about how to pay her back,¡± Adrian despaired.

    ¡°None of what we¡¯ve done thus far has been stressful enough to demand payment,¡± I assured him, ¡°All we did was poke around Cedric¡¯s home for more information.¡±

    Max frowned, ¡°My Father isn¡¯t home at the moment so there¡¯ll be no grand dinner to worry about ¨C but I¡¯d still like to get to the point. Adrian already told me that he was worried about what Cedric was up to, did you find anything of note?¡±

    Adrian took a deep breath, ¡°Actually, we found out that your family is involved in his next project. You¡¯re the only person who¡¯s personally connected to us through him.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about any kind of project. What was it called?¡±

    ¡°The Church Walk Regeneration Plan.¡±

    Max¡¯s eyes sharpened as a scant recollection of that name lingered in the back of his head.

    ¡°Muwah might have mentioned that once or twice recently,¡± Max revealed.

    ¡°Muwah?¡±

    ¡°My older brother. Our Father always tries to encourage us to get familiar with the business world through our own personal projects. Muwah and Odeh get a small cut of the revenue from our trading and shipping companies, under the provision that they use it to invest in new ventures. I¡¯m not old enough for that yet.¡±

    ¡°The problem is that him getting involved in a business scheme isn¡¯t solid evidence that he¡¯s trying to off me. The only avenue we have at the moment is to ask you for hints about what this regeneration plan is.¡±

    Max thought about it while we waited. He was straining to remember what his brother shared over dinner, or at random times of the day while he wasn¡¯t paying him his full attention. Max and his brothers had a good relationship from what I could tell, but Max¡¯s insecurities about his place in the family hierarchy meant that he didn¡¯t enjoy listening to what they were working on.

    ¡°As far as I recall, a bunch of bigwigs are getting together and pooling their money for a big property project in that area. Muwah must be one of them. But he never shared any troubling dirt about it with me, and I don¡¯t believe he¡¯s ever said Cedric¡¯s name in that context.¡±

    Adrian groaned and leaned back in his seat, ¡°Great. Another dead end.¡±

    ¡°Did you seriously expect me to know what your uncle is up to? I would have said so before. And before you ask ¨C my brother doesn¡¯t keep a bunch of work documents lying around the house.¡±

    I tried a new approach, ¡°Is your brother a large investor in the project?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a lot of money, but not enough to make him an important voice in the inner circle. He¡¯s going along for the ride and hoping that he makes off with a big profit. No offence to him, but he¡¯s never been one for reading too heavily into the fine print.¡±

    ¡°They plan to buy up all the property around Church Walk and demolish the place, as far as I can tell. I suspect that it will not be as simple as described to people like your brother.¡±

    ¡°Why not? Money seems to cure all ills.¡±

    ¡°Money is the problem. A lot of the residents in Church Walk live there because they can easily access the factories nearby. A lot of them work in those factories, and they¡¯ll be resistant to giving up their homes because of it. They could get a good profit from selling on, but is it in their best interest if it causes them to lose their jobs?¡±

    Housing in the city was becoming extremely competitive. A lot was being built, but the demand was still outstripping the supply, and the homes built outside of the city centre were less convenient when it came to waking up early in the morning for a long shift. There was also their emotional investment in the house. They will have been passed down through multiple generations, with most living family members still occupying it together.

    Max wavered back and forth, ¡°That may be true but the list of names is surely enough to brute force their way into success. They have a significant amount of capital to throw around.¡±

    ¡°Not if they want to make the biggest profit possible,¡± I countered, ¡°They won¡¯t want to pay any more than they can get away with. It¡¯ll be a series of long and arduous negotiations with each property owner. Not to mention the public outcry should they choose to demolish a historic building. There are churches there that are hundreds of years old.¡±

    They weren¡¯t in amazing shape ¨C but that was nothing a little restoration work couldn¡¯t fix.

    ¡°My uncle has no patience for that sort of thing. He wants results as soon as possible and doesn¡¯t like it when there are obstacles. The apple didn¡¯t fall too far from the tree for him or my father, or for me,¡± Adrian complained.

    ¡°I highly doubt that your short temper is inherited.¡±

    ¡°Whatever,¡± he said dismissively.

    ¡°I could try to ask Muwah about the project later. He¡¯ll be more than happy to tell me whatever I want.¡±

    ¡°Are you two close?¡± I queried.

    Max looked sour, ¡°Ah. I suppose you could say that. I¡¯d describe Muwah as... enthused.¡±

    That was a polite way of saying ¡®an overeager pain in the ass.¡¯ Having an excitable Labrador of an older brother served our purposes just fine. He¡¯d sink his teeth into any opportunity to spend time with Maxwell. What could possibly attract him more than the chance to induct him into what he was working on? Even better ¨C there was no reason for him to suspect wrongdoing by Max.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    It was low-risk and potentially high reward. There was no reason to turn it down.

    Adrian moved in for the kill, ¡°I hate to ask so many favours of you, but would it be too much to ask for you to speak with Muwah about the project? I¡¯m not expecting any important dirt from him, but it could be helpful to us in the future.¡±

    Max swayed from side to side as he tried to balance out the two sides of the issue. A small part of him did want to help Adrian, and it wasn¡¯t a huge challenge to simply speak with his brother. On the other hand, Adrian was starting to rely on him for a variety of different problems. The two had engaged in several lengthy, private discussions about his well-being back at the academy. Was now the time to put his foot down and deliver some tough love?

    ¡°I¡¯ll try, but I¡¯m not on board with each and every idea you two cook up. Maria, you have a terrible habit of getting into trouble.¡±

    ¡°Tell me something I don¡¯t know,¡± I griped.

    I would have loved to have stayed away from this dilemma and relaxed for a while. The pragmatic part of my brain wouldn¡¯t let me. If I let the clock tick up while standing idly by, it was possible that a story-important character like Adrian could get killed.

    This stuff was already far afield of what happened in the game. Theodore Van Walser was a non-factor at this point despite being one of the primary antagonists. That meant I couldn¡¯t rely on my knowledge of the game to ease me through what was happening. It was maddening how different the course of events became if Maria simply stayed out of Samantha¡¯s way. She really was the cause of all of her problems.

    ¡°I only want to know some more about the project,¡± Adrian said, ¡°I don¡¯t see any other path to take if not for this one.¡±

    Max rolled his eyes and relented, ¡°Sure would be helpful if you could simply report him to the police...¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not going to take me seriously without any evidence.¡±

    ¡°I can ask Muwah about it. I still don¡¯t see how this will help you figure out if your uncle is trying to bury you in a shallow grave.¡±

    ¡°Do you have to put it in those dire terms?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Yes I do.¡±

    He was in no position to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so the agreement was made.

    <hr>

    ¡°Any luck locating Agent Jones?¡±

    Veronica shook her head and closed the door behind her, ¡°No. There¡¯s no sign of him anywhere. He¡¯s not going to go back to the morgue with me keeping an eye on it. I decided to drop by and deliver the autopsy report by hand.¡±

    She handed over a heavy folder to Ms Frankfort. Inside were the collective fruits of their effort in investigating the strange corpse. Veronica took a seat while her handler read through all of the information that was presented in the documents. It was formatted like a normal autopsy paper ¨C but there were additional pages towards the end that they were forced to add as the situation developed.

    ¡°The coroner concluded that he died from a combination of stab and gunshot wounds.¡±

    ¡°Yes. The body was in such a state when he got his hands on it that he missed the stab wounds completely at first. It looks like the gang members he murdered were able to fight back to some extent. The bullet wounds were all caused by the two men he attacked afterwards.¡±

    Frankfort had a troubled expression on her well-aged features. Gang violence was nothing new to WISA. The past few years had been the most peaceful she could remember in terms of gangs battling for supremacy, but the collapse of Tee¡¯s Gang left something of a power vacuum down by the dockside. For now ¨C the gangs weren¡¯t openly at war with one another.

    The man who killed the Church Walk group was not expressly affiliated with any of them. None of the other gangs claimed credit for it either. Her gut was telling her that it wasn¡¯t a sudden spate of gang violence on the streets, but it was undeniable that the killer targeted them because of what they were wearing.

    Once he was done killing that group ¨C he then approached one of the houses on the road where they ended up and knocked on the door, before blowing it through with magic. Unfortunately for him, both of the people occupying that house were armed, legally at that.

    He didn¡¯t move to attack any of the other, more vulnerable witnesses on the street who watched the original fight. Frankfort believed that it meant something. Both of the armed men insisted that they simply watched through the window and did not speak to him. The attack was unprovoked as far as they were concerned.

    The autopsy report got stranger and stranger the deeper she dived. Wounds that would have killed a normal person were shaken off like they were nothing. It was a laundry list of broken bones, perforated organs and torn muscle fibre. There was no means by which he could have remained in movement with the stab wounds he suffered.

    Yet he did regardless. The man finished his attack by butchering the last gang member on the block and then launched a second offensive against a random house. The witness report given by the man who fatally shot him expressed a level of shock at how much tolerance for damage he bore. It took both men at close range firing a full magazine each to finally slow him down.

    And who would benefit most from learning about that? The military. They¡¯d love to have that ability for their soldiers. Bernard Jones was connected to them and always lobbied for their interests. It was an open secret around the WISA office.

    There was nothing expressly forbidden about being a jingoist during his service, so long as it did not interfere with his day-to-day duties and the rightful application of the law. Bernard had overstepped that line and then some ¨C and then disappeared into thin air once he caught wind of who was coming to give him an earful about it.

    ¡°This is starting to look complicated. Did the officers have anything to say about Bernard?¡±

    ¡°They only said that he appeared to be in a hurry. Panicked, red-faced ¨C you know. There was no other essential information I could get from their stories. Bernard was only there for an hour or so, but what caught my eye was the timing. He was at the morgue far earlier than he should have been. He must have known the body was there before we did.¡±

    ¡°Either they sent him to secure the body for their own purposes, or he was a part of the plot the entire time and he was trying to destroy the evidence.¡±

    Veronica nodded, ¡°Yes. That seems reasonable.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to lean on some of my contacts in the ministry of defence. What¡¯s this page about a magical analysis?¡±

    ¡°All of the tests that John ran on the blood came up empty. John couldn¡¯t suss out what it was supposed to be. Eventually, he ended up using a conduction machine they had lying around to see what kind of magical output it produced. He thought that the machine was broken, so I permitted him to call in an expert to perform a more traditional test.¡±

    Frankfort exhaled, ¡°Veronica...¡±

    It was ill-advised to bring in outsiders when PIG was already in effect.

    ¡°I know. I know. But John had already conducted every single test he could think of. It was worth it. We were able to confirm our results using their methodology.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, then why is the entry here still inconclusive?¡±

    ¡°We got a result, but it elicits more questions than answers. According to the police magus who performed the test, it was the most conductive test material that he¡¯d ever seen. It passed through with an imperceptible energy loss. In his words ¨C if there was such a thing as a grade seven mage, he would be it.¡±

    The grades only went up to five, of course. The detective was stunned. He¡¯d never seen a conductivity number like the one calculated at the morgue. They ran the test three more times with new samples and got the same outcome.

    ¡°Grade seven?¡± Frankfurt murmured, ¡°Do you believe it relates to the incredible durability he demonstrated during the killings?¡±

    ¡°That seems to be the most likely explanation. There were marks on key arteries that suggest the killer had the ¡®blood¡¯ transferred into his body. A closer inspection of his heart showed signs of stress, but not enough to cause him to suffer a cardiac episode. These were the main notes taken by the coroner.¡±

    This highly conductive blood was confounding. There were other alarming details too. The areas where the man was stabbed and shot during the rampage were already scabbed over when he was first taken into the theatre for study. The blood that he ingested would congeal over his wounds before his normal blood could do the job.

    ¡°The detective who performed the test theorized that the explosive magical strength he used to break into the house came from this source,¡± Veronica concluded, ¡°Unless you¡¯ve been able to find him in the mage database.¡±

    Frankfort snapped the folder shut and shook her head.

    ¡°Grade four and five mages are a rare commodity. None of them match his description.¡±

    Her face lightened up for a moment as she recalled an amusing anecdote from the search.

    ¡°I spotted a grade five in the records, and her description made me think that she was you for a second.¡±

    Veronica clenched the arms of the chair and smiled, ¡°Oh, how so?¡±

    ¡°Black hair, red eyes. I realized my mistake once I took in the other notes. She¡¯s only thirteen.¡±

    Veronica tried not to let the panic show on her face. Frankfort was brushing up against a fact that she would rather remain hidden. Was this a test? Frankfort was always thinking three steps ahead of everyone else. She rarely spoke without a firm reason. She silently rued her many hours of personal research into the old royal service in search of details about Maria.

    She came up frustratingly empty. Those records were highly meticulous considering that they were not officially supposed to exist in the first place. Veronica was convinced that Maria never came into contact with WISA or the organization that preceded it. She was under Damian¡¯s watchful eye the entire time. There was simply no timeframe in which that kind of training could be undertaken without him noticing.

    So where, how and why had Maria learned to be like her? She was so desperate to know that her mind took her to odd places. Was it genetic? Had Maria somehow inherited an intimate knowledge of how to slice a man¡¯s neck and shoot a gun?

    Frankfort was staring. She felt a cold bead of sweat roll down the back of her neck.

    ¡°Maybe he¡¯s in a lower grade category?¡± she offered.

    Frankfort sighed, ¡°It would take a huge amount of man-hours to search those categories. The best course of action will be to release a photo of the deceased and hope that someone comes forward to identify him.¡±

    ¡°And the potential for leaks?¡±

    ¡°Whoever wants that body already knows where he is. There¡¯s no further harm that can be done in terms of releasing his face, but I am considering moving him to another location so that they cannot interfere with us again.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll need to lift the PIG order. The code I gave them is BRH, fifty-two, seventeen.¡±

    Frankfort jotted down the password on a small piece of paper. Veronica relaxed now that she was moving away from her queries into the mage registry.

    ¡°Well done. It¡¯s a shame that we couldn¡¯t find Bernard, but securing the body is an important first step in our investigation. I¡¯ll assign someone else to watch the body. I want you to focus your energy on finding Bernard. You¡¯re the most skilled when it comes to tracking fugitives.¡±

    Veronica stood back up and bowed, ¡°I¡¯ll handle it.¡±

    ¡°And try not to rough him up too bad. We still need to hear his answers.¡±

    ¡°I promise. He¡¯ll keep all of his teeth and his tongue.¡±

    Since when had she earned a reputation that demanded that sort of instruction? Veronica turned and left before her exasperation started to shine through. Frankfort knew exactly how to annoy her during these business meetings.

    This was problematic. Bernard went to ground as soon as he caught wind of what WISA was doing. He could have been halfway across the country by that point, hopping on the next train at the station and riding it for as long as he possibly could. Veronica was used to tracking people down under challenging circumstances, but Bernard was no amateur. He was a WISA agent well-versed in all of their usual strategies.

    It would have been easier to exclude jingoists like him in the first place...

    There was no use in complaining about it now. Veronica had a job to do and focusing on the job was what she was best at, so long as it didn¡¯t involve her rebellious estranged daughter anyway. This job didn¡¯t involve her. This was classic WISA politicking and backstabbing. The entire battle would be over before the public ever caught on to what was happening.

    So why was she crossing her fingers?

 Chapter 115

    Getting even two male members of the family together in one place was a rare occurrence for Max. Mastfa, Muwah and Odeh were all occupied with their own ventures and struggled to find time to come back home and relax. Luckily for Adrian, Muwah was returning to the manor the day after his visit for a short spell at home.

    Max had to take his opportunity while it was present. As soon as one of the servants announced his arrival, Max organized some tea and posted up in Muwah¡¯s favourite room in the house. It didn¡¯t take long for Muwah to come waltzing through the door with his arms outstretched.

    ¡°Maxwell! It¡¯s been ages!¡±

    Max stood up and accepted his brotherly hug before holding out his hand and offering him a seat at the table. It had been a month and a half since the two sat together, with Muwah engaging in several important business trips on behalf of their father. To think that the proliferation of the telegram network was reducing the need for travel, it would have been even more intense otherwise.

    ¡°How¡¯s the academy treating you? No more shootouts, I hope.¡±

    Muwah approached the tragedy caused by the Scuncath with his usual optimism. It was almost impossible to put him into a bad mood. He saw himself as an important pillar of strength for the family and the people who worked for them. Whether they all appreciated that sunny demeanour was a mystery.

    ¡°The academy has been calm for the past term. Everyone is keeping their heads down and focusing on their electives.¡±

    Muwah nodded, ¡°What did you pick again?¡±

    Max tried not to let his discomfort show, ¡°History, magic and mathematics.¡±

    ¡°Those are good choices. You¡¯re covering a diverse range of subjects there. It¡¯s important to find the ¡®art¡¯ in what you choose to do. I was very invested in the stories I read in the history books when I was your age.¡±

    ¡°Diversity is a polite way of saying indiscriminate. What good are those three subjects going to do together?¡±

    ¡°One of my teachers left his old position to teach magic history at a university. People don¡¯t understand how much those different skills can cross over with each other. And you can never go wrong with mathematics, or physics, or any sciences ¨C they¡¯re in high demand.¡±

    ¡°Still...¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to have your future planned out here and now. I know that father has been putting a lot of pressure on your shoulders recently, but you¡¯re free to make that decision for yourself whenever you find the answer.¡±

    It was true that Max enjoyed a wealth of time, money and influence. He could easily choose to focus on any one thing and succeed in it by using his family name. Business, politics, or even spending his days mooching from the family coffer as a socialite. None of those outcomes felt right.

    Claude was always certain that he wanted to become a policeman like his father. Seeing Samantha dedicate herself so steadfastly to becoming a doctor was the nadir of his doubt. She had no idea what possibilities awaited her when she first came to the academy, and now she had a firm goal in mind that would earn her a different type of respect, one which was earned through hard times and hard work.

    What did he have to be proud of? Where would he be standing when the time came for him to leave the academy and blaze his own trail? Taking a bunch of his father¡¯s money and investing it into a guaranteed business plan wasn¡¯t going to fulfil him. There were hundreds of rich kids who were going to do the same. Going from turning over a barn filled with animal crap to being a doctor? Now that was something special.

    ¡°Keep in mind that you still have a lot of time to figure it out. Time feels so much slower when you¡¯re a child. Nowadays I wake up and wonder where the time has gone.¡±

    Muwah laughed boisterously.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been busy,¡± Max observed.

    ¡°Very much so.¡±

    ¡°What have you been working on?¡±

    Muwah almost fell out of his chair at the mere implication of his younger brother being interested in what he was doing. It was like every single one of his wildest dreams coming true all at once. He was so overwhelmed with joy at the prospect that the thought of Maxwell having ulterior motives for inquiring simply never occurred to him.

    ¡°You want to know what I¡¯m working on?¡±

    Max shrugged, ¡°I was hoping to make conversation. I have nought to do at the moment. Claude is presently occupied turning his bedroom into a monument to his overactive imagination.¡±

    Muwah smiled, his perfectly white teeth shining between the thick whiskers of his moustache and beard.

    ¡°I¡¯d be happy to talk about it. Father has been talking my ears off about how worried he is about you.¡±

    Max didn¡¯t need Muwah to tell him that. It was obvious from his expressions and the words he used that their Father was always concerned about what Max was choosing to do with his life. The issue was that Max didn¡¯t have any firm ground from which to make a decision. He originally hoped that the academy would spur him into action or allow him to find a calling he truly cared about.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a confirmation of my interests, just so we¡¯re clear.¡±

    Muwah laughed; ¡°Okay, okay. I¡¯ll save you from that indignity and keep it between us. Recently I¡¯ve been working with Cedric Roderro on a big plan he has for Church Walk in the city. He wants to buy up all of the property there, knock the old houses down, and redevelop the entire district.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a significant task. Did he propose this to you directly?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I thought it sounded like a brilliant idea! Cedric said that the council would be glad to see the back of Church Walk as the poorest and most crime-ridden district in the city. He was right. They threw their support behind the endeavour without delay.¡±

    Max listened closely for clues. That sounded like information that Adrian and Maria could use to further their investigation.

    ¡°I see. Will the project be going ahead without any issues then?¡±

    Muwah''s usual optimism faltered, ¡°Not exactly. Getting approval from the council is one matter, but actually securing the property from the residents is another. They are willing to approve the plan but they cannot offer us any assistance in obtaining the land we need. Unfortunately, some of the landowners are connected with the local gang, and they¡¯ve been making shows of strength to deter anyone from selling to us.¡±

    ¡°And that pushes the profit margin further and further out of the ideal.¡±

    ¡°Correct. We¡¯ve already dedicated millions of marks to this scheme, and Cedric has also asked for additional investment from new partners to see it through. He has temporarily ceased completing purchases until he can be certain that we get everyone on our side.¡±

    ¡°I hope that doesn¡¯t put you at risk.¡±

    Muwah laughed again, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m not exactly fighting on the frontlines to get this deal done like Cedric is. I¡¯m simply lending him some of my capital as an investment. There are people who have leveraged much more than I have.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have come up with an idea like that. It sounds extremely risky.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Cedric is a very interesting man. He has the business acumen to make it happen, but he can rush headlong into controversial subjects without giving it a second thought. Someone else is handling the delicate negotiations. Cedric is dedicated to making this his greatest work, a sight to cement his legacy with.¡±

    ¡°His legacy...¡±

    ¡°Between you and me, he¡¯s somewhat desperate to step out of the shadow of his brother. Even though Cathdra never did much with his money, and even though he¡¯s now enjoying a long stint in jail, he¡¯s still considered the leader of the family. That really makes him angry. He¡¯ll complain about it to anyone willing to lend him an ear.¡±

    That sounded like a motivating reason for Cedric to oust Adrian from his position. It was a multi-pronged strategy based on what Adrian had said previously. He was hoping that the stress of running the empire and the overlapping risks that were threatening his life would be enough to make him hand it over without the drama. Failing that, he would make an offer to purchase his legal share of those businesses at a steep discount.

    Adrian already declared his intention to resist a lowball offer, as he was right to do so. The worst possible course of action would be to reward Cedric¡¯s criminal behaviour by giving him what he wanted. The high-profile nature of any direct action against him meant that his hands were tied. Adrian being harmed even by a third party would arouse detailed scrutiny of how it happened.

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    Funnily enough ¨C that strategy would have been more effective if not for Cathdra and Claude.

    ¡°You say he wants to build his own legacy, but that all depends on how the people in the city feel about his ambition. A legacy is afforded by others. It cannot be built through self-aggrandization alone.¡±

    Muwah smiled, ¡°Certainly not these days. Historians are much more sceptical of what they read than they used to be, as are the journalists who publish in the newspapers. I¡¯ve run into a handful of them who wanted to know my thoughts. I think it was too boring for them. I never saw it in print.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not controversial enough,¡± Max joked.

    ¡°Maybe. If they were talking to Odeh, then they¡¯d have something to put on the front page...¡±

    Max finished the last of his tea and pushed the empty cup away from the edge of the table. Muwah¡¯s gaze turned to the front garden, which he could see through the window behind Max¡¯s head. Unlike Odeh, Muwah was happiest when he could find a moment to step back from the mayhem and reset his equilibrium.

    ¡°I suppose that the big project will take some time to come to fruition then.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, it will. Thankfully Roderro didn¡¯t promise the world to his investors from the outset, so they¡¯ve been understanding about the delays. Organized resistance from the locals, preservationist societies, and now there¡¯s been a spate of gang killings in the area that have attracted police attention.¡±

    Such delays were part and parcel of a major redevelopment project. Similar schemes in other heavily industrialized cities caused issues, though the complaints tended to go away once the people living there got to see the positive impact the redevelopment made on the area.

    What Muwah didn¡¯t know was the extent to which Cedric wanted to put his own stamp on Church Walk. This wasn¡¯t about improving the conditions for the workers or expanding local infrastructure, he was hoping to wipe the slate clean and start from scratch. This was going to be his magnum opus. It was going to be his signature carved deep into the flesh of the city - so deep that it could never be removed.

    Maxwell was already thinking of how to explain what he¡¯d discovered to Adrian and Maria.

    <hr>

    Marco Fisichella had only just cleaned up the mess caused to his sitting room two days ago. He purchased a new door, new windows, and some new furniture to replace what was damaged by the roving madman who decided to pay him an untimely visit. Marco had thoughts about the situation, but they were nothing more than the frustrated gripes of a man out of his depth.

    He knew that he didn¡¯t know.

    He didn¡¯t know who the attacker was, he didn¡¯t know why he killed several washrags in a blind rage, he didn¡¯t know where he got such explosive magical power, and he didn¡¯t know why that attacker withstood two magazines of flesh-rending bullets before finally going down.

    Marco had a simple rule. Never get involved in a matter because you were collateral damage. There was no point chasing answers when there was nothing satisfactory on the other side of them. The person responsible was dead and his house was already fixed up. Nobody was going to pay him for sticking his nose into it.

    Whilst in the midst of rearranging his new furniture, a set of heavy knocks rang out at his door. Marco was getting all too familiar with the routine by this point. The police had been drilling him for answers for two days straight. It was a miracle that he managed to clean the mess up and keep them away from his private affairs.

    ¡°Just a second!¡±

    Marco double-checked his gun, before walking to the door and pulling it open.

    Robert Van Gervan was waiting for him on the other side.

    ¡°Mister Gervan, this is a rarity.¡±

    ¡°Marco. I¡¯d like to speak with you.¡±

    Marco stepped aside and shut the door to keep prying eyes and ears away from the conversation.

    ¡°Am I not mistaken in believing this is about the incident from the other day?¡±

    Robert sat at the table and removed his hat out of politeness, ¡°Aye. It is.¡±

    ¡°If you are hoping for direct answers about what happened and why, I¡¯m afraid that I don¡¯t have them. What I saw was one of your friends being stabbed, and then that same killer approaching my door to do the same to us.¡±

    Marco took a seat opposite Robert and interlinked his fingers.

    ¡°It¡¯s madness,¡± Robert complained, ¡°Not only have a bunch of good lads gotten killed for nothing but now the police are sniffing around Church Walk.¡±

    Marco shrugged, ¡°They are trying to find answers themselves.¡±

    ¡°The police have never cared about what happens to folks in Church Walk, or the other working-class areas of this city. That¡¯s why gangs like ours stick around. If they aren¡¯t going to protect us, then we just have to do it ourselves.¡±

    It helped that being in the gang allowed the members to get a cut of their ill-gotten gains, but Marco refrained from entering a rhetorical duel with a pig-headed buffoon like Robert. There was a small golden nugget of truth in his statement. It was the core of the issue.

    ¡°It¡¯s a joke,¡± he continued, ¡°These streets have never been safe, but at least folks were wise enough not to cause trouble when the whites were out and about. Now I¡¯ve got a dozen people pounding on my door and asking me to find their missing relatives.¡±

    Though in this case, they were not ¡®missing.¡¯ The families wanted their bodies back as soon as possible so that funerals could be organized. The level of distrust against the police was so great that holding onto a body for an autopsy was too much for their taste.

    ¡°Are you of the belief that it was an isolated incident?¡±

    ¡°I bloody well hope it was. I can¡¯t be having this drama playing out on the regular!¡±

    This type of outraged, flustered, red-face furore was nothing new for Robert. His impatience and constant desire for respect were well-known by the community. Everyone had to defer to him on all matters he deemed within his gang¡¯s jurisdiction. Marco hated his guts. He was a fat blowhard who was too behind the times to see that his own position was eroding from under his feet.

    ¡°If it isn¡¯t, then your only solace would be the police finding the people responsible for the attack. He did not look like a gang member to me.¡±

    ¡°Even if he wasn¡¯t, I¡¯m not going to sit still and let it happen again. You¡¯re underestimating us again, Marco. I have ways of getting what I need to know.¡±

    ¡°Paying off those idiot information brokers? I wouldn¡¯t trust a word they say. Most of them aren¡¯t worth the air they breathe. There are one or two good ones ¨C but they don¡¯t advertise themselves to people not in the know.¡±

    ¡°I was hoping to ask you about what happened.¡±

    Marco scowled, ¡°Only if you pay me for it, and I wouldn¡¯t suggest doing that ¨C I have nothing more to offer you than what I saw that day.¡±

    Robert was not going to waste his breath pressing him on the truthfulness of that statement. Robert was a hard-headed pig, but he wasn¡¯t the head of the gang that ran the district because he ran into losing battles which he knew he couldn¡¯t win. Marco would turn him into a fine paste if he gave him a reason to.

    But Marco was a pro. He was always working some type of angle or trying to score a job, and he never burned bridges unless he absolutely had to. Robert tried to squeeze him for information because Marco wouldn¡¯t touch him for asking.

    ¡°Some red-eyed bitch was standing there on the steps at the morgue, said we¡¯d all get banged up if we tried to get into the morgue and get them back. She even flashed her bloody gun at me!¡±

    Marco looked at Gervan with a stone-cold glare.

    ¡°How old was she? Tall, short?¡±

    He hesitated. This was an unusually harsh reaction from Marco.

    ¡°She was in her thirties. Dark hair. Face like thunder.¡±

    ¡°Mister Gervan ¨C that was not a simple police officer. That was a WISA agent, and of all the WISA agents that you can meet, you picked a fight with the worst possible one.¡±

    ¡°WISA are a bunch of toothless paper pushers,¡± Robert blustered.

    ¡°That¡¯s what they want people like us to think. In reality, they¡¯re a group of experienced killers with unconditional support from the police and the courts. You¡¯re lucky that you didn¡¯t try to take matters into your own hands, or you¡¯d be missing under mysterious circumstances within the week.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    ¡°Not bullshit,¡± Marco spat, ¡°Do you have a death wish? You stupid man! Listen to me when I say this. Do not play games with that woman again! I won¡¯t listen to your grieving relatives when they find your water-logged corpse in the harbour!¡±

    Marco was so angry that his accent was starting to come through.

    Robert tried to ease the tension with a more diplomatic approach. He held out one of his palms and took a less aggressive tone; ¡°You act like you know her.¡±

    Marco shook his head, ¡°I don¡¯t know her, not personally ¨C but I believe she¡¯s the same woman of whom I¡¯ve heard many troubling rumours. People in my line of work have stories, stories that aren¡¯t to be shared in weak-stomached company. She doesn¡¯t make threats, she makes promises. If you so much as touched that door, you¡¯d be dead right now.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid,¡± Robert scoffed, ¡°As much as those bastard pigs love to abuse us, they wouldn¡¯t so easily get away with killing a man in broad daylight.¡±

    ¡°WISA agents have near complete immunity to do as they like. If, and that is a big if, it was brought to a courtroom, the case would be dismissed so long as they proved to the judge that they had reason to act as they did.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve dealt with them before ¨C so I made sure to do my research. It was made easier to find those cases when the legal archives were opened to the public a few years ago.¡±

    Marco had a fairly intimate knowledge of the legal system. It was one of his hobbies. Reading through pages and pages of public court records enthralled him, and he could whittle away hours picking apart different cases and following them through each motion.

    The WISA cases were revealing. A huge amount of the documentation was classified, and they were summarily dismissed once the defence made a low standard showing that the actions of the agent were taken under good faith.

    ¡°But isn¡¯t that suspicious? WISA is trying to keep us from seeing the bodies.¡±

    ¡°Bodies? There¡¯s nothing unusual about what happened to your men, Robert. I saw it with my own two eyes. What is unusual is the man who killed them. If WISA has taken over the morgue and are trying to keep people away, then it¡¯s because of him. They¡¯ll be sent back here in due time.¡±

    Robert chewed on Marco¡¯s perspective. The chair groaned under the weight of his body as he shuffled back and straightened himself out. Now that he had calmed down, he could see what Marco meant. WISA would not be getting involved if not for unusual circumstances.

    ¡°What if we broke in and took them?¡±

    ¡°Robert ¨C I say this with all due respect, but that is an extremely stupid idea. There is no reason to risk your life and limb to avoid a potentially short wait.¡±

    ¡°It could be a lot longer. I¡¯ve got wives and children out there who expect me to lead the charge, protect the community and do right by them. They¡¯re not going to be happy if you turn out to be wrong.¡±

    ¡°Then I sincerely hope you are ready to deal with the consequences. WISA being here is a warning sign. If not them, forces greater than us will be scheming behind the curtain.¡±

    Marco hoped that his sober assessment of the situation would put across to Robert how serious it was. Robert had come to him a few times before for advice, and to field contracts that involved killing his main rivals. Marco happily took them on ¨C but Robert never accepted advice from anyone even after he asked for it.

    Robert Van Gervan didn¡¯t like being told no. It was his least favourite word in the Walserian dictionary. His working-class background was legitimate, but he was also a profoundly entitled man who believed his position within the Church Street gang conferred a level of untouchability that could even deflect physical harm.

    That gambit was not going to work here. There was no prestige or infamy to earn by taking this battle, and it was not a battle that Robert and his gang members could hope to win. All hell would break loose if they succeeded in breaking into the morgue.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep what you¡¯ve said in mind, Marco. Thank you for your time.¡±

    Robert redonned his hat and walked to the door, letting himself out and descending the steps onto the sidewalk. Marco was quick to follow and watch him on the way out.

    ¡°If you do it, you don¡¯t come back to my house for three months. I say three months. Don¡¯t come back!¡± he yelled.

    Robert just waved him away, only half-listening to his demands.

    ¡°Gangsters,¡± Marco said to himself, ¡°Always getting themselves killed.¡±

    He slammed the door shut and went back to his chores.

 Chapter 116

    Veronica¡¯s search for Jones was starting to frustrate her. Frankfort was breathing down her neck and demanding results, but Jones was nowhere to be found. Veronica searched every safehouse that she was privy to, and some of the ones she wasn¡¯t meant to be, yet Jones was wise enough to stay away from WISA property while a wanted man. Her contacts and fellow agents weren¡¯t any help either.

    Veronica wondered why she was being assigned this task in the first place. Jones was likely to make a break for the other side of Walser, or maybe even another country, and there wasn¡¯t much she could do about it when he had such a big head-start over her.

    Maria was hogging too much of her headspace. That was the problem. Veronica was in her office, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the next step to come to her as if by magic. Dozens of discarded documents lay on her desk, all of them dedicated to the sole purpose of figuring out what WISA knew about Maria.

    Not much ¨C it seemed. The only records on Maria were entirely normal. She was designated as a VIP by the WISA threat assessment protocol, being the daughter of an extremely rich and powerful man. The other record was her entry in the mage registry. Grade five, even though both she and Damian didn¡¯t know their arse from their elbow when it came to magic.

    There was little that Veronica could do but look through those papers and keep her head down when it came to her work. She didn¡¯t have the luxury of time to worry about Maria. Her services were always in demand and what little free time she had resulted in no real progress towards solving the mystery.

    Veronica reminded herself to focus on the job at hand. The consequences for failure could be severe, though not as severe as the ¡®good old days¡¯ when insubordination or critical errors would hand you a burn notice and a shallow grave. She found it difficult to believe that some older agents like her thought the organization was too soft now.

    The blood, the body ¨C those were the keys to opening up the case. Jones and his masters wanted the body out of the police¡¯s hands. The blood was unusual and gave the killer the strength and endurance to kill an entire armed gang in a street-side massacre. It also gave him the magical strength to half-destroy a home just outside of Church Walk, a skill he showed no signs of having before.

    She reconstructed the scene, standing in the morgue with John by her side. There was a faint familiarity in her head. It was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn¡¯t quite figure out what was causing it. She recalled the conversation, the smell, and the unique way that light reflected from the blood on the table. It was like oil.

    It was then and there that Veronica felt the white-hot bolt of revelation shooting through her skull.

    She had seen that kind of viscous, tar-coloured blood before.

    She¡¯d seen it seeping from the crushed body of a recently summoned Horrcath.

    The very same Horrcath that her daughter had killed at the railyard.

    Revulsion. Veronica swung her legs over the edge of the bench and stared at the blank wall opposite. It couldn¡¯t be. There was no way that someone could be so foolish and inject themselves with the blood of a demon. The demon¡¯s physical body stuck around unlike the larger one that was summoned at the fort, it was possible.

    Yet at the same time ¨C that body was kept at a top-secret location that even Veronica didn¡¯t know about. It would have been under constant armed guard and the information would be kept on a strictly need-to-know basis. If someone were to use that body for this purpose, it would mean that the conspiracy spiralled to the very top of the chain of command.

    Veronica leapt from her seat and jogged through the building until she reached Frankfort¡¯s office. She knocked twice as a courtesy before pushing through anyway without waiting for a response. Frankfort almost fell out of her chair at the surprise visit.

    ¡°Frankfort! I thought of something!¡±

    Frankfort was taken aback by Veronica¡¯s sudden appearance through her door; ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I believe that I have seen the black blood the coroner talked about once before.¡±

    ¡°Where?¡±

    ¡°The small Horrcath I killed during the mission to retrieve Cambry. When it was crushed by the rail carriage, the blood that came out of it looked a lot like the sort that John found in the killer¡¯s body.¡±

    Frankfort¡¯s reaction to the information was delayed as she thought long and hard about whether it was possible. It never occurred to her. The possibility of someone unqualified entering the containment area and somehow making away with it was extremely low. But if they didn¡¯t need to steal the body itself ¨C then it would be a lot easier.

    ¡°You know that information about where that body is kept is top secret. It¡¯s entirely on a need-to-know basis.¡±

    ¡°I understand that; but if Jones is being deployed to run interference by the army ministers, it may suggest that they were the ones who organized this offensive. They would have the clearance to access the body.¡±

    Frankfort exhaled through her nose and narrowed her eyes, ¡°It¡¯s a bold accusation. How would you suggest we support it?¡±

    ¡°Comparing the blood sample taken from the killer¡¯s body against the Horrcath¡¯s would be a start. It may also be prudent to investigate the Horrcath¡¯s body and check how much blood has been drawn from it too.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to pull a lot of strings to make that happen. I might land us in hot water if your hunch turns out to be incorrect.¡±

    It was a stupid idea, but Veronica had a lot of familiarity with fools of all stripes. She wanted to believe that nobody would be that self-destructive. Reality was happy to hand her a long series of incidents that proved otherwise. If someone thought that there was a benefit to be derived from potentially risking their lives and ingesting demon¡¯s blood ¨C then they¡¯d do it.

    ¡°I¡¯m not having any luck finding where Jones went to. I feel like this lead might be our only chance to get ahead.¡±

    Frankfort nodded, ¡°You¡¯re rarely mistaken about these things. I¡¯ll have a frank discussion with one of the interior ministers about the possibility. We have a meeting planned with the civil cabinet later.¡±

    If it did turn out that someone charged with protecting that body was siphoning blood from it, heads would certainly roll and security protocols would need to be updated. The issue was that the ministers would likely play dumb if they were involved, and the military men who ran roughshod over the civilian government would spurn any inquiries by WISA without forceful action.

    Frankfort quickly changed the topic; ¡°No luck finding Jones then?¡±

    ¡°No. None at all.¡±

    ¡°Well, if even you can¡¯t find him then none of our other field agents will have a chance. Do you reckon that he¡¯s fled the city?¡±

    ¡°If he¡¯s smart ¨C yes. He could be anywhere in the country by now assuming he decides to take a train.¡±

    ¡°I have watchmen at the station but they haven¡¯t reported back with any sightings. We may have to put finding Bernard off into the future and focus on the other elements of the incident. He can hardly utilise any of our resources or enter the office now that we know he¡¯s working for an outside organization.¡±

    That outside organization being Walser¡¯s very own military command. It wasn¡¯t the first time that they had acted in their self-interest, and it wouldn¡¯t be the last. WISA and the Military had butted heads before. They were willing to justify some very odd projects so long as they felt it advanced the national defence.

    What stood out this time was the petty nature of the initial act. Would they dispatch one of their men to kill a handful of gang members in Church Walk? It seemed unlikely. The alternative explanation was that they knew about the man who did it and wanted to have his body to themselves so they could copy the techniques used to empower him. They did have their own intelligence gatherers, some of them were even embedded into WISA...

    Another unannounced visitor knocked on the door and opened it without waiting. Veronica turned around in her seat to see what the commotion was about. A breathless field agent named Davis was peeking into the room.

    ¡°Frankfort, Gladwell ¨C I just had a police officer run into the lobby and tell me that a gang of miscreants are trying to force their way into the morgue. Gang members, I think.¡±

    Veronica was already standing and ready before Frankfort gave her the order.

    ¡°Davis, go with Veronica.¡±

    ¡°Aye, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Davis dipped into his room before they departed, grabbing a shotgun from the rack in his office. All armed and ready to go, they hurried down into the lobby where one of the officers was waiting anxiously for them. Veronica recognized him as one of the people she interviewed about Bernard.

    ¡°Take us there. We¡¯ll sort it out,¡± David ordered.

    The officer nodded and led them through the winding streets until they reached the morgue building a few blocks away. Veronica could hear the chaos unfolding before she witnessed it. A large mob of concerned residents were on the road outside of the building. At the front of the push was a group of Church Street gang members wearing their characteristic white clothes.

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    ¡°When did this start?¡± Veronica asked.

    ¡°They showed up ten minutes ago and started making demands. It was pretty calm until one of them tried to push through the front door. A warning shot made him back off, but they¡¯re riled up now!¡±

    It was likely that at least a few of the gang members were armed with sharp instruments or firearms of their own. They could be equally devastating during a chaotic situation. A small number of the civilians who¡¯d gathered to observe the confrontation backed well away when they noticed the pair of armed WISA agents marching towards the morgue with intent.

    Veronica whispered to Davis; ¡°Keep that elephant gun pointing up. Let¡¯s see what¡¯s going on first.¡±

    With that said, Veronica made sure to draw her pistol before making her presence known. They needed to quickly establish control over the area and prevent the mob from escalating the violence to anything more than petty vandalism. Veronica opened her mouth wide and demonstrated why very few of the other agents liked stepping on her toes.

    ¡°Alright, you lot! Back away from the steps before I blow another breathing hole into you!¡±

    The citizens were first to heed the order, scattering to the four corners of the block before they joined the other bodies in the morgue. The gang members were naturally more resistant to such threats ¨C but it was simply a way for Veronica to weed them out and keep the agitators out of the way. What she was left with was a group of two dozen burly men, all wearing white sheets beneath their belts or hats made from undyed cotton.

    Veronica, Davis and the officer squeezed between a gap and mounted the stairs, taking over the stage and ensuring that her already deafening voice would be heard by all. It wasn¡¯t an ideal place to start a fight, but keeping the doors firmly closed was the main priority.

    ¡°Screw off, coppers!¡±

    ¡°Give us the bodies!¡±

    It was an outpouring of misplaced outrage from the assembled group. They wanted the bodies of their fellow gangsters and didn¡¯t care about the consequences. Veronica could feel her mask starting to slip. This was profoundly irritating. Why was she asked to babysit people like this?

    ¡°I already told your boss that the bodies were going to be released. Do you think that trying to break into this place is the best solution? I would have thought that the warning shot would be illustrative enough to make you all scram.¡±

    Robert Van Gervan was nowhere to be seen. Either he was keeping an arm¡¯s length from the chaos like a craven joke, or his calls for patience back at Church Walk were falling on deaf ears. The outcome was the same. She had to deal with the crisis as it was and keep them out.

    The mob shouted back. It was too muddled for Veronica to hear out any one of them.

    ¡°And I made it extremely bloody clear to him that anyone who entered the building would be dead to rights!¡±

    ¡°Piss off, you nosy cow!¡± the ringleader yelled, ¡°It¡¯s always one rule for you lot, but another rule for us.¡±

    ¡°The rule is the same for everyone,¡± Veronica replied matter-of-factly, ¡°Trespassing into the morgue building while a criminal investigation is utilising the area is a criminal offence that can earn you four years in jail. Would any of you like to step forward and claim your complimentary spot at the nearest prison?¡±

    ¡°Funny. Real funny.¡±

    ¡°Would you rather that, or simply wait until tomorrow when they¡¯re due to be released?¡±

    His eye darted from the door to the shotgun being held in Davis¡¯ hands, and then back to the door, and then to Veronica ¨C who was putting up a strong front no matter the numeric disadvantage she was forced into.

    ¡°Does Van Gervan know that you¡¯re here?¡± she asked.

    He shook his head, ¡°No. This is all us.¡±

    ¡°You think it¡¯s prudent to all gather in one place like this after the incident? Wearing your gang colours, no less.¡±

    The leader scoffed, ¡°I¡¯m not letting a single bloke blemish my pride, woman. Being a Walker means living it for every moment of the day. Ditching our cause is exactly what they want us to do.¡±

    Some cause that was, Veronica murmured internally. Getting into street fights, forcing protection money out of local businesses and robbing others was hardly a noble banner to gather under. The Church Street gang could at least claim that they weren¡¯t involved in selling illegal substances like the others.

    The crowd started to condense back towards the building, backing up the gang members with a solid wall of human bodies. Veronica shook her head disapprovingly. The standoff was going to continue like this unless she could convince them to move away from the morgue.

    She looked out across the sea of faces and studied them carefully. There was obvious anxiety driving their actions, and a sense of community-based solidarity that made them come out in numbers. Veronica wished that they¡¯d use that will for something more constructive than breaking into a protected area to hold a funeral earlier than they would otherwise be able to.

    A figure emerging from the alleyway directly across from the crowd caught her eye. They lingered on the back edge of the chaos, hovering there and keeping their face hidden from sight. What alarmed Veronica was the paleness of their squalid skin. It was just like the body that was recovered from the scene of the crime.

    ¡°Hey! Let¡¯s break this up!¡± Davis yelled, ¡°Disperse! Stop blocking the road!¡±

    Frustrated carriage drivers were starting to back up and clog up the streets next to the morgue. Some of them were hopping down and confronting the people in the way, and those arguments were starting to get increasingly violent, in both words and body language.

    A small number of the onlookers did as he asked and backed up onto the sidewalk on either side. The gang members continued to stand stubbornly dead centre on the thoroughfare. Veronica felt anxiety building. The cloaked figure was still waiting, and once they spotted a gap for them to slip through and get close to the Walkers, they did so.

    Veronica leapt into action. She descended the steps and approached that same opening to block their way, but it was too late. As she approached a powerful concussive blast knocked her clean from her feet and sent her flying backwards into the stone steps. She grunted as the hard edge dug into her back with enough to force put stress on her spine.

    Several other onlookers were sent flying in a similar manner. Helpless bodies were flung to the four corners of the street, and the gang members who previously obstructed the way scattered and tried to run to safety. The figure turned to face them and held out their hand. Davis released the safety on his shotgun and pulled the trigger. A spread of pellets ripped through their cloak and the flesh beneath, knocking them off balance and preventing them from launching a second magical attack.

    Veronica willed her battered body to get back up and into the fight. It was painful, but she wasn¡¯t going to sit back and let another attacker kill on her watch. The cloaked figure staggered away, sensing that the situation wasn¡¯t to their advantage ¨C before turning tail and trying to run. All hell broke loose as the civilians tried to flee the area through the congested road.

    Davis chambered another round and fired at their back, but besides the new holes torn into the shawl they were wearing, there was no visible sign of it even hitting the target. Veronica finally got her gun¡¯s sights on the attacker, just as they ducked around the corner and out of sight.

    ¡°They¡¯re getting away! I put two shots into them!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re chasing them. Come on!¡±

    Veronica broke out into a sprint, hopping over the curb on the other side of the street and into the alleyway. Davis stuck close as they weaved between the obstacles that had been placed there by the residents and business owners. They broke out onto the other end and checked both sides, but much to Veronica¡¯s astonishment there was no sign of the attacker.

    ¡°Where did they go?¡± she murmured.

    David acted fast and approached one of the people who was frozen still by the riotous noise, ¡°Did you see someone in a cloak fleeing?¡±

    They nodded and pointed to the East. Veronica and Davis took off again in search of the criminal, but it was readily apparent to both of them that the window to capture them was narrowing by the second. The trail soon went cold, and they were left to stand on the corner of the block and catch their breath.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way they ran that fast,¡± Davis gasped, ¡°No way. I shot them twice, once in the back. It looked like it didn¡¯t even phase them.¡±

    The shells he was using weren¡¯t dummies or low-power. They were strong enough to take down a wild animal.

    ¡°They must have had something to do with our original suspect,¡± Veronica theorized, ¡°I¡¯m going to report this to Frankfort. Can you go back to the scene and try to find a blood sample on the road?¡±

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll keep an eye on the morgue too, and help get those people some medical attention.¡±

    Veronica stretched out and cracked her back with an undignified groan. She was going to have a difficult time sleeping tonight...

    <hr>

    At that time - across the city in the backroom of a small gentleman¡¯s club, Cedric and Ferrand were once again discussing the particulars of the Church Walk redevelopment project.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you ¨C we¡¯ve made no major progress on any front since last month. Now the local activists are trying to stop us from demolishing certain buildings because they¡¯re ¡®historic¡¯ and need preserving. What a load of nonsense. They didn¡¯t care one bit about them before!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what those busybodies are like. They pretend to care only when it¡¯s under threat, they get a rush from getting in the way.¡±

    Ferrand was smoking a cigar, as he always did, and filling the member¡¯s only room with a thick cloud of smoke.

    Cedric picked at the corner of his eyes and grumbled, ¡°Nothing seems to be going my way lately. Even your moves to be rid of the Church Street gang have fallen flat.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the one making the decisions on that front, and besides, they haven¡¯t started the plan in earnest yet.¡±

    Cedric disagreed. Stabbing a dozen men to death in broad daylight was about as explosive of a start as they could have concocted. The entire city was held in the rapturous grip of the front-page gossip news cycle because of it.

    ¡°You told me that it wouldn¡¯t attract any attention. You said it would just be another gang killing like all of the ones that came before it. Not only are the police investigating, but now even WISA is breathing down the back of our necks!¡± Cedric exclaimed.

    Ferrand tried to calm the neurotic noble down; ¡°There¡¯s nothing at all to link any one of us back to those grisly incidents, Cedric.¡±

    Though in truth ¨C Ferrand had been shocked by the sudden onset of violence despite being the one who was supposedly in the know. It was a far bolder act than he was assured would occur originally. Eight or nine men were slain in a single quarter-hour.

    ¡°The principle is always the same no matter what we do. We keep our hands clean of it, and allow the pawns to shoulder all of the risk.¡±

    Cedric scowled, ¡°I¡¯m starting to feel like something of a pawn myself. I only wanted a hand in securing this property deal, and you promised a quick and easy way to solve the gang problem. What¡¯s easy or quick about this?¡±

    Ferrand shrugged impassively, ¡°And they told me that they were doing it in return for testing a new method of ¡®solving problems.¡¯ Were you expecting a peaceful solution when it came to dealing with a gang of violent thugs? Dare I say that violence is the only language they understand.¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t even expecting it. Don¡¯t try to sell me that story of being on board from the start.¡±

    Ferrand averted his eyes and took another puff of his cigar.

    ¡°Gerard Verner Welt is the one leading the charge on this. There are a lot of handshake deals going on behind the scenes. He was the one who proposed using his new... project, to deal with the property issue.¡±

    ¡°Welt? That red-faced monarchist?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯d better not be angling to use this to launch his own little revolution. I can¡¯t think of a faster way for all of us to get marched to the gallows.¡±

    Ferrand refrained from commenting on the company that Cedric chose to keep. He always bristled at the prospect of his friends in the monarchist parties making any movement towards restoring the rightful monarchy.

    ¡°Welt is... somewhat unreasonable. He was dead set on finding a way to field test his new scheme, whether it involved you or not. He sees it as a good way to repay you for the information you gave us before, even if Lady Rentree squandered it in strange circumstances.¡±

    ¡°I was considering trying to bribe the idiot in charge.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you already put an offer on his house?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but raising the offer is only going to make the market more chaotic than it already is. I need to do it under the table and keep the other property owners from knowing.¡±

    ¡°I see. Perhaps a purely punitive strategy isn¡¯t the way to go.¡±

    ¡°Punitive it understating it, by a lot.¡±

    ¡°It is, but you never know who might be listening.¡±

    ¡°Welt won¡¯t listen ¨C but try to make him take a subtler approach to this. I get the feeling that it¡¯s going to cause more harm than good for the project.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll relay that to him when next we meet.¡±

    Ferrand snubbed his cigar in the ashtray and smiled with yellowed teeth.

 Chapter 117

    Max sent us a letter the next day that revealed some more about the redevelopment project. As he said, there wasn¡¯t much to go on. His Brother wasn¡¯t one of the people holding the reins and making the decisions. He was a smaller investor who was brought along for the ride to provide liquidity.

    That didn¡¯t mean I was out of options. There was one other avenue I could take to get information about what was going on in Church Walk. Caius had mentioned it to me during his prolonged stay at the house, though at the time I considered it to be of little importance since all of my problems came to find me.

    I organized a carriage ride into the city and took great care not to be seen as I headed to my destination. Tucked away on the second floor of a three-story building was an unassuming metal door. If I didn¡¯t know any better ¨C I would have said that what lay beyond it was a storeroom for one of the businesses that surrounded it. In actuality, this was an apartment occupied by a woman named Gertrude.

    According to Caius, she was the only trustworthy information broker he knew. Everyone else was liable to hand out unreliable info for the sake of getting their money, but Gertrude prided herself on sourcing everything she said. She had never led him wrong when it came to working on jobs.

    With her close proximity to Church Walk and her interest in getting noble gossip into her portfolio, she became the best option I could find in moving the matter along. All I needed to do was convince her that I was on the level. Easier said than done when I looked like a lost child.

    I knocked three times and waited.

    At the exact moment when I considered the possibility of her not being home, the slot on the door slid open and revealed a pair of weathered eyes looking directly over my head and to the wall behind me. I cleared my throat and grabbed her attention.

    ¡°What do you want? Are you lost?¡±

    ¡°Caius sent me.¡±

    The tired eyes peering through the gap in the door were understandably worried about the diminutive height of the latest patron, but the simple mention of Caius¡¯ name was enough to push aside her caution and unlock it. The older woman pulled it aside and again was forced to confront the fact that I was, in fact, a teenage girl.

    ¡°Caius sent you?¡± she said with no small amount of distaste.

    ¡°Caius Willow, yes. I helped him with a pressing matter a while ago and he handed me your address in exchange.¡±

    ¡°Caius is a bloody fool ¨C but I never expected him to compromise me to someone your age...¡±

    ¡°He hasn¡¯t compromised you in the slightest. I believe that you¡¯ll find being friends with me is in your best interest. After all, nobles always have money burning a hole in their pockets.¡±

    She stared long and hard at me, before snapping her fingers.

    ¡°Maria Walston-Carter. Am I right in guessing that¡¯s who you are?¡±

    ¡°Well done. I take it that you¡¯ve studied up on me before.¡±

    ¡°Aye, and now I wonder why the hell you¡¯re knocking on my door. This isn¡¯t a place for people like you, even if I were to ignore the more pressing matter of your age.¡±

    ¡°The ¡®why¡¯ should be obvious. You¡¯re in the business of information, and I need information about a particular project that¡¯s all the rage around the city these days. I¡¯m willing to pay for it.¡±

    Gertrude was sick of speaking openly through a closed door, so she unlocked it and allowed me to step into the small apartment she called home. That small floor space was further constrained by a maze of stacked papers, books and filing cabinets. I could barely see through to the sitting area by the window, and there was a dining table buried beneath the chaos somewhere.

    This was the type of home that a lunatic would create. It was practically unnavigable for anybody but her. It was obvious that she¡¯d flip her lid if I so much as touched or moved any of it without her permission. Those thousands of papers and books and whatever else contained all of the information someone in her line of business would need.

    ¡°Working from home may be convenient, but this seems to be a tad overboard.¡±

    Gertrude shut the door behind me and locked it again to keep prying eyes and ears out. Now we could enjoy a candid discussion about what I was looking for from her.

    ¡°Out with it then. I don¡¯t want to be caught fraternizing with an influential little lady like you, Goddess knows what that¡¯ll do to my reputation.¡±

    She got over the age hump very quickly. She was all business, perhaps we were even kindred spirits.

    ¡°It should be obvious that I¡¯m here to ask for information from you. A situation is developing and I¡¯m helping a friend resolve it.¡±

    ¡°How generous of you.¡±

    ¡°Cedric Roderro is said to be the lead investor of the Church Walk Redevelopment Plan. He has a huge list of fellow businessmen who want a piece of the action. I presume you know all about it. I need to know what you know. What¡¯s going on at Church Walk, any recent events surrounding it, and information about the men who are funding it.¡±

    Gertrude was eager to pour cold water on my request; ¡°Hold on a second there, lass. That kind of info would normally come at a high price, but given recent circumstances I¡¯m not willing to part with it at all.¡±

    I smiled, ¡°If money isn¡¯t enough, I also brought a few documents that you might be interested in. The kind of document that a noble would not appreciate getting into the right hands.¡±

    I reached into my pocket and held out a stack of letters and figures stolen from the blackmail chest. I concluded that keeping all of it was a waste of time and space, so I strategically picked out a certain number of them that covered a wide gamut of bad behaviour. I took one from the stack and handed it to her.

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that you have dirt, lass?¡±

    ¡°Oh, lots of it ¨C actually.¡±

    The scepticism was plain as day on her face, but that changed very quickly once she realized what she was holding. It was a letter sent by the recently departed Lady Rentree, to a bevvy of other nobles, and the writing within that letter was utterly scandalous in nature. Not only was it a piece of evidence that could have put her and them behind bars, but it was also a mud-flinging exercise where they all insulted some other influential people.

    ¡°This handwriting is the real thing,¡± she whispered, ¡°Where in the Goddess¡¯ name did you find this? Did Caius give it to you?¡±

    ¡°He was involved in sourcing it, yes.¡±

    She sighed, ¡°Caius is the only maniac I know who could have pulled that off, or possessed the immense stupidity to try and tangle with Lady Rentree. He¡¯s not sleeping in the bay right now, is he?¡±

    ¡°He is alive and well. He cut his losses and ran to the other side of Walser after all that messy business. Now, what is the reason behind your hesitation?¡±

    Gertrude placed the letter down onto the table; ¡°It¡¯s for your own protection, and mine. It started out like any other rumour I get passed through. A few hours later I was getting desperate pleas from my source not to share it. The only reason that could happen is if it involves a government agency.¡±

    ¡°WISA?¡±

    Gertrude¡¯s mouth dropped. She did not anticipate me guessing that right on the first try. That was a perfectly reasonable explanation. Gertrude was protecting her sources and trying to dodge the most vicious law enforcement around. They could plug a leak with ruthless efficiency - and that would lead them back to her.

    Gertrude pinched the bridge of her nose, ¡°Where did you hear that name?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so dour! As we are all aware, WISA is a public organization that protects Walser from internal threats.¡±

    The sarcasm was biting and Gertrude picked up on my game right away.

    ¡°Aye, public. Which is why the average person on the street has no idea that they even bloody exist. Either you¡¯ve been diving into legal documents in the archive, or you¡¯ve had first-hand experience with them. I seem to recall your Father being involved in the Scuncath affair.¡±

    ¡°That is beside the point,¡± I said, ¡°I¡¯ve made my offer. All the money I can spare and this treasure trove of the finest political blackmail I can muster. I want to know everything about the Church Walk Project. Who¡¯s heading it, who¡¯s funding it, who¡¯s involved on the ground, and how far along it is. I also want to know why WISA is involved.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re putting me in a horrible spot here, Maria.¡±

    Gertrude was extremely close to cracking and telling me the facts. She was making a calculation in her mind. Was it worth the risk? She couldn¡¯t trust me, that was assumed from the start, which was why I leaned so heavily on giving her a selection of valuable letters as payment. When there was no trust, it was all about the transaction.

    There was one other factor for Gertrude to consider. I was a teenager. It was highly unlikely that I would expose her through irresponsible action, and who would take me at my word if I started spreading rumours about WISA poking around Church Walk?

    Maria¡¯s picturesque face and small stature were both a blessing and a curse. I could get away with murder because of it, but in a pinch, they tended to pose challenges that made survival more difficult. People naturally trusted me more than they would have otherwise. In the game, Maria would abuse that fact to her advantage constantly and manipulate everyone she met. Gertrude wasn¡¯t going to fall for the puppy dog eyes routine ¨C but that subconscious willingness to trust me was still there.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    I sealed the deal by putting down a bundle of cash and the rest of the letters. Gertrude¡¯s temperance finally broke in two.

    ¡°Fine! You little devil. I¡¯ll tell you about what happened, but if you so much as say a peep about this to anyone else there¡¯ll be hell to pay!¡±

    Gertrude walked to one of the cabinets and opened a drawer, rifling through an overstuffed selection of beige folders until she found the one she wanted. She laid it out on the table and started to talk through the stuff I already knew. She listed each investor, how much they had supposedly put into the plan, and what their involvement with the project was.

    It turned out that only three people were actively helping run the scheme. Cedric, who was at the head of the ship. Sebtland Burton, who was seemingly related to Dalia from the academy, was in charge of greasing palms with the city council. The last name was Concetta Van Walser, whom even Gertrude wasn¡¯t overly familiar with. As far as she could tell, she was the wife of a young man from a cadet branch of the main royal family. She was in charge of selling the idea to the residents and the investors.

    But those two names weren¡¯t the ones I needed to worry about. Gertrude had nothing on them beyond their assigned responsibilities, which they executed without dipping their toes into murky waters. Sensing that she wasn¡¯t hitting the areas I was interested in, she put the stuffy papers down and moved into the recent news.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say that these are connected for certain ¨C but one of my contacts at the nearby morgue tells me that there¡¯s a whole lot of weird stuff happening. They service Church Walk and the like.¡±

    ¡°What kind of weird?¡±

    ¡°A group of gang members got stabbed to death a few days ago and now the entire district is trying to break into and get the victims back. One of those bodies, the culprit, showed up with skin as pale as paper. He says that WISA agents have been poking around the place and questioning the officers inside.¡±

    ¡°Sounds chaotic, and all conveniently happening within the confines of Church Walk.¡±

    Gertrude frowned, ¡°Gang violence is nothing new ¨C but my contact says that there¡¯s no indication that the killer was involved with any of them. Nobody¡¯s come forward to claim responsibility, but there is a particular group of people who aren¡¯t happy with the Walkers at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Cedric and his investors.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. They¡¯ve been twisting arms and keeping the residents from selling their property, even when Cedric Roderro kept pushing the price up to try and convince them. I think that Robert Van Gervan wants his cut.¡±

    ¡°Bribing him sounds easier than murdering every member of his gang.¡±

    She shrugged, ¡°Who¡¯s to say? They might be trying to intimidate them before offering them any cash, or the whole organization might be so unwieldy and have so many moving parts that they can¡¯t control it.¡±

    Not likely.

    Gertrude took my silence as an opportunity to look through her new blackmail, and for an older woman, she certainly got excited like a child on Christmas morning. Her eyes took in every detail, scanning the written word and committing it to memory. She was already coming up with a million ways to monetize that information. She could take some nobles to the cleaners with that kind of material.

    ¡°Did he say anything specific about the body?¡±

    ¡°He refused to beyond their complexion ¨C which means that it¡¯s probably the aspect of the case that WISA is interested in.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all I need to hear.¡±

    Gertrude was helpful enough, and the combined weight of the money and my blackmail wasn¡¯t a large burden. If these events were all connected to one another, then Cedric was hanging around with some dangerous types. Ideally for Adrian it would mean him getting into legal trouble without having to step out of line to try and kill him directly.

    ¡°Thank you very much,¡± I concluded, ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to put that to good use.¡±

    ¡°As long as you don¡¯t lead anybody back here, lass. Keep an eye out.¡±

    She didn¡¯t have to tell me. I was always paranoid.

    Gertrude stopped reading for a moment to open the door and let me out. I was probably the strangest client she¡¯d had thus far during her career. A teenage noble wouldn¡¯t be caught dead around a poor area like this. She said nothing more and slammed it shut behind me as I stepped back out into the stairway.

    My visit to the city wasn¡¯t over yet. There was a lot more to be done with the time that I had. It was only a week and a half until the next academy term began, and that would keep us occupied and away from the action for the following three months. That was simply too long to let the issue fester in the background.

    I slipped back onto the street and considered what to do next. Getting close to Church Walk itself was not going to be particularly constructive. It was a large district and just because it was the focus of Cedric¡¯s efforts didn¡¯t mean it was worth visiting. Getting access to the body also sounded like a dead end. I originally hoped that Gertrude would know more, but her contact was scared to death of having any leaks traced back to him by WISA.

    This was the core issue of being on the outside trying to look in. A list of names was one thing, but finding them and figuring out what made them tick was difficult when they didn¡¯t habitually update people on every moment of their lives via social media. Cedric, Concetta and Sebtland were the targets.

    Rather than waste my time chasing after them like a headless chicken, it made more sense to anticipate what Cedric would do next. Gertrude suggested that he was going to bribe Robert Van Gervan to give up his resistance to the project and leave it alone. The solution was obvious. Put myself into the right place at the right time and make sure it didn¡¯t happen.

    I also couldn¡¯t lose sight of what Adrian wanted from me. His original ask was only for evidence of his involvement in the monarchists¡¯ stealing the watch and his subsequent kidnapping at the hands of the Scuncath. At first, I presumed that they attacked the homes at random and grabbed whomever they found, but Adrian was extremely adamant that they couldn¡¯t have known he was at the estate during the attack.

    Hoffman¡¯s work in getting them organized was worth worrying about. He was a military man, so it was safe to guess that he wouldn¡¯t greenlight that type of ambitious attack without intelligence to use first. Between the two the watch was more pressing, and the canary in the coal mine that I intended to use to out his scheme and confirm Adrian¡¯s fears.

    I had to tread carefully. Rampaging through noble society and scuppering development deals wasn¡¯t going to help us. I held myself to a somewhat exacting standard about where and when I would interfere in someone¡¯s life. Without evidence of Cedric¡¯s involvement with the monarchist movement, I could hardly go out of my way to make his existence miserable.

    Even then ¨C showing that an influential man or woman was speaking with monarchists was easy. They made up forty percent of parliament and a slightly lower proportion of the population. You were never more than a stone¡¯s throw away from someone who longed for the good old days. Cedric had every reason to curry favour from them when he was trying to execute such an ambitious plan.

    I headed out onto the street and pondered my next move. I couldn¡¯t rely on luck to bring me to the doorstep of where the bribery was occurring. My thought process was brought to an abrupt end as a familiar face bumped into me from the front. I felt a petite hand slip into the pocket at the front of my coat and removed the leather purse that was concealed inside.

    It was her again, the thief I ran into with Franklin way back when.

    This time she¡¯d gotten one over on me while I was distracted. Her instincts were good enough for her to realize that I was aware of what she had stolen from my pocket. Her face filled with panic. She twisted on her heel and made a mad dash down the street, hoping that the rich rube she¡¯d pickpocketed wouldn¡¯t find it in herself to give chase. It might have worked on any other girl.

    It was terrible for my cover but I couldn¡¯t let her get away with that. I kept my head low and launched into a pursuit. The thief deftly weaved her way between the large groups of people walking back and forth on the pavement ¨C but I was every bit as experienced with urban pursuits as she was with being an escape artist.

    She was younger than me and less athletic. The gap between us was disappearing at an alarming pace. She turned her head back to keep an eye on me between movements, each one confirming her error in succession. I was a bad mark. I was the type of person that a pickpocket wanted to avoid at all costs.

    Her youthful stubbornness refused to let her toss the contraband aside to stop me. She took my sprint as a challenge. She hooked a sharp left and ran down an alleyway, rolling beneath a gap in a wooden fence that blocked the two sides. I kept close to the wall and used a nearby trash can to launch myself up and over, landing into a roll and seeing her deer-in-the-headlights expression.

    Acting quickly, she went right at the end and down the road. I kept close, edging closer and closer with every stride. I hadn¡¯t even broken a sweat yet ¨C but she was struggling to maintain the frantic pace. Most of her victims would have given up by now.

    She had another trick up her sleep. Struggling for traction on the wet paving stones, she started to run a route that I instantly recognized. She was falling into old patterns and relying on a backup plan. What that plan was soon became apparent as she ducked through an archway and headed into an interior courtyard surrounded by homes. She carelessly tossed aside a washing line covered with freshly cleaned sheets to frustrate and entangle me, but the real goal was a fire escape that was under renovation.

    The thief clambered up a thin wooden plank that had been leant against the side and climbed up, before reaching down and snatching it away before I could use it to follow her. She left it on the first floor of the scaffold and stood back with an exhausted smile on her lips. That singular moment taken to gloat about her victory was what sealed her fate.

    The first level was too tall for me to reach without assistance, but the fire escape was built far enough away from the wall that there was a significant gap between it and the brickwork. I charged ahead at full speed and disappeared beneath her feet. I scrambled up the wall, found a handhold on the lip of the closest window, and kicked away while turning a hundred and eighty degrees. The entire structure vibrated as I clasped onto the side and pulled my body weight up using my arms.

    Which conveniently brought me to the other side where the steps up were located. The thief tried to jump back down and escape, but they were too slow. I grabbed them by the back of their shirt and dragged them away, forcing them against one of the supporting struts using my forearm.

    ¡°You¡¯re some kind of bloody freak, lady!¡±

    Now that we were up close and personal, she finally remembered who I was.

    ¡°Bugger me! You again?¡±

    I snatched my purse back from her other hand and released her from my grip. To prove a point, I opened the purse and revealed that it had been empty the entire time. The only money inside was a handful of spare notes and change that wouldn¡¯t buy her anything of importance.

    Defeated, she slumped back and threw up her hands.

    ¡°You got me. I¡¯ve never seen anyone run that chuffing fast before...¡±

    ¡°Do I smell like money?¡± I wondered.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she scoffed, ¡°I can spot a rich toff from a mile away. The way you walk, that snooty expression, those expensive clothes ¨C you¡¯re a big banner that¡¯s shouting ¡®Please steal all of my belongings!¡¯ You should stick to the countryside. It¡¯s easier out there.¡±

    Sensing that her words were not affecting me, she changed her approach.

    ¡°No harm no foul, yeah? You got your bloody purse back, and you don¡¯t want to be startin¡¯ no trouble with me.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    She reached into her front pocket and pulled out a small white cloth which dangled loosely towards her stomach.

    ¡°I¡¯m a Walker! My Pa¡¯s a big shot ¡®round here. Nobody messes with me because they know it¡¯ll be the last thing they ever do.¡±

    ¡°Put your rag away. I could beat you black and blue and there wouldn¡¯t be a damn thing he could do about it. Who do you take me for? I¡¯m more insulted by the cheek of you pulling rank than the threat.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a rag!¡± she argued, ¡°Snobs like you think that it isn¡¯t a big deal ¨C but this is a genuine piece of undyed cotton! It¡¯s our pride as a-¡±

    ¡°-I don¡¯t care one bit about your pride. I¡¯m not going to hand you to the police anyway. They won¡¯t arrest you. Since I won this little game, it only seems fair that you give some something in return.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any money, and I wouldn¡¯t give it to a spoilt pig like you anyway!¡±

    I rolled my eyes and got down onto one knee to even our positions, ¡°I want to know what¡¯s going on in Church Walk right now.¡±

    The thief shook her head; ¡°Why would you want to know that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m asking the questions here. I could always reconsider my decision to let bygones be bygones. You seemed very eager to do that before.¡±

    In that moment, pressed against the cold metal of the fire escape and with my menacing red eyes peeling away her protective armour of anger and conceit, the thief discovered what it meant to be on the receiving end of a twisted arm. Faced with another humiliation at my hands, or even worse, the potential for the police to take the crime seriously having been committed against a noble, she chose the smart option.

    ¡°Alright. Bloody hell. I¡¯ll tell you whatever you want but don¡¯t ask about how the gang runs. Pa keeps me out of that stuff.¡±

    ¡°But he lets you pickpocket people on the street?¡±

    ¡°We need to earn money somehow,¡± she replied dismissively.

    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt that, but if he wants to keep you safe he should reconsider. Pickpocketing can be a dangerous business. First, what¡¯s your name? It isn¡¯t good manners to keep referring to you as ¡®the thief.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Kelly. Kelly M¨¹ller.¡±

    ¡°Okay Miss M¨¹ller, let¡¯s have a pleasant conversation.¡±

    I retracted my previous comment, as it seemed that Lady Luck was smiling at me.

 Chapter 118

    We used the plank to get back down from the fire escape and found a quiet spot in a nearby urban park. Kelly made sure to keep the cotton cloth visible on her so that we weren¡¯t interrupted during our friendly discussion. She was shockingly cooperative for someone so inflexible.

    ¡°Go ahead then. What do you want to hear?¡±

    ¡°Recently your family will have been sent an offer for the purchase of your home and the land it stands on. Is that correct?¡±

    Kelly nodded, ¡°How did you know that?¡±

    ¡°A friend of mine¡¯s brother is tangled up with it. A collection of nobles has put their money behind a plan to completely demolish Church Walk and replace it with something more palatable to the city council. To do that, they need to buy every house and building they can.¡±

    ¡°My Pa talked to my Mum about it a few times, but I wasn¡¯t really listening to it. He said it was a lot of money, more than what he expected when he first heard about it, but he also said it was their final offer.¡±

    ¡°Missing pieces may as well make the plan impossible. They¡¯re desperate to get all of the land around here. Those high offers were meant to make the purchase go smoothly, but your gang has been running interference to frustrate them.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just the gang. Everyone was in a right tizzy about it. There are a lot of people round ¡®ere who don¡¯t want that dirty money.¡±

    ¡°I imagine that a lot of them would have to find new jobs. They¡¯re not going to risk making a small profit on their homes for that.¡±

    ¡°He stopped talking about it after that, and then a week later a group of his friends got killed by some lunatic with a knife. He¡¯s not happy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m aware of the attack. The person responsible is the most popular man in Walser, dare I say, everybody is trying to get his body for themselves.¡±

    ¡°Not the gang,¡± Kelly contested, ¡°They were trying to get the other members¡¯ bodies back for the funeral. It¡¯s going to be a big procession through the Walk, and then to the chapel so that they can be buried. But I heard there was trouble when they went to the morgue this morning. Someone used magic and fired into the crowd, and a bunch of ¡®em got injured.¡±

    ¡°You know, that sounds like something of a pattern to me. Perhaps gathering in large numbers at this point in time is a bad idea?¡±

    She shrugged, ¡°They¡¯re not calling off the funeral ¨C no matter what happens. The whole point of the gang is that they don¡¯t back down when people get violent in the neighbourhood.¡±

    ¡°If they¡¯re targeting the gang specifically, the best course of action would be to hide your affiliation and keep an eye out for who¡¯s responsible. That implies that cooler heads prevail at the top of the ladder, and I doubt that is the case.¡±

    If they felt that their authority was being challenged by these unknown assailants then they were only going to double down on the losing approach. The measure of a leader could be seen in times like these. Putting your followers before your pride is a difficult task. Simply removing the white objects from their person had no negative impact on them, and presently it served as a clear signal to the attackers that they were the ones they needed to kill.

    Gang members could be identified psychologically by their fear of collective persecution. Solidarity was an important narrative that the leadership sold to their underlings. They had to stand firm in the face of violence and suppression. An attack on them was an attack on the whole, and a signal to double down on their dedication to the cause.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re so interested in what¡¯s going on in our neck of the woods. You should go back home and leave people like me well enough alone.¡±

    ¡°If your Father is involved, then it¡¯s a problem for us both. Is it so hard to believe that I might have a reason to step in?¡±

    ¡°Whatever your reason is ¨C it can¡¯t be good. Noble bloodsuckers like you are always angling for something. Always trying to squeeze good people for every mark they have, and always getting around the rules that the rest of us are expected to follow.¡±

    ¡°Them getting their way and demolishing the entire district would be problematic for me. It¡¯s unlikely that we¡¯ll meet again regardless, so it may be best to cast this meeting to the back of your mind and forget all about it.¡±

    Kelly stared at her feet and silently steamed over what I was saying to her. She was around my age, though without the benefit of a previous life lived to teach her a lot of valuable lessons. Sometimes it was easy for me to lose sight of that fact. The people around me were their real age. I couldn¡¯t launch into a detailed explanation of what was going on and expect her to understand.

    She grunted in frustration, ¡°I thought you were just some prissy, coddled little noble girl. Where the hell did you learn how to do all of that stuff?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid to report that I am indeed a prissy little noble girl. Being coddled is a problem that can be overcome with effort and experience, if only I could say the same for my diminutive stature.¡±

    Kelly stared blankly at me; ¡°I understood some of that.¡±

    ¡°What I mean to say is that I¡¯m an athlete. I like to keep my body in good condition. I run laps around the campus in the morning, I¡¯ve also trained my strength and agility to extensive levels.¡±

    ¡°Why though?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s useful. Good for catching pickpockets, or dealing with any other ruffians that try to pull a fast one on me.¡±

    Kelly grumbled at that comment but she couldn¡¯t contest the truth behind it. It was because of that training that I got my purse back and got so much useful information out of her about the Church Street gang. I was still a pale imitation of my old self in terms of strength and stamina. The biggest shock in waking up in this new world was the loss of my physical abilities. It felt like I was about to pass out and die after a few minutes of jogging.

    ¡°One more thing. Who¡¯s in charge of the gang right now?¡±

    ¡°Robert.¡±

    ¡°Robert Van Gervan?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°And where does he like to spend his days?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Kelly shrugged, ¡°He¡¯ll probably be at the bar on Church Street. That¡¯s where a lot of the gang members go when they aren¡¯t busy.¡±

    Not the kind of place I could go without being picked out. But it was unlikely that Robert Van Gervan would choose to accept his bribe money in a public place like that. He¡¯d essentially be selling out his gang and the district by taking any more money from Cedric in exchange for staying out of his business.

    What did Robert Van Gervan value more; his ability to be a petty tyrant ruling over his small fiefdom in the city, or the money that was on the line now that Cedric was handing it out like candy? There was a real chance that taking his offer would cause the Church Street gang to collapse in on itself, or for him to be summarily dismissed from his position as the gang¡¯s leader.

    Installing cronies into the highest positions and letting them take a cut of the proceeds was the best way to avoid that situation arising. You could keep a lid on it until the very last moment and get away scot-free so long as you remembered not to visit that part of the city again.

    It was a productive conversation. I got what I wanted out of her.

    ¡°That¡¯s good enough. I¡¯ll let you go with a warning.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Want me to stop picking pockets?¡±

    I laughed, ¡°No. Do what you like ¨C just remember my face so that you don¡¯t make the same mistake again.¡±

    I jumped up from the bench and stepped away, leaving her in a confused stupor. She was asking the wrong person for a long lecture on morality. I used to kill for cash. Stealing change from someone¡¯s pocket was hardly worth getting upset over.

    Before I could reach the narrow pathway that led out of the courtyard, a shadowy figure appeared in my way and started to walk through. I stepped aside and allowed them to go first as they had no intent of stopping for my sake. They stopped in front of me and spared me a passing glance.

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°A lady of your station shouldn¡¯t associate with criminals.¡±

    A chill ran through my body.

    That raspy voice, and a pair of eyes that spoke of a deep sickness. He was around my age and stature. He kept gliding along, towards the bench where Kelly was sitting with the white cotton still dangling from her front pocket. It didn¡¯t take a genius to put two and two together.

    I aborted my decision to leave. Something bad was about to go down, and I got the impression that the boy was connected to all of this somehow. His skin was pale, just like the man who turned up dead after killing the gang members in Church Walk. A hand slipped into the pocket of his coat. That was all I needed to see.

    I grabbed the back of their arm and pulled it towards me, pulling aside the fabric and revealing a revolver with a short barrel. Kelly leapt to her feet. I tried to hold him back, but his strength was unusual. I could barely keep a hold of him as he raised his arm and lined up the sights.

    I released him and upped the ante. I threw my entire body weight into him, knocking him aside into the wooden fence that divided the area and causing his shot to go astray. Kelly took that as her cue to make a run for it, dashing past us and towards the alleyway.

    I quickly discovered that my previous impression of his strength was not mistaken. For however small their figure was, every single atom of their being was pushing back against me. He far eclipsed any of the other people I¡¯d grappled with, even more than the adult men who towered over me. This wasn¡¯t normal ¨C and that was further proven when they struck out with an elbow. It felt like a sledgehammer hitting me in the gut.

    I staggered back. He turned on me with a malicious scowl.

    ¡°Why the hell are you protecting street trash like her?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about protecting her. I¡¯m going to beat some answers out of you.¡±

    He struck at me first with a series of punches and kicks. Someone taught him how to fight. It was still amateurish, but there was no doubt that he wasn¡¯t doing this blindly. His footwork and momentum were too good for that. It was only when I opened a gap that I came to appreciate how much damage that single hit to my stomach had done. I could barely drag air into my desperate lungs.

    If I stepped back too far ¨C he¡¯d pull the gun and shoot me. I was stuck.

    I could use nihility magic and kill him on the spot, but that would snuff out an important lead on what Cedric was involved with. That was an absolute last resort. He wasn¡¯t interested in letting me get the opportunity. There was a sudden flash of anger on his features. The air around us crackled with an uncontrollable energy. It was the unmistakable sign of someone about to unleash a powerful spell.

    ¡°Go away!¡±

    A sonic blast consumed me, emanating from where he was standing and knocking back whatever stood in its path. I was flung through the air and into the fence, the aged wood shattering into dangerous shards as the weight of my body broke through it. I fell onto the concrete beyond in a daze.

    Happy that I wasn¡¯t going to pursue him any further, the boy didn¡¯t even stop to finish the job. He was single-mindedly focused on tracking down Kelly and killing her. I reached into my coat and tried to draw my gun, but my limbs weren¡¯t cooperating with me.

    My ears were ringing from the wave he sent out, and at that moment I couldn¡¯t step back and be astounded at how much magical energy he released in one go. That would have killed any normal person and it would have killed a grade five mage like me.

    I was pissed off.

    It was rare for anyone to get the upper hand over me. The easiest shot I had at figuring out what was going on had just slipped through my fingers. I forced my body back up, leaning back against the nearest solid wall and taking a moment to collect myself. I was hurting all over. It was lucky that I hadn¡¯t broken anything from the fall.

    ¡°Son of a bitch, wait until I get my hands on you, asshole...¡±

    Samantha was probably relaxing at home, unaware of what was going on in the East.

    <hr>

    Samantha stared at the newly constructed barn with a terse frown upon her brow. It had taken a significant amount of time, money and effort to clean up the mess caused by the Scuncath attack on their home. Animals, tools and machinery needed to be replaced, and a large quantity of other useful items were lost in the fire too.

    Mercifully ¨C the machine that her Father used to plough the fields was only damaged on the outside. There were some dents to the panels that covered the internal workings and a few melted pieces, but the company was more than happy to take the damaged tractor and repair it while giving them a replacement for a fee that was significantly less than purchasing new.

    That was a miracle for their finances. It was also a small miracle that nobody in her family was harmed, and that extended onwards to the other hostages who were taken by the cult and kept so that they could be used as human sacrifices. Maria¡¯s timely intervention prevented the worst from coming to pass.

    For all of her doubt and unwillingness to accept it, Maria was always there to do the right thing in the moment. Samantha had thought long and hard about what she said to Adrian at the time and realized that she saw violence as a burden, or as a line that one could only cross once. The way she normally spoke about it portrayed herself as someone who relished violence for its own sake. Samantha disagreed with that characterisation.

    Samantha couldn¡¯t imagine doing the same, but she knew now that Maria didn¡¯t want her to. Maria comprehended the true horror of taking a life and tried to keep others from doing the same. Wasn¡¯t that the just course of action in the end? Defending others, being concerned for their wellbeing, and shouldering a burden that would haunt them. Those were not the decisions of an amoral person.

    Samantha held Maria¡¯s most closely guarded secrets, but there was still a lot she didn¡¯t know about her. A burgeoning teenage mind was starting to sow the seeds of a more nuanced view of the world. Maria was righteous, yet couldn¡¯t accept that she was. She decried those who would harm her friends and family, yet engaged in a pattern of retaliation that she was clearly ashamed of.

    ¡°I hope she isn¡¯t getting into trouble right now,¡± Samantha mumbled.

    ¡°Hey, Sam, are you done mucking out the pen yet?¡±

    Samantha returned to reality with Tobias walking down the hill to her rest spot by the tree.

    ¡°Naturally. I might be attending the Royal Academy, but I¡¯m not too high class to do my usual chores.¡±

    Tobias sighed, ¡°Brag about it a little more, why don¡¯t you? I hope you don¡¯t forget about us honest folk when you¡¯re a famous doctor in the city.¡±

    Samantha laughed, ¡°I never said I was moving into the city. I could make a living out here just as easily. They¡¯re always looking for more doctors at the local clinics. I looked into it.¡±

    ¡°If I were you ¨C I¡¯d jump at the chance to get out of Channery for a while. Bless this town, but a change of scenery would be nice every now and then.¡±

    ¡°The grass is always greener on the other side. The city is maddening. The smell is terrible. There¡¯s smoke in the air all the time and it clogs up your nose, and don¡¯t get me started on the noise. It never stops!¡±

    Tobias wasn¡¯t so easily convinced, ¡°Sounds like fun to me.¡±

    ¡°If you say so. I¡¯d bet good money that you¡¯d be begging to come back home within the week.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You would.¡±

    The petty argument continued even as Samantha picked up her tools and returned them to their designated places in the barn and shed. This was Samantha¡¯s home life in a single moment. Tobias refusing to act his age, picking a fight that was meaningless while she was trying to focus on her chores.

    The bucket meeting the floor signalled an abrupt end to their debate about how much of the city lifestyle he could handle.

    ¡°This Doctor thing ¨C do you think you can make it work?¡±

    Samantha wasn¡¯t sure. She still wanted to try.

    ¡°Dad was pretty upset with me when I told him.¡±

    ¡°Was he?¡± Tobias frowned, ¡°I thought he said he¡¯d support you no matter what.¡±

    Samantha rolled her eyes, ¡°He might have said those words, but he looked like he was sucking on a lemon. The idea of one of his children leaving the family business and taking on a new type of work is hard for him. All that time spent teaching us the ropes, he must feel like the effort was thrown away. I¡¯m not going to be mucking out stables or clipping hooves if I become a Doctor.¡±

    ¡°You make him sound so selfish.¡±

    ¡°It is. I mean, I¡¯m not judging him for it. He¡¯s worried about me getting my qualifications and launching into a field he isn¡¯t familiar with. He can¡¯t really support me in the same way if I do that.¡±

    Tobias and Ben were waiting in the wings to inherit the farm. Samantha knew that she wouldn¡¯t get a look in if it came down to making that decision in the future. Her brothers were carefully moulded into a pair of practical, physically active men who could handle whatever the farm threw at them.

    ¡°He¡¯ll come around to it eventually. Remember when Ben said he wanted to take over the farm and he broke out into tears? It¡¯ll be the same as that.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re never going to let that go.¡±

    ¡°Nope. Not in a million years.¡±

    Samantha kicked the mud from her boots and considered all of the challenges that faced her on the path to becoming a Doctor, and how amazing it would feel to be regarded as such a highly skilled individual.

    ¡°My healing magic is a big advantage, but it¡¯s only as useful as what I know about the human body. I have to do a lot of studying to make sure that I best understand how to use it.¡±

    Samantha was starting to feel a lot more confident in her intelligence and ability, in no small part thanks to what Maria said to her about effort defining those who succeeded and those who failed. If there was ever an aspect that she couldn¡¯t remember ¨C that simply meant she needed to dedicate more time to it. She even suggested a helpful tip in regimenting her learning to two hours every day so that she wouldn¡¯t burn out.

    Tobias yawned and stretched out, ¡°What do all of your noble pals at the academy want to do?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t have a choice. Most of them are going to inherit the family empire and spend the rest of their days managing factories and the like. Not that it¡¯s a bad thing. They have more money than we could ever hope to earn.¡±

    ¡°But if you had that much money, you wouldn¡¯t have to worry about paying your bills. You could do whatever you wanted.¡±

    ¡°All the money in the world isn¡¯t enough. They could do that ¨C they could say that there¡¯s no need to keep on fighting and clawing to the top, but that isn¡¯t what they¡¯re taught to think. Time spent resting on your laurels is time in which someone else could steal it all away from you.¡±

    Tobias grimaced, ¡°No wonder they¡¯re so paranoid in the city if that¡¯s what their parents are teaching ¡®em.¡±

    When not facing hardships people seemingly created them on their own terms. Samantha was astounded at the level of paranoia and misbehaviour that was caused by the line of thinking instilled into the students by their families. She couldn¡¯t wrap her head around why they cared so passionately about ascending even higher than they already were. Money was no object, they had the ears of the major political parties, and in many cases they could get away with murder and face no repercussions from the law.

    Samantha sat on the steps that led to the porch and pondered the issue whilst staring at the new barn.

    The new barn was nothing unusual, but it did sting to lose a structure that had been on the property for decades. There was value in the old building. It represented the effort that her Grandparents had put into building the farm before Eugene took over with their passing.

    ¡°You know, I guess it¡¯s pretty natural to not want your stuff taken away,¡± Tobias mused, ¡°Old folk love to talk about letting go of your attachments and crap ¨C but it¡¯s hard to disconnect your head from your heart.¡±

    Samantha huffed, ¡°That¡¯s the most profound thing you¡¯ve ever said, Toby.¡±

    ¡°Make sure to savour it then. Those intelligent thoughts don¡¯t come around too often!¡±

 Chapter 119

    When I finally managed to climb back to my feet and stagger out of the courtyard, the first sight I was met with was not the bloodied body of Kelly. Everyone was going about their business as if nothing were amiss. It was a small victory given the events of the day. It meant she was smart enough to get the hell out of dodge when trouble came knocking.

    On the other hand, it was a complete disaster. I¡¯d failed to restrain the attacker and now I was injured for the futile effort. It would have been better for me to step back and let them get away. I stopped on the corner of the road and out of the way of the other people passing by to collect my thoughts and fix the kink in my back. Perhaps my new-found youth would see that injury healed promptly.

    What a bust.

    Adrian wouldn¡¯t want to hear the information I gathered as it didn¡¯t directly connect Cedric to the information leak. I wouldn¡¯t want to hear someone sketching in the margins either given the urgency of the problem. The only direction I had was that Cedric intended to win over the residents with a big cash handout. Was he going to push that further and directly bribe Robert Van Gervan?

    Sticking my nose into that was no guarantee of getting the answers I wanted, and that there was a group of assassins apparently trying to kill members of the gang was exactly the type of incident that I would invariably be pulled into given some time. This had the hallmarks of something that held wider implications for Walser as a whole. In other words ¨C Durandia was expecting me to get my hands dirty again.

    There was no getting around it if that was the case. I was simply counting down the days until a more significant movement forced me into direct action. I considered heading back to the carriage and meeting with Adrian again. There had to be another way to handle this.

    My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of an unexpected face cutting through the crowd. She wasn¡¯t expecting to see me either judging by her expression. The urge to walk over and speak with me was too great for her to ignore, so she crossed the street and strolled over to me.

    It was Veronica.

    ¡°Oh dear. Not you again.¡±

    Veronica wasn¡¯t amused by my joke, ¡°This is no time for frivolity, Maria. What are you doing wandering these streets alone?¡±

    I smiled, ¡°Shopping.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. And that¡¯s why you look like someone just threw you through a window? I could spot that limp from a mile away.¡±

    ¡°Since when did it become your job to babysit me?¡± I replied, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be focusing on more... important work?¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°I am. It doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t come over here and warn you about getting too close to this messy business. Of all the places to be right now, this is the worst. Don¡¯t tell me that¡¯s why you¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I won¡¯t.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s eyes rolled back, ¡°For goodness sake. Why is it so hard for you to stay out of trouble?¡±

    ¡°I have been staying out of trouble. I simply decided to visit a mutual friend and speak with them about an important matter that¡¯s arisen.¡±

    ¡°And would you mind telling me what that matter is, specifically?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. Adrian Roderro is worried that his Uncle has been dispensing compromising information to bad actors. He asked me to help him.¡±

    ¡°His uncle? Cedric Roderro?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right, but all I¡¯ve learnt is that he¡¯s tangled up in some foolhardy real estate scheme in Church Walk. That¡¯s hardly evidence that he¡¯s been collaborating with some ruthless monarchists.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s face said it all. That story was dangerously close in proximity to the case that she was working on at that exact moment. She must have known most of what I was talking about. You couldn¡¯t sneeze in this city without WISA hearing about it.

    ¡°How are the monarchists connected to this?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°They¡¯re not, not directly. The information Cedric supposedly leaked was used by the monarchists to steal something extremely valuable from him. That¡¯s a story entirely too long for me to explain on a tight schedule. The point is, we¡¯re attempting to draw a line between him and them so that his suspicions can be confirmed.¡±

    Veronica was not happy, ¡°I know first-hand how capable you are, but this is a dangerous path you¡¯re walking. I strongly recommend that you leave it there and allow the authorities to handle the rest.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be more than happy to,¡± I replied.

    ¡°Really? Just like that?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I am capable ¨C but I¡¯m also not the type of person to seek out conflict for the sake of it. We¡¯d all be better off if the police and WISA could close the case without us having to lift a finger. But you don¡¯t have probable cause to drag Cedric Roderro into the proceedings, beyond his financial interest in seeing the redevelopment project succeed.¡±

    Veronica, for what it was worth, seemed to genuinely consider the angle of Cedric being involved with the trouble happening in Church Walk. That was a strong motive. He was heavily invested both monetarily and emotionally into seeing the project through.

    Our relationship was on rocky footing after what happened at the fort though. It wasn¡¯t the type of outright manipulation that damaged it beyond repair, but she was inevitably going to be sore about the way I pushed Genta into destroying the book before she could retrieve it. I assumed she wasn¡¯t used to failure.

    How badly did she want to actually deliver that book to WISA? She had her reservations about giving that type of power to the people she knew well, but she didn¡¯t have a choice in the matter. Perhaps Genta destroying it himself was the best outcome for her. She could avoid taking direct blame for it while also avoiding the potentially disastrous consequences.

    ¡°I¡¯ll consider it if you tell me why you¡¯re limping around.¡±

    No harm in telling her.

    ¡°I was speaking with a bystander when another stranger came across us and started talking about murdering the poor girl. I stepped in to help, but they blew me halfway across the city with a concussive blast. I have no idea how they generated such immense magical force...¡±

    Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose, ¡°Did this bystander happen to have a white cloth on them?¡±

    I knew what it meant but was playing ignorant, ¡°She did. Is that important?¡±

    ¡°And what did the attacker look like?¡±

    ¡°About my age, male, a head taller than me, pale skin, wearing a hood. I didn¡¯t get the best look at their face during the scuffle. I should be able to walk this injury off without an issue. There was a fence there to break my fall.¡±

    ¡°That explains the bang I heard,¡± Veronica responded, ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that you managed to blunder headfirst into the case I¡¯m looking into. Stay out of my way, please. I mean it this time. There¡¯ll be no back alley deals or cooperation. I¡¯m under strict oversight.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll be satisfied with that so long as you give the Cedric issue some thought. It¡¯s extremely convenient for him that the organized resistance to his real estate plan has been meeting a grisly end.¡±

    We both knew that there was rarely that type of coincidence in the world of nobility. Either he was the one who initiated the killings, or someone else involved in the scheme was interested in ensuring its success given the large amount of capital that had been invested into it.

    There was a worrying sense that the person who attacked Kelly just moments before was special in some way. That type of magical firepower didn¡¯t simply appear out of thin air on demand as it did. It would have caused significant fatigue at best or outright killed them if they didn¡¯t possess the right amount of magical energy.

    ¡°I mean it. I don¡¯t want to see you here in the city again until this situation is resolved.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯d better hurry and see to it that I don¡¯t have the opportunity.¡±

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say I approve of this rebellious attitude of yours.¡±

    ¡°Take it up with my Father. This is hardly the time to be offering parental advice.¡±

    Veronica was angry about my reply ¨C but she knew better than to belabour the point when our relationship was already established as it was. ¡®Veronica¡¯ could not be a mother figure to Maria. Gwyneth, on the other hand, may have been able to. The problem was extracting herself from the lifelong creed of working with WISA.

    I presumed nothing so modern as retirement was on offer for people like her. She¡¯d seen enough classified information and scandalous manoeuvring to make her a high-risk asset for the rest of her life. Even if they did allow her to leave their employ ¨C it would be on an extremely tight leash, and the last thing she wanted to do was clue them into the fact that she had snuck away from them for a few months to give birth.

    ¡°I see no reason to stick around now that my quarry has made their escape. I hope to read some positive news in the paper soon.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± Veronica muttered.

    There was no more time to spare. Veronica peeled away and disappeared back into the shifting tides. Too much talk ¨C not enough results. I clicked my tongue and set off at a slow pace towards where the carriage was parked. I tried to straighten out my hair and clothes on the way so that Franklin wouldn¡¯t barrage me with questions.

    My next target was the eventual meeting between Cedric¡¯s people and Robert Van Gervan.

    <hr>

    Cedric was red-faced. He was already frustrated with the ways in which the monarchists were toying with his needs and wants. They sold him a palatable story about being equal partners in the arrangement, but now he knew that they were talking a load of old rubbish.

    Cedric responded by launching into a lobbying campaign to meet with the man a step above Ferrand in the chain. Gerard Verner Welt. As far as Adrian knew, he was the one calling the shots and telling Ferrand what to do. Ferrand resisted his initial attempts to meet with Welt, but the second attack in as many days pushed him over the edge.

    Persistence paid off. Ferrand was eventually told to lead Cedric to a meeting in the Theatre building the following day.

    ¡°Be careful with what you say around Welt. He can be temperamental,¡± Ferrand warned as they approached the door.

    Cedric refrained from pointing out that all of the monarchists he¡¯d met were the same. Welt was hardly going to pose a challenge given that context. He brushed away the advice and walked through the heavy wooden doors that led into Welt¡¯s office.

    Gerard Verner Welt was a tall, willowy figure. He had a gaunt face, pale skin, and thin blonde hair. His most distinctive feature was his cleft palate, which caused the right side of his mouth to turn upwards. His stern brown and booming, bass-filled voice commanded attention from those who followed in his wake.

    He was also a long-standing veteran of the monarchist movement and a senior member of the conservative party. He was held in high esteem by many of the other, less violent members of the wave. He was also seen as the singular figure who understood what was demanded to bring about the monarchy¡¯s restoration. Welt was not interested in gimmicks. He preferred results.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to say that I¡¯m not well pleased with this, Welt.¡±

    ¡°Mister Roderro ¨C to what do I owe the pleasure?¡±

    ¡°And pleasantries aren¡¯t going to smooth it over either. You already know what I¡¯m here to talk about. This is about the Church Walk project, and what you¡¯ve decided to do to get rid of the gangs that live there.¡±

    Welt¡¯s sour expression said a thousand words.

    ¡°Do you not approve?¡±

    ¡°What do you think? I wouldn¡¯t be here chasing after you if I did.¡±

    Cedric was in no mood to take a seat, so they were both left standing.

    ¡°This room is soundproof, and isolated from the others, so we may speak freely about the incidents. It is unfortunate, but it was assessed to be the best way to handle the criminal element in the shortest amount of time. It is intended to kill two birds with one stone, as they say.¡±

    ¡°I feel that you didn¡¯t understand my approach,¡± Cedric contested, ¡°We¡¯re trying to improve that area of the city ¨C not plunge it into even more criminality.¡±

    ¡°Church Walk has always been an embarrassing stain on the character of our fair city. I was extremely enthusiastic about lending you our support when I first heard about the plan.¡±

    ¡°That hardly explains the sudden escalation into violence. I¡¯m imploring you to hold back on any further schemes at least until the end of this week. I have another idea in mind for removing them from our path.¡±

    Welt tried to argue his side of the matter; ¡°Mister Sloan was insistent that we launch a practical test.¡±

    ¡°I only asked for your help because you told me that it wouldn¡¯t be intrusive. I think you and I have very different definitions of what ¡®intrusive¡¯ means. I¡¯ve got every police agency in the country sniffing around the place because of you!¡±

    Welt held out his hands and played the diplomat, ¡°I understand your concerns ¨C but you aren¡¯t connected to us. I have a reputation for keeping everything nicely segmented for a reason. It wouldn¡¯t do us any good for our most ardent supporters to be caught in the backlash should something go wrong.¡±

    ¡°My idiot brother thought the same thing until it bit him in the arse. You couldn¡¯t have possibly picked a worse time to do something like this. They¡¯ll not be giving you the slap on the wrist treatment after what he did.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to belabour the point, but I do disagree with your assessment of the timing. Trust in Parliament is the lowest it has been in some years, and our partners in the other restorative parties are gathering more support from the working voters. There are a lot of people who long for the glory years of Walser, and anything that shakes their confidence in the democratic path is advantageous to us. Church Walk is indicative of the decline of this nation.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    Welt turned and looked out of the office¡¯s window to the street opposite. The working MPs all received rooms at the back side of the building complex, most of which faced out towards the main avenue that ran along that edge of the property. Welt liked to observe people going about their business from his high vantage point. It took him a long while to enunciate what he meant.

    ¡°Church Walk is a symbol; a symbol of our industrialization - and a symbol of our decline. It was once a street that boasted a proud and long history, even a holy one, but those times have long since past us by. It has been allowed to fall into disrepair and squalor through inaction. The democratic men across the aisle speak of compassion in preserving it as it is now, but what is kind about allowing people to live there?¡±

    Cedric nodded, ¡°I agree. That¡¯s why we¡¯re going to change all of that.¡±

    ¡°A nation that allows a place like Church Walk to fester has no right to exist as it does. Paralysis has come for our society when quick and decisive action is needed. If for a matter as straightforward as this causes consternation, what hope do we have should any of our foreign rivals attempt to strike at us with force?¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Cedric repeated.

    ¡°Yet, despite our best efforts to offer these citizens a better alternative, there are some within their number who only seek to drag the rest down with them. It¡¯s a craven thing, is it not? These ¡®gangs¡¯ they speak of disgust me. Their loyalty should be to Walser and the royal family, and nothing else!¡±

    Cedric was starting to feel that Welt was more on board with the aggressive approach than he wanted to let on. He was trying to calm Cedric down and win back his support without admitting that he was going over a red line that he felt strongly about. Part of it was his ideology, but the other mystery was Mister Sloan ¨C whom Cedric was not acquainted with. He was clearly important if Welt was taking pointers from him.

    It sounded as if Welt wasn¡¯t in full control of what he was doing at least, which did not bode well for Cedric¡¯s efforts to keep them from escalating the situation any further. A rash of murders ostensively disconnected from him would still arouse the same type of suspicion. He had a clear motive that would turn him into a prime suspect.

    Cedric really believed that they were simply going to threaten them a little, or maybe beat a handful in a brawl. It took no time at all for them to surpass those expectations and start murdering them in broad daylight.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Why does Sloan need your men to murder the gangsters?¡±

    Welt was elusive, ¡°We¡¯re working on a personal project. Your requirements served us perfectly.¡±

    ¡°What type of personal project? What does that have to do with killing them?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that the existence of that project is a closely guarded secret. Did you not tell us that you were happy to let us reach your goal as we saw fit?¡±

    ¡°That was before I found out what you decided to do.¡±

    Welt sighed and steepled his fingers, ¡°As we speak ¨C there is a lull in our activity on that front. There will be no further killings for some time while we recalibrate. I hope that you will use this time wisely. Should you reach a peaceful solution with the gang and the residents, then we will have to find a new testing ground.¡±

    Cedric nodded, ¡°I will. I appreciate that your time is precious, so I¡¯ll take my leave.¡±

    He bowed politely and left the office. Ferrand was nowhere to be seen, so he leant against the corner of the corridor and exhaled heavily. The pressure that Welt exuded was enough to make him break out into a cold sweat.

    ¡°Goddess damn it. What were they thinking?¡± he whispered to himself.

    Ferrand told him that it was easy. A ¡®sure thing¡¯ that would minimize his liability and solve his problems at the snap of a finger. Instead, every government agency that could dispatch people onto the streets was scurrying around the place like rats. There were eyes and ears everywhere and it was only a matter of time until they started to breathe down his neck.

    It wouldn¡¯t be Ferrand and Welt taking the fall in that situation. It would be him. The only reason Cedric agreed to Ferrand¡¯s offer was because of the promises he made about how it would be basically invisible to the authorities. Ferrand and Welt were out of their minds. A single gang murder wasn¡¯t going to attract attention, but a pattern of high-profile massacres certainly would!

    Cedric was no ally of the working class, but he didn¡¯t hold them in such low esteem that he saw their deaths as an easily ignored blip that the police would overlook. That was evidently not the case. Welt and his gang were going about their plot whilst attracting as much attention as they could in the process. There were police all over Church Walk because of them.

    Worst of all was his heavy investment in property in the area. He¡¯d presented his plan to dozens of investors too. If they were looking for a man with a reason to kill members of the Church Street gang then they needn¡¯t look any further than him. It was only a matter of time until one of those potential investors talked to the police and he was subjected to a terse interview about his involvement.

    Cedric was resolute. He had to come up with a way to extract himself from this situation before it was too late. His only hope at that moment was the potential for Robert Van Gervan to accept a payout to stop getting in his way. If he could defuse the gang problem without violence, then there¡¯d be no need for Welt to kill any more of them.

    ¡°Oh! Cedric, did your meeting with Welt go as planned?¡±

    He glared at Ferrand from below, ¡°Yes. I suppose it was as good as one could expect on short notice.¡±

    Cedric redonned his mask of impassive drive and followed him back out of the building. They didn¡¯t have to know what he was planning, and they were already content to leave him in the dark as it was. He did not owe them any level of transparency now. In a game like this ¨C someone was going to pull the trigger first.

    Cedric intended to be the one laughing.

 Chapter 120

    Robert Van Gervan had a bad feeling about the arrangement. It was no exaggeration to say that his gang was under consistent assault by an unknown enemy. It was all too convenient for his liking. Now there was a letter under his door offering to talk it out. It sounded like a trap to his ears. He wouldn¡¯t dare go to the meeting spot personally given the circumstances.

    Which was what brought him to the courtyard behind Marco¡¯s home that morning. He¡¯d caught him in the middle of his day-to-day chores, hanging up some recently washed clothes on a line that ran between the two other houses behind his. This communal area was a common feature of homes in the area. Marco was not overjoyed to see him again, because he knew it involved begging him for a favour now that the situation had taken a turn for the urgent. For him, it was an unexpected visit from someone he¡¯d spurned two days before.

    ¡°Marco, I need someone who¡¯s experienced with this kind of thing.¡±

    ¡°When you say ¡®this kind of thing,¡¯ what do you mean?¡± Marco asked whilst still pinning his clothes to the line so they could dry.

    ¡°The bloke who¡¯s been buying up houses around Church Walk like a mental case wants to talk. He sent me a letter ¨C he¡¯s offering to bribe the gang to make us stop organizing the locals. Later this evening, that¡¯s when it¡¯s going to happen. From where I¡¯m standing, they probably want to lure me out and kill me.¡±

    Marco nodded, ¡°Obviously. I¡¯d recommend staying away.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going, but I don¡¯t know whether it¡¯s worth risking our guys to see what they¡¯re offering if they even plan to offer us cash in the first place.¡±

    ¡°I understand why you want me to help, but my services come at a premium. You¡¯d be better served finding someone else to handle this.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to go out of your way,¡± Robert argued, ¡°All I want you to do is make sure that everything¡¯s on the level. I¡¯ll give you a cut of whatever cash they bring with them.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re accepting the offer?¡±

    ¡°Of course not! I¡¯m going to hear what they have to say, and then steal it. They need to be taught a lesson about screwing with us, and Church Walk.¡±

    Marco sighed. It was an inelegant solution that also ignored his iron-clad rules for accepting work. He wasn¡¯t going to take any job unless the client paid part of the fee up-front, and even that was contingent on them not being able to pay the full amount in one go. He knew that Robert had enough dirty money to buy his services for a day or two without any hesitation.

    ¡°Why are you relying on me to fix all of your problems in the first place? It¡¯d be easier to take that white cloth out of your belts.¡±

    ¡°The people in Church Walk won¡¯t feel safe if we¡¯re not around, or if we¡¯re not visible.¡±

    Marco was dismissive, ¡°You don¡¯t even believe that yourself. Do you expect those words to move me? If that type of statement was convincing, I¡¯d be a member of the Pesci Syndicate and we wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re from Treveno?¡±

    Marco sighed, his name was enough of a give that Robert¡¯s ignorance was unusual.

    ¡°My parents were, but it¡¯s not related to the present issue. The people in Church Walk aren¡¯t going to feel safe if the presence of your boys causes a series of violent assassination attempts. Tell them to stop wearing white and blend in. They won¡¯t be able to identify you if you do that.¡±

    ¡°This is a matter of pride.¡±

    ¡°What is more valuable to you? Their lives, or their pride? They are not going to refuse an order from you without good cause, but this might qualify as that. You should get ahead of the discontent and let them protect themselves.¡±

    Robert hated it when others second-guessed his orders. Marco was one of the few men he associated with who was so willing to openly contest what he was saying. In short, he was not a man who valued the input of others, even his friends, family, and high-ranking officers within the gang. Robert believed that he¡¯d never once made the wrong call. Why would his hunch lead him astray this time?

    ¡°They¡¯re trying to push us underground. That¡¯s what they want, and I¡¯m not going to give in. We disappear from the streets and suddenly everyone thinks that there¡¯s nobody watching their backs, they¡¯ll sell on, and suddenly the entire bloody neighbourhood will be up for demolition so they can build some fancy estates on it.¡±

    Marco pegged the last piece of clothing onto the line to dry and picked up the wicker basket that rested by his feet.

    ¡°The locals know who you are already. Taking off your gang symbols is not going to make them wonder where you¡¯ve disappeared. Didn¡¯t you say you liked being a larger-than-life man before?¡±

    That was more amenable to Robert¡¯s perspective, ¡°Yeah ¨C I guess you¡¯re right.¡±

    ¡°And these assassins, whatever you want to call them, can¡¯t possibly be as familiar with you and the rest as the residents are. If you are so concerned with ¡®protecting¡¯ Church Walk, then there is no need to compromise. You can go low profile, find the attackers, and then handle it as you see fit.¡±

    This was all disconnected from the reason why Robert was there. He wanted a clear answer from Marco about what it would take to get him to attend the meeting later that day.

    ¡°Listen ¨C I know how you work, I know that you¡¯re a professional. If it¡¯s the money that¡¯s the problem, then I¡¯ll pay you up-front and then give you a cut of what we take from the meeting.¡±

    ¡°So, you intend to take it and do nothing?¡±

    ¡°What are they gonna¡¯ do? Tell the police that they screwed up trying to bribe the local gang?¡± Robert laughed.

    ¡°Worse, given that they might be related to the attacks that have been happening around here over the past week.¡±

    Robert wasn¡¯t listening to Marco¡¯s well-reasoned objections. His greed was blinding him to the risks inherent with marking himself as an unreliable negotiating partner. It would have consequences far beyond what Robert was assuming. If he ever needed to speak with another gang again it could pose a serious obstacle.

    Robert wanted revenge but he couldn¡¯t get it by killing the assassins who were running riot in Church Walk. They were too strong and too elusive for an unwashed mass of local criminals to take down. Thus, he was trying to target the next best thing. He wanted to steal the money without making any concessions.

    Marco thought it was stupid. The property developers and nobles who were plotting to remake Church Walk had enough money to happily lose some in search of the result they wanted. Losing some bribe money was no skin off their teeth ¨C and they could get it back in a more violent way if they were truly desperate.

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to bodyguard my boys. Ideally, they won¡¯t even know that you¡¯re there. I want you to keep an eye on things and step in if they try any funny business. You¡¯re the best gun this side of the country. I¡¯ll feel a lot safer seeing you go with ¡®em.¡±

    Marco was a difficult man to convince. Gang work was always hit-and-miss, with a lot of personalities in the industry seeing hired guns like Marco as disposable tools that they were free to scam at the first opportunity. In a zero-trust environment, it was important to be the one with a finger on the trigger. They never lasted very long after angering him.

    In his favour, Robert was a known quantity. He¡¯d be in charge of the Church Street crew for two decades. He made no secret about his leadership role or his presence in the area. It was going to be difficult for him to cheat Marco and get away with it. That would demand either killing him on the job or packing his stuff and running to the other side of Walser before he found out.

    The last consideration was the level of risk associated with the job. If there were any more of those mages around, then he could easily end up out of pocket by the sheer amount of ammunition needed to kill one of them. Marco doubted his ability to defend the gang members should they appear. They could blow them to hell and back with their magic before he could do anything to stop them.

    ¡°I can check out the meeting area for you, but I can¡¯t guarantee that I can stop one of those maniacs from attacking. I shot two magazines into his chest and he kept moving. I shudder to think what would happen if there were more of them.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t going to be cheap, and Marco expected Robert to reject his price.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take it. I¡¯ll put up enough to get you running security, and then you can take a cut of the cash that they bring with them.¡±

    They returned to the house and hashed out the other details. Robert was actually willing to pay the bill, which was a pleasant development for Marco. All Robert needed to do was rustle up the money and come back with it before the meeting time arrived. They shook on it, and Marco started to consider his best options when it came to countering this new threat.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    <hr>

    The complete bust of my previous visit to the city was not enough to deter me. I made a second trip to Gertrude¡¯s hideaway and pressed her for details about the Church Street gang, most notably all of the places where they liked to host meetings and do business. The one that she stated with certainty was a local pub named ¡®The Red Half-Hawk.¡¯

    The owner had deep connections with the gang, allowing them to drink at the pub unmolested. There was a back area of the building that was reserved for gang members and other criminal elements. They tried to keep it above board and the police away, but it was an open secret that it was utilised by the Walkers to strike deals.

    I couldn¡¯t exactly waltz into the pub and bust the case wide open. It was in enemy territory, and they¡¯d turn me away at the door for being a thirteen-year-old girl. The other pressing matter was the timing.

    Thankfully Max arrived to save the day with another letter. He¡¯d been asking his brother about the process with some consistency, and he was more than happy to spill all kinds of sensitive details to him in exchange for the scant curiosity. There was an investor¡¯s meeting coming up. Cedric wanted to see movement by then.

    With all of these factors, and some others, considered ¨C it was obvious that our best shot of interfering with Cedric¡¯s machinations was today. It was the most likely moment in which they would attempt to reach an agreement with the Church Street gang so that he could deliver the good news to his investors the following day.

    This timeline was fairly insane from where I was standing. Cedric was rushing through this like a man possessed. What was he going to say at that meeting if things didn¡¯t go his way? I was more than likely going to find out because Muwah wanted to bring Max along as his plus one. If not, he was going to tell him all about it when he returned to the estate.

    Speaking of plus ones, Adrian insisted on coming with me. We sat and waited in the carriage whilst the city moved around us. I had a plan. We were parked close to the Red Half-Hawk, and it would be easy to spot a group of gang members going through the front door.

    Adrian was tense, not only because of the circumstances but also because he was alone with me for more than ten minutes. This was the longest we¡¯d ever enjoyed one another¡¯s company, despite being acquainted for over half a year. Adrian could be crabby and ill-mannered so he wasn¡¯t experienced in making small talk. To make it more difficult, he didn¡¯t understand what type of subject I¡¯d be interested in.

    ¡°Are you sure this is the place?¡±

    ¡°No, but it is the only lead I have at the moment. Allegedly the gang uses this pub all the time. If we see them making special preparations for the meeting then we can be certain that the man with the money is going to come this way.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t going to be Cedric or even one of the people on his payroll, so we couldn¡¯t use that to determine if we were in the right place. The gang members were the key.

    ¡°Goddess knows where you learned to do all of this,¡± Adrian muttered.

    ¡°Experience is valuable, though a little bit of common sense can go a long way.¡±

    ¡°This is more than common sense. You¡¯re like a professional.¡±

    ¡°Hardly.¡±

    There was a brief silence. His mind wandered to another topic; ¡°What is it that you want?¡±

    ¡°What I want?¡± I echoed, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Adrian crossed his arms, ¡°Samantha has her Doctor thing, Claude wants to be a policeman ¨C but I¡¯ve never understood you. You don¡¯t seem at all interested in inheriting your family¡¯s empire and running it. I was amazed when I found out that you don¡¯t have any siblings.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to take over. That¡¯s a given. My Father isn¡¯t interested in having any more children.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure your Mother didn¡¯t castrate him on the way out?¡± he replied irreverently. I almost forgot that he and the others saw me get into a violent fistfight with her.

    ¡°I can neither confirm nor deny that theory.¡±

    The truthful answer was too morbid for me to share.

    I was always acting under the impression that this arrangement was temporary. I was a bad, bad man. I killed a lot of people just to enrich myself. I saw it as a day job, like how someone spends years of their life going through the same routine working at a supermarket or office. There was no dancing around it, no neat and convenient excuse. Even my self-imposed rules were an exercise in stroking my own ego.

    This was temporary. In what universe was Durandia going to keep me around once I¡¯d outlived my usefulness? That would be an utterly insane idea. Durandia was acting in the interest of protecting the people in the world she controlled. I was only ever going to harm others once our arrangement ended.

    How it would pan out was a mystery. Durandia indicated that there was never a real ¡®person¡¯ occupying this body before me, for want of avoiding a situation where she essentially killed someone by bringing me over. She must have been controlling it until I arrived.

    Making plans for a future that I was certain would never come would be foolish. Not only had I not earned the right, but my natural pessimism prevented me from considering it. My sole focus was navigating the increasingly difficult obstacles placed in front of me. I was trying to preserve my own life, and the lives of the important people around me.

    Adrian didn¡¯t buy it. Whether through newly found emotional intelligence or his usual stubborn attitude, he didn¡¯t believe a word I said.

    ¡°You don¡¯t sound too excited about the prospect.¡±

    ¡°Why would I be? You would be hard-pressed to find anyone our age who could be excited by the thought of spending the rest of their lives handling paperwork and investment meetings.¡±

    ¡°And is that why you do all of these crazy things? Must be more exciting than handling that.¡±

    I stared at him like he¡¯d grown a second head. There was nothing fun or exciting about it. It took all of my composure not to lose my cool and break down as a nervous wreck after each incident. If circumstances were slightly different I¡¯d be crying myself to sleep every night. The stress was incredible, even more so now that I was burdened with the task of keeping someone alive.

    ¡°You asked for my help. Don¡¯t get cold feet now.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m trying to say,¡± Adrian scoffed, ¡°I¡¯m curious.¡±

    He was picking my brain because he didn¡¯t know what he wanted to do either. He was already in charge of a large business empire, but it was obvious that he didn¡¯t enjoy it or find it fulfilling. In the face of that ¨C what else was there to do but put everything on autopilot and find another task to occupy your time with?

    ¡°If you¡¯re so concerned about making something of your life, then perhaps you could start by exploring charity?¡±

    ¡°Charity?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. With your money and influence, you could do much for the public good, and you will be remembered fondly for it at that.¡±

    ¡°That seems quite self-serving,¡± he observed.

    ¡°The problem is that most people spend their entire lives working for the sake of living. They have bills to pay, food and clothes to worry about, and children to raise and educate. For someone with a regular job ¨C that demands what small amount of spare time they possess. I needn¡¯t tell you that our contemporaries thus spend their days in leisure.¡±

    ¡°Being a Doctor sounds more respectable than throwing my money around.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, but a Doctor doesn¡¯t get paid enough to do that. Did Cedric make an offer for all of the family businesses yet?¡±

    ¡°No. He¡¯s holding off for the time being.¡±

    The conversation wilted to a stop. Adrian had to give what I said some thought. He needed to find a hobby or field that he was passionate about. That wasn¡¯t the kind of problem that I could fix for him by offering suggestions. He didn¡¯t want it to be a vanity project either ¨C he wanted to be driven to do it with his own two hands.

    We¡¯d been waiting across the road for around an hour. I was watching the pub, not even peeling my attention away when Adrian asked me a question. My patience was eventually rewarded as a large group of washrags emerged from around the corner and approached the building. Despite the clear attempts on their life, none of them saw fit to remove the distinctive clothing that marked them as members.

    What distinguished this group from any other was the person tagging along with them. It was another familiar face, though this one was less affable than Veronica. It was Marco Fisichella ¨C the hired gun who Lady Rentree brought on to advance her monarchist ambitions.

    ¡°I think that¡¯s them,¡± I said.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°That is Marco Fisichella. The only reason he¡¯d be with those gang members is if they paid him to be.¡±

    True to form he quickly launched into an investigation of the area that surrounded the pub. He checked each of the windows, both from the building itself and the surrounding ones that could provide a convenient sniper¡¯s perch. He dipped into the alleyway and made sure that it was a dead end. He tested the doors too.

    ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡±

    ¡°He is performing security checks. It looks like this is the place.¡±

    These gang members were creatures of habit. If Cedric asked them to pick a place of their choosing, it was perhaps inevitable that they¡¯d select their favourite hole-in-the-wall to serve as the venue. They could do the job and then get smashed on beer afterwards.

    The more I observed Marco scouting the premises, the more I was convinced. The meeting was going to happen here in the coming hours. He presumably wanted to get an early start and fool-proof the place so nothing funny happened. Sadly for him, I wasn¡¯t intent on making trouble inside of the pub. It was going to happen on the pavement out front.

    This was a smash-and-grab operation. I would have preferred to have taken the time to plan, but there was no time for that. I¡¯d have to let Durandia take the wheel and hope that I could get away with it. As for why I decided to steal the money, that was less concrete. I was taking the approach of shaking the tree and seeing what fell out.

    It was callous of me to say, but I was not invested in the outcome of this real estate battle beyond what it meant for my investigation into what Cedric was up to. It also seemed that I¡¯d stumbled across the next nation-destroying threat in the process. All of the signs were pointing in one direction.

    I kept my head hidden behind the velvet curtain and hoped that Marco would pay our carriage no mind. It was not unusual to see them parked at the side of the street or in side-lots made specifically for them. The pub straddled the line between the rough part of town and the nicer areas, so there was nothing suspicious about one being there.

    Satisfied that there were no imminent security risks to the meeting, Marco headed back to the door and moved inside to continue.

    ¡°The gang must have paid him to guard them during the meeting. Those attacks must have scared whoever is in charge.¡±

    ¡°When exactly did you meet this bloke?¡± Adrian asked.

    ¡°He tried to murder my Uncle a few months ago.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s jaw dropped, ¡°He did what?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story. All you need to know is that he¡¯s bad news.¡±

    I reached into my pocket and checked to make sure that I had everything I needed to steal the money when the time came. I was already wearing some low-profile clothes to blend in. I also had a mask and my pistol, which I hoped I wouldn¡¯t have to use.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to stay out of his line of sight. I want to intercept Cedric¡¯s envoy before they reach the tavern to avoid any of the trouble.¡±

    ¡°Where are they going to come from?¡±

    That was a good question. My distance from the building would determine the level of risk I shouldered. If I were closer I could cover both approaches, but it might expose me to Marco and the gang members should they hear the commotion and come running. I suspected that they would be travelling from the more affluent area of the city by using one of the main avenues nearby.

    ¡°The right. It¡¯s the richer district, and if they¡¯re transporting the money from a bank, or from out of the city, they would have to move from that direction.¡±

    I could post up there and snatch whatever they were carrying, before slipping away through the nearby street and letting my legs do the work. My chase with Kelly the day before had given me some devious ideas about how to get away from them.

    ¡°Do you want me to do something?¡±

    I tightened the laces on my boots and tried to think of a job for Adrian to handle.

    ¡°No. Keep an eye on the carriage.¡±

    Adrian tried to protest, but I was already out of the door and on the ground. The window of opportunity to dismount without being witnessed had come right as he attempted to pull me back.

    I kept my fingers crossed and hoped that I was correct.

 Chapter 121

    Adrian, for his part, kept away from me while I cased the street. I spotted Marco sticking his head out of the pub once or twice to make sure that things were still as he left them, before promptly moving back inside. I made sure not to give him any reason to investigate what was going on outside.

    I found a good spot to hide in wait for the men carrying the cash, or whatever else they intended to use as a bribe. It was unlikely that anyone too important was going to show their face at the meeting. Cedric and Robert Van Gervan would be stupid to put themselves out in the open with a zero-trust relationship.

    Robert was worried about the people who¡¯d been attacking his gang members over the past week. There were two publicly known incidents and one that only I and Kelly were witness to. All three of the attackers used powerful magic abilities that would have killed any less than a grade-five mage.

    Grade fives were already exceptionally rare. The academy was overjoyed to find that two of them were attending the magic elective, so to have three of them working under a single banner suggested that something more sinister was going on. Either they had carefully cultivated a group of loyal grade-five mages to do their bidding, or they¡¯d discovered a method by which they could essentially create them from thin air.

    That was troublesome. Grade five mages were the primary concern when the registry was first introduced. The destructive power that a single person could wield and unleash without warning was too much for the government to ignore any longer. With political radicalism and participation making a meteoric rise, controlling the public mood was more important than ever.

    The straw that broke the camel¡¯s back was the Gladstone Bridge incident. It was an important trade route along a coastal road. The low-lying marshland there was difficult to cross, so a series of long bridges were constructed to make travel easier. They were considered engineering marvels, utilising the latest materials and construction techniques to leap across huge, previously unmatched distances.

    Gladstone Bridge was further along the coast. After an incident wherein a member of the Walser Socialist Party was attacked by an MP from the Southern Conservatives, a party supporter took matters into their own hands and decided to try and hit them where it hurt. He snuck beneath one of the brick support pillars and destroyed it with a powerful magical blast, causing the entire strut to buckle and give way. Luckily it was done late at night and nobody was hurt.

    There was a long debate over how to address incidents such as those. Some MPs pushed for the Socialist Party to be disbanded and outlawed, but most of the other parties considered carefully what kind of precedent that would set and moved for a more general approach.

    Mages weren¡¯t a protected class to be frank ¨C which meant they served as a convenient collective scapegoat for the political violence that led to the bridge attack in the first place. There was never any chance of the MPs reflecting on their own behaviour and seeing what type of message it sent to the party supporters. They went for the quickest and easier option instead.

    Make a big list with all known mages, containing their names, ages, appearances and grades. It was the singular government database of that type. It was an unparalleled experiment in government recordkeeping and surveillance. While many would naturally slip through the cracks over time, the ones who sought true, potentially dangerous knowledge about magic from the institutions would be forced to register.

    WISA were likely tearing their hair out over it. All that work and the registry were useless when it was needed the most. All of a sudden finding a way to make a mage out of a regular person sounded like a power that some in government and high society would covet. If they were under your employ you could make a private army and they would be none the wiser.

    Activity finally caught my attention. I poked my head out from my hiding place and spotted a small group of people rounding the corner and approaching my location. Given the quality of their dress and the conspicuous leather bag that one of them was holding, it was a foregone conclusion that they were the negotiators I was waiting for.

    Much to my irritation ¨C the bagman wasn¡¯t alone. There were two other men with him, who I had to assume were armed and ready to shoot should a threat present itself. None of the three men were ones I recognized, and Cedric himself wasn¡¯t going to delve in and get his hands dirty.

    What I could see was the form of what was inside of the brown leather the bagman was carrying with him. I knew a bag filled with cash when I saw it. Surely it wouldn¡¯t come as a surprise if an enterprising thief were to swoop in and take it from them in such a crime-ridden area of the city.

    I lurked in wait. There was no time for me to take a strategic approach, which meant that hitting them fast was the preferable option. I pulled the mask over my face and concealed my identity. I tuned out the noise and prepared to dash between them. My heart froze as they crossed the boundary and came into plain view from between the brick walls.

    I ran into the fray. The man in the middle was my target.

    I reached out and grabbed the bag¡¯s strap and resolved to not let it go no matter what happened. The man holding it was shocked by the sudden appearance of a masked person who was no less than three heads shorter than him. By the time he figured out what was going on it was too late to engage in a game of tug-of-war with me. The strap was already loosened from his shoulder, and with a firm yank, it slipped from his fingers and into my arms.

    I staggered back into the wall behind us and turned to run away. I slipped beneath a pair of outstretched arms and moved through the alleyway as quickly as I could, hampered by the short length of my legs.

    The bag was definitely filled with money. The thick bundles of notes were both solid and liquid, shifting between the grip of my hands and making it difficult to keep a hold of under duress. These guys were seriously stupid if they thought bringing a physical bag filled with cash on a first meeting was a sound idea. Even if I wasn¡¯t around to steal it ¨C then the gang members would have helped themselves in the same way.

    ¡°Stop her! She¡¯s getting away with the bag!¡±

    I could hear their feet splashing through the puddles that had been left in the cracked stonework. They were close and getting closer. I¡¯d have to rely on some strategies lifted from my thief friend if I wanted to get away with my ill-gotten gains. The first trick was to keep them guessing. The city was filled with different pathways and routes, and also groups of people using the sidewalk who could act as obstacles for pursuers. I approached the left side of the pathway but juked right and dodged one of their attempts to grab the back of my shirt.

    It seemed that using their weapons wasn¡¯t on the cards. They still wanted to make the meeting without causing any fuss, and nothing would slow them down quite like having to answer questions when the police came knocking. They were faster than me ¨C but it was unlikely that they could keep up the pace should the chase go long.

    I intended to lose them before stamina ever became a factor.

    I weaved through groups of people on the sidewalk, using my smaller size to get through gaps that they had to avoid. One of them tried to run in the street¡¯s gutter to avoid them but almost got wiped out by a moving carriage in the process. I could hear the driver yelling at him over my deep breaths.

    The rain-covered ground made every step treacherous. I was the only one wearing footwear suitable for the weather. I ducked another attempt to restrain me from behind, and the pursuer slipped on the cobblestone and went sliding off of the curb and into a puddle on the road.

    ¡°Stop her! Stop that girl!¡±

    His pleas for the bystanders to step in fell on deaf ears. Nobody was going to risk hurting themselves playing the hero to stop someone they would assume was merely a pickpocket. Pickpockets were a common sight, dime a dozen, and they knew that catching one didn¡¯t get them off of the streets. They¡¯d be out of jail and working the same block again by the next day.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    I kept running. My legs were starting to burn, but the balance of power between our stamina levels was starting to become evident. They couldn¡¯t keep going at this pace for much longer and I was starting to pull away. Happy that I¡¯d made a large enough gap between us, I headed down the same alleyway that Kelly used and leapt over the fence.

    The two still on my tail ran to the fence and tried in vain to get over it, but I was already out of the other end and on my merry way before they could even think about grabbing something to boost them over. I didn¡¯t slow down. I maintained the same speed until I was absolutely certain that they couldn¡¯t follow.

    My last stop was a courtyard that I¡¯d picked out. It was through a narrow arched passage that allowed horses and carts to move across the block. Just when I thought I was home free ¨C a silhouetted figure stepped out in front of me and blocked my way. I came to a sudden stop with the bag still clutched to my chest.

    It was Marco.

    Somehow, he had followed me. I had no idea how he managed that. They made a lot of noise about a thief running away with their valuables, but was that enough to pull Marco away from his post to see what was going on? He looked very cross with me.

    ¡°Enough of these games. I take it that the bag has our money in it?¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t your money until you claim it for yourself. How did you get here?¡±

    Marco shrugged, ¡°I knew you were going to run this way. You street urchins are all the same, learning the same routes, and using the same strategies. It makes it extremely predictable. I only had to wait here for you to break off from the chase.¡±

    He predicted that I¡¯d run all the way here from the pub. Marco was blocking the only way out. Back the way I came was occupied by the three men sent by Cedric.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I stepped out to get some fresh air ¨C and I heard the men we were supposed to meet crying out about a thief.¡±

    Marco paused, the gears in his brain ticking over as he came to recognize my voice.

    ¡°Wait a moment, don¡¯t tell me...¡±

    I laughed and pulled the mask up, revealing the culprit to him.

    ¡°You have to be kidding me,¡± he despaired, ¡°Maria Walston-Carter?¡±

    ¡°The one and only.¡±

    ¡°Is this about what happened with your Uncle?¡±

    ¡°While I do find that situation distasteful, I am not spiteful enough to go to this kind of effort for the sake of getting revenge. It is nothing more than a coincidence.¡±

    Marco didn¡¯t like speaking with me. My high-minded accent and choice of verbiage were a stark contrast to his street-wise persona. He was already getting wound up. I unclipped the top of the bag and checked the contents. It was stuffed to the top with more Walmark bills than I could count. There must have been at least a million.

    ¡°They weren¡¯t joking about the money, huh?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re quite serious about buying Van Gervan¡¯s loyalty. I¡¯ve been looking into a matter for a friend. I gathered a lot of interesting information, including about an attack that happened near Church Walk a few days ago, and that a certain someone gunned the attacker down and turned the body over to the police.¡±

    ¡°Evidently my friends have been speaking out of turn again.¡±

    ¡°You are a smart gentleman, so I¡¯m confident that you already understand what¡¯s going on here. These attacks are obviously connected to the Church Walk renewal project that the nobles won¡¯t shut up about.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. If that¡¯s the case, why is Cedric Roderro sending a big bag of money to Robert Van Gervan?¡±

    ¡°Cedric Roderro is a craven backstabber, but he has a low tolerance for risk. He¡¯s also the type of man to not become too invested in violent means. This is his last chance to avert any further violence in Church Walk.¡±

    Marco frowned, ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s conjecture. A conspiracy like this does not operate at the whim of a singular person. He is connected to monarchists in parliament and nobility. They don¡¯t like Church Walk, they support his effort to destroy it, but they also want to use him for their own purposes at the same time. Is he not the perfect man to throw beneath the churning wheels first? Too prideful to accept his own disposability.¡±

    Marco was ready for a fight. He didn¡¯t stick around at the estate for long enough to get a full picture of my abilities, but he could sense danger in the air from being around me. There were a lot of rumours going around about a woman with dark hair, red eyes and a pretty face. They were about my Mother, and that¡¯s why Marco was so confused before, but a little uncertainty only helped my cause.

    The problem was ¨C there was no benefit to fighting with Marco. I might have made a fool of him once before at the museum, but there are no guarantees in this life. I only wanted to make sure that Cedric couldn¡¯t advance his plans for the time being. I was stalling for time.

    ¡°If you were the one who killed Cedric¡¯s henchman, why are you taking money from him?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not. Someone else hired me to look after the meeting.¡±

    ¡°Robert Van Gervan.¡±

    Marco hadn¡¯t caught me namedropping his employer earlier. He had a resigned look as if to say ¡®of course you already know that.¡¯

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t on board with Robert¡¯s plan to steal the money, but knowing that Cedric may have had some part in almost killing me changes things. I wouldn¡¯t want to benefit him in any way.¡±

    ¡°He was going to steal it?¡±

    ¡°Aye. He was. Robert is as stubborn as a mule. He won¡¯t give up his perch on top of Church Walk without a fight, or a much better offer than this. He makes a lot of money from running the criminal underworld around this part of the city.¡±

    Then that was my out. I couldn¡¯t trust Marco or Robert to tell the truth, but he had opened a window of opportunity for me to get away with snatching the bag, whilst also advancing my other goals. Marco was now in the know about what was going on and that would change the way he behaved in my favour.

    I held out the bag.

    ¡°Go on. Take it.¡±

    He hesitated, expecting some type of cheap trick while he was approaching me. No horrible cheap shot awaited him. Marco took it from me and looked down at the money with a confused frown.

    ¡°You stole this, but now you¡¯re giving it back?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care one bit about the money. My only reason for taking it was to frustrate Cedric Roderro, if you¡¯re already planning on doing nothing in exchange for it then there¡¯s no reason for me to steal it. You can give it back at the meeting and varnish your credentials.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re insane. You can¡¯t trust a word I say.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s my decision to make. I have calculated the risk of giving you the money back, and it¡¯s better if you act in accordance with what I¡¯ve revealed here. Someone is trying to kill the criminal element in Church Walk, and that includes you. They¡¯re connected to Cedric Roderro.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m knee-deep in bullshit again,¡± Marco complained.

    ¡°An eloquent way to describe the situation. It can hardly be helped when such large quantities of money are changing hands. With money comes politics. They will be quick to use Cedric as a scapegoat should the need arise. He is being kept at arm¡¯s length for a reason.¡±

    ¡°Whatever. I¡¯m not working for you, Carter. This money was rightly owed to me by Robert.¡±

    ¡°Naturally.¡±

    But what I¡¯d said would linger in the back of his mind from now on. It was the same strategy that Durandia used to manipulate our behaviour after our visit to the Snow Museum. It was subtle and he might not even notice it, but it was there and affecting his behaviour. This was another way to kick the beehive and see what happened.

    Marco was unsure about walking away after what happened, as I would be, but there wasn¡¯t much left to say between us. I wasn¡¯t taking him to task for trying to murder my uncle. It was water under the bridge. He wanted to take the stalemate and get away with the cash as planned.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get you,¡± he concluded.

    ¡°And you never will. We never met, and this conversation never happened.¡±

    Marco had to get back to the bar. Now that he was aware of what the killers were trying to pull, it was obvious to him that a large gathering of gang members would make them the perfect target. He tucked the bag beneath his arm and ran past me to use the fastest possible route.

    I exhaled and tried to unwind the tension that had built up in my chest. There was no going back on that decision now. I could only cross my fingers and hope that my assessment of the positives and negatives was accurate. It was so rare that I got the opportunity to speak with other people while ¡®on the job.¡¯ My type of social engineering relied on avoiding verbal contact with others. Negotiation was never an option.

    With the outcome settled for the time being I set about stripping away the outer layer of my disguise. I removed the mask and the shirt, stuffing them into a bag that I had placed nearby for my escape plan. It was going to be impossible to spot me in a crowd now, if they were even still searching for me with Marco recovering the money.

    It was a coin flip. I already felt the sting of regret from making a hasty decision and giving the bag back. I could have kept the money and tried to get away from Marco, but seeding uncertainty in his mind about what was going on in Church Walk seemed like the better option when it came to unsettling Cedric.

    I frowned and started the walk of shame back to the carriage, which was still parked in the same location as I¡¯d left it. Adrian was watching through the window with a face twisted by anxiety.

    ¡°Are you alright? They looked really angry with you.¡±

    I laughed it off, ¡°They never got close to catching me. Did they come back with the bag?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I saw them walking through the front door with it.¡±

    I sat back on the bench seat and watched closely for any signs of movement from inside. The meeting lasted for a sum total of twenty minutes, at which point a group of disgruntled-looking negotiators hurried out of the pub and powdered their way down the street. It didn¡¯t go well.

    ¡°They stole the money,¡± I said.

    ¡°What? So my Uncle is out of luck?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s out of character ¨C but he offered that cash to try and stop any more bloodshed from happening on his behalf. Those attacks have already outraged the people in charge of the gang. He will not be able to smooth that over. An injury to their pride is not so easily healed with money.¡±

    And if they decided that letting go of their home turf lost more than they would gain...

    ¡°Typical. I bet he lowballed them. Why did you give the money up?¡±

    ¡°This is better for us,¡± I lied, ¡°I managed to share some information with one of the men who chased me, and it was all resolved peacefully.¡±

    ¡°If you say so.¡±

    I knocked on the wooden panel behind my head to signal the driver.

    ¡°That¡¯s all we can do for the time being. Let¡¯s see how tomorrow¡¯s meeting develops.¡±

    Adrian sighed and we left the scene of the crime with mixed results.

 Chapter 122

    Cedric Roderro could feel the vultures circling overhead.

    If not the monarchists who delighted in taking an overly violent approach to property development, then surely it was the large group of men and women who had invested a huge portion of their respective assets into acquiring land in Church Walk in the hopes of redeveloping the district and making off like bandits.

    His attempts to bribe Robert Van Gervan were a tremendous failure. Not only did his envoys refuse to follow the terms of the deal, but they also added insult to injury by stealing the first deposit they intended to use to show they were being serious about it. That was what he got for trusting a lowly criminal to show his good sense.

    He was so full of piss and vinegar when he came up with that one, and now it had blown up in his face. Robert Van Gervan scorned him, and now he was forced to face down his angry investors with the bad news. Their patience was starting to run out. They could choose to sell their property and eat the loss whenever they felt like it.

    Part of him wanted to cancel the meeting and deal with the fallout later. Cedric stewed in a sense of helplessness in his work office for several hours that day, from the early morning to the late afternoon. He spent most of it trying to summon forth good excuses to explain why the development plan wasn¡¯t moving forward.

    The walk to the meeting room felt like a march to the gallows. They would have loved to see him with a rope noose tied around his neck. He held no small resentment for them. Cedric was a firm believer that everyone in the nobility hated one another as much as he hated them. It was warfare without weapons.

    A large group of around forty people assembled in the meeting room at his city-based office. The air in the room was sucked out all at once. Was it out of respect for his frustration, or apprehension at the risk to their wealth? At the head of the table with him was Sebtland Burton and Concetta Van Walser.

    Cedric was not in the mood for the ceremony. He sat in his seat and clapped his hands together.

    ¡°Let us not belabour the point of this meeting today. I appreciate you all finding the time out of your busy schedules to be here.¡±

    He scanned the room and took in the forlorn faces of his fellow nobles, his fellow passengers on the sinking ship now entitled the Church Walk Project. He recognized most of them, though Muwah Abdah was skulking by the window with a young lad who looked much the same as he did. Cedric had never seen him before.

    ¡°Mister Blackford ¨C would you like to start us off?¡±

    Emerson Blackford was one of the key members of the scheme. His construction company was the largest on the East side of Walser. They were lined up to handle the demanding task of demolishing the old Church Walk and building the new in its place.

    ¡°I take it that by your ceding the floor to me, there¡¯s been no progress on obtaining the rest of the properties?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡±

    ¡°You told me that these protest groups wouldn¡¯t be a problem. What changed since then?¡±

    Cedric rolled out his pre-vetted lie; ¡°I said that under a mistaken belief that they would remain unorganized and incongruent. But it seems that some of the intelligentsia have rallied around the cause, and are now pushing the city council to protect the historic buildings in Church Walk.¡±

    ¡°Historic? Those buildings can barely stand on themselves! Where was this outpouring of concern when the city was allowing the entire district to fall into a state of squalor? Make no mistake Cedric, their only goal is to frustrate the betterment of this city at the hands of the nobility. It cuts against their ideology.¡±

    ¡°I know that very well. There is also the developing issue of the violence in the area. It has created a large amount of uncertainty about when the police will get it under control. I think we can all agree that the police should spare no effort in catching those responsible.¡±

    There was a quiet murmur of agreement from the gathered investors.

    ¡°I¡¯ve continued to pursue a wide-reaching acquisition effort even in the face of these challenges.¡±

    Blackford tugged on the cuff of his jacket, an odd habit of his.

    ¡°Have you considered using alternate methods to convince them to sell?¡±

    Cedric smiled; ¡°We¡¯ve tried a lot of things. Of course, we¡¯re all law-abiding nobles here ¨C and we¡¯d never dream of using underhanded or illegal methods to deprive these people of their property.¡±

    ¡°Naturally,¡± Blackford agreed. Both he and Cedric knew that they were talking complete rubbish. Blackford was as ruthless as they came in the industry. He coerced, he threatened, and he used high-pressure tactics to get what he wanted. The ends always justified the means.

    ¡°Putting aside protests to the council, the number one concern in my mind are those individuals who feel that selling is simply not an option. Either due to their long history in the area, or their connection to the factories nearby, we have to do what we can to show them that we¡¯re offering them a life-changing deal. A chance to get away from an extremely deprived area and start fresh somewhere new.¡±

    ¡°And the money?¡±

    ¡°The money is not the sticking point. If they¡¯re not willing to accept our generous offer now, then there must be other factors that are keeping them from moving away.¡±

    At the other end of the room, Maxwell was whispering to Muwah.

    ¡°Is this how all of these meetings go?¡±

    ¡°I told you it wouldn¡¯t be exciting.¡±

    ¡°No, I knew it¡¯d be boring. I mean does Cedric always get piled on by all of the investors? How long has this been going on for?¡±

    ¡°A few weeks now. Some of them are less patient than others because they have mortgages on those buildings. Every day that goes by without development work means they have to pay the interest on them.¡±

    ¡°But Cedric is the one in charge of the project.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t trust him to hold the deeds for them. They coordinated to buy it all up, but they want to keep the keys until they¡¯re sure they can make a profit. He warned them about that before we started.¡±

    Max shook his head. This was the guy trying to kill his own nephew? Muwah stressed that these problems were normal for any large-scale project, but Maxwell didn¡¯t buy it. The violence that had started occurring in the area was almost too coincidental for him to ignore. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to get entangled in Cedric¡¯s criminality.

    But convincing him to divest from Cedric¡¯s plan was going to be tough without revealing a lot of what he learned from Maria. He wasn¡¯t going to take him at his word without a good reason, brothers or not.

    The next investor to speak was not so reserved with their criticism.

    ¡°Why are you troubling yourself with the meaningless words of the rabble? Let us simply proceed with the planned construction and make it clear to all that we intend to rejuvenate this area of the city, with or without them. They¡¯ll change their minds about selling on soon enough!¡±

    ¡°Mister Greene, I insist...¡±

    <hr>

    ...Maxwell finished recollecting what he saw at the meeting to us.

    I whistled, ¡°They weren¡¯t happy with Cedric.¡±

    ¡°They were not. Tempers flared even more when he revealed that his attempts to solve the gang problem were fruitless. He claimed that he wanted to see a diplomatic solution, but they refused to listen to what his envoys said.¡±

    ¡°The longer they sit on the land they own, the more they have to pay in taxes and interest, and the more entrenched the opposition to the scheme becomes. There may be a tipping point where the potential risk outweighs the profit they will make. An exodus of investors like that would kill the project on the spot.¡±

    Adrian was holding his head in his hands, ¡°How is that supposed to help us get to the bottom of whether he leaked that information to the monarchists?¡±

    ¡°Cedric seemingly asked for help from someone. I can¡¯t say for certain that it is the monarchists at the moment, but if we¡¯re able to draw a connection between the strange goings-on in Church Walk, the monarchists, and his business venture there, then it will be a compelling case for his involvement in the prior incident.¡±

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°What type of help?¡± Max inquired.

    ¡°They have mercenaries wandering the area and killing any criminals they can find, preferably in large groups when they gather for one reason or another. There have been two attacks in the past week alone.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect him to resort to murder,¡± Max mumbled.

    ¡°He might not have a choice in the matter. He made an unwise bargain with someone who has no qualms about using violence directly. I believe that the violence in itself is their payment for helping the development plan.¡±

    Adrian wasn¡¯t happy about any of this, but when was he ever? We sat there and stewed on our new information for some time. I tried to break the ice by moving on to a new subject.

    ¡°How organized are these historical groups anyway? I heard some talk about them ¨C but haven¡¯t seen any evidence of them campaigning yet.¡±

    ¡°They have some businessmen and nobles backing them up, though they were on the backfoot because they only got together recently in response to the development plans.¡±

    ¡°Typical.¡±

    ¡°What the investor said about them getting in the way, do you agree with them?¡±

    ¡°In part. People never care about preserving things until they¡¯re under threat, but those buildings do have important historical value. They¡¯d regret destroying them in the end. Imagine if they¡¯re around for two hundred more years. People would visit this city just to see them.¡±

    Even the heyday of organized religion was starting to approach a state where nobody had experience with it. Only the oldest people in the world could truthfully recall a time when the churches held sway over such a huge number of Walser¡¯s population. Those chapels were already historic, and they would continue to be long into the future.

    They could also contain hidden artefacts - or buried bodies that were chosen to rest in holy ground. A treasure trove of valuable information that future historians would kill to get their hands on. Even the architecture they used was unique and unseen in any modern developments.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Why would they sit and wait until Cedric starts throwing his weight around?¡±

    ¡°There are a lot of reasons. Some might believe that there is no threat to the area¡¯s existence, or that it doesn¡¯t need regular care, others might see it as an opportunity to raise their profile or spurn the nobility. There is little value in trying to guess in the dark about their motivations though, what¡¯s important is what they intend to do.¡±

    Adrian had his say soon after.

    ¡°Cedric wants to erase all of the work that other people put into Church Walk. He wants to wipe it all clean and leave his own scar in its place. That¡¯s all he cares about, having his name put into the history books.¡±

    ¡°If he thinks that people will look back kindly on him for damaging the character of the city in pursuit of profit, he is sorely mistaken.¡±

    ¡°He cares. He really cares. He thinks that being seen as a great person, a kind person, is the best way to cement his legacy. Look at what his kindness is behind all the bluster. Stepping on toes. More blood spilt over into the nearest gutter.¡±

    The mood around the table turned dark. Even Maxwell was starting to look a little perturbed by the direction of the conversation as it was. There was clearly more to his involvement in this than I first assumed. Adrian slammed the table and jumped to his feet.

    ¡°It pisses me off! What the hell is he thinking? That arsehole¡¯s been giving my Father these tales about how torn up he is that Mum died, but now he¡¯s out here making some fresh tragedy for everyone else! It was all a bunch of bloody lies, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    I stood to meet his level and tried to cool his head, ¡°If you ask him, I¡¯m sure that he will insist that he¡¯s done nothing of the sort. He will find a way to dismiss his own hypocrisy and rationalize what you confront him with. We always make special exceptions for ourselves whilst condemning others for the same conduct.¡±

    ¡°I bet he did it. I bet he bloody did it. There¡¯s no way he wanted to pass up the opportunity. He¡¯s been trying to hint at buying the businesses from under me this whole time, but he can¡¯t make an offer with his money tied up by this. He wanted me to die to those cultists, that¡¯s why he leaked what the watch does to the monarchists.¡±

    If that was how he felt about the situation, then he had a difficult choice to make.

    ¡°Adrian, I can increase the pressure and target him directly if that¡¯s what you want, but you have to be ready for the consequences. This is not going to be resolved cleanly. Someone is going to end up in prison, or dead.¡±

    Adrian, who was still angry about everything, responded with his callousness on display; ¡°Better him than me.¡±

    Max stood up to join us, ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t say stuff like that so happily. Are you seriously going to do this because you think he¡¯s involved? You¡¯ll regret it in the end. He¡¯s family.¡±

    ¡°Family?¡± Adrian scoffed, ¡°He doesn¡¯t give that benefit to me! He¡¯ll happily plot and scheme behind the curtain, try to kill me off so he can be in charge. Some bloody family he is! Why the hell would I give him the same treatment?¡±

    I shook my head at Max and told him that it wasn¡¯t an argument worth enduring. Adrian had made up his mind. He was being driven into a paranoid fit, as he was right to, by the repeated attempts from Cedric to kill him or steal the businesses from under his nose. There was no debating him at a time like this.

    ¡°Would your uncle do something so foul?¡±

    I cut in, ¡°It¡¯s hard to accept ¨C but there are some people who don¡¯t value family in the slightest. There¡¯s a price attached to that kind of loyalty, and Cedric¡¯s threshold has been cleared.¡±

    Max couldn¡¯t understand it. His face twisted into a sour glare. He must have had a pretty good life at the estate if the mere thought of a family member stabbing him in the back caused such consternation.

    ¡°So what? You unleash... Maria onto him and hope it turns out alright?¡±

    I crossed my arms and looked to Adrian for his response. Perhaps he expected me to become offended by Maxwell describing me like some type of rabid dog because he was looking to see my reaction as well.

    ¡°What would you do?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a hired killer.¡±

    Not anymore at least.

    ¡°If you ask me what the best course of action is, I would still persist that finding evidence about his plot is the most tolerable outcome. You need not worry about the guilt of killing the man, it¡¯s better for everyone if the courts have their day and the full story is investigated in detail.¡±

    Adrian pulled back on his anger for a moment, ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that he¡¯s already stepped over the line. I¡¯m not going to die because I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Let¡¯s stop wasting time and take this seriously.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m happy to do that,¡± I responded, ¡°And you¡¯re right. Acting as if he is already confirmed as our opponent will speed up the process. I say we find out who he¡¯s working with and ensure that the entire house of cards collapses at once. When murder is involved ¨C one does not have to use a weapon to have blood on their hands.¡±

    With that matter settled, for the time being, I started planning for the next operation. It was time to figure out who the killers were and what their purpose was. I already had a good idea of where to look next.

    There was still a funeral to be held.

    <hr>

    Another day, another meeting in Frankfort¡¯s stuffy office. It smelt so strongly of paper that it reminded Veronica of a manufactory she visited for one of her other investigations. She¡¯d been up to her ankles in trouble, dealing with the aftermath of the previous attack outside of the morgue.

    Frankfort shuffled her papers and coughed into her palm.

    Veronica was forced to ask first; ¡°Did you look into what happened with the Horrcath¡¯s body?¡±

    Frankfort nodded, ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to tell you this, but yes. Your assertion appears to be correct. Someone has been tampering with the body and violating the protective order that has been implemented to keep it away from prying eyes.¡±

    ¡°They sneak into the chamber with a... syringe and take what they can?¡±

    Frankfort grimaced, ¡°As silly as it sounds ¨C that is exactly what happened. Multiple skin breaches were found where they drew blood samples from. A second assessment of the body concluded that a large quantity of internal fluid has been drained from the body. I thought they were too foolish to do something like this.¡±

    ¡°And that blood matches what was found in our dead suspect, and the one who got away after the morgue attack.¡±

    Frankfort was furious. She rarely showed her feelings openly, but the looming stench of death made everyone at the facility stand up and pay attention. It was a serious breach of protocol which could carry heavy consequences for anyone found to have been a part of it. They were looking at a life sentence, and that was before they became accessories to murder through the actions of their experimental subjects.

    Every single man and woman working the facility was rotated immediately and placed on administrative leave until they could figure out who was working with the enemy. It was meant to be under the military¡¯s jurisdiction, but Frankfort found a sympathetic officer in the ranks who did not approve of rule breakers.

    That ¨C or they no longer needed the body and the blood it contained. It was a worrying series of developments.

    ¡°The only way this could have happened is if they had operatives working at that facility. They¡¯re in on it.¡±

    ¡°They must think it¡¯s in the national interest. A way to shore up our defences.¡±

    ¡°It may yet be,¡± Frankfort conceded, ¡°But the outcome as it is now? They¡¯re nothing more than a group of maniacs spreading hysteria on the streets. These are the kinds of crimes that WISA was founded to prevent.¡±

    Frankfort would be damned to hell if she was going to let the army get one over on her. She hated them. They thought they owned the place and loved stepping on her toes just for the sake of asserting their position. A less professional group of men and women she could not name.

    She had zero faith in their ability to ¡®shape¡¯ this project into a constructive one. The fact that they were now being used as a means to attack civilians, criminal or not, demonstrated a lack of better judgment that chilled her to the core. They were making a personal army and selling them to the highest bidder. Even worse, they may have been working in collaboration with partisan outsiders to advance their chosen political campaign.

    Veronica shook her head; ¡°This is too delicate. We have multiple arms of the government fighting with each other. If this goes public, it¡¯ll be chaos.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s already chaos. We¡¯ve got military ministers trying to concoct their own idiotic development programs, political opportunists using the results to kill people in broad daylight, agents disappearing into thin air after running interference, and spies pilfering blood from the body of a demon so they can inject some poor misguided souls with it!¡±

    Veronica threw up her hands, ¡°What do you want me to do about it?¡±

    ¡°Whatever it takes. I¡¯m taking your leash off. I don¡¯t care what it is, or where it leads you, I want some good answers as soon as possible. I¡¯ll assign someone else to babysit the bloody morgue.¡±

    ¡°Of course. It would be helpful to have a copy of the report.¡±

    Frankfort smiled and handed it over, ¡°It¡¯s yours. Tell them that I gave you access, and to come and complain to me if they have a problem with it.¡±

    Nobody came to complain to Frankfort - she had a glare that could cut steel.

    Veronica bowed her head and stepped out of the office to gather her thoughts. The building was alight with movement from agents in all departments. That was how she knew the situation was degrading faster than they could handle. It would take bold action to crack open the case and figure out who was responsible for the killings.

    Luckily for Veronica, there was a perfect opportunity on the horizon to try and capture one of the criminals for interrogation. She only needed an extra pair of hands and some effective restraints.

 Chapter 123

    I¡¯d originally intended to come to Church Walk alone, but both Max and Adrian insisted on coming with me since I was doing this for their sake. So I was saddled with having to babysit both of them during the funeral as well. I had to make some quick preparations for the occasion.

    It was important that we concealed our identities while also blending into the crowd. Heavy coats, brimmed hats, and work boots. I looked like a child trying to sneak into an age-restricted area, but it did make it hard for people to see my face from above, which was advantageous given my short stature.

    ¡°Oh, and when we get there ¨C put this into your front pocket.¡±

    I handed them a pair of white handkerchiefs.

    Adrian was confused, ¡°What for?¡±

    ¡°Everyone at the funeral is going to be a gang member, or at least connected to one. They¡¯ll be asked to wear something white. If we wear these where they¡¯re visible the locals are less likely to give us a hard time.¡±

    They took them from me and stuffed them into their pockets, while I tied back my hair and made it look less well-kempt. I¡¯d also brought along enough ammunition to stop a small army. I hoped that I wouldn¡¯t have to use it. A crowded area like this meant the potential for collateral damage and being witnessed by a bystander in equal measure.

    With my tools in hand, my compatriots prepared and instructed on what to do, and the funeral precession beginning the journey from the morgue to the graveyard, we set out from the carriage and wandered towards Church Walk in a small group. Even on the outskirts of the district it was obvious that almost everyone in the area had come out to see the convoy move through the streets.

    And, true to my estimation, they were all wearing white ¨C either as a part of their outfit or through a small cloth folded neatly into a visible pocket. I signalled for Max and Adrian to do the same, though Adrian seemed to struggle with folding it neatly for a time.

    It was a cold, wet, windy and all-around miserable day ¨C perfect for a funeral. A gust of wind threatened to send a ripple through the crowd that assembled on the sidewalk. An occasional downpour of rain would drench anyone unlucky enough to have left their homes without a hood or hat.

    ¡°Do you think the police are here?¡± Maxwell whispered.

    ¡°Given what happened here the other day, I imagine they have disguised officers keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings.¡±

    It was difficult to find them amongst the huge group of onlookers that blocked both sides of the road. We stuck to the back and moved our way towards where the graveyard was located. The Church Walk graveyard was one of the largest around, and it stood on the site of an old chapel that was burnt to the ground during the war. Nothing was left of it aside from a few stone walls and some foundations.

    Perched atop the hill, it stood as one of the major geographical features in an area that had long since been swallowed by the growth of the urban sprawl. The crowd became even more intense the closer we got to the chapel.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know this many people lived in Church Walk,¡± Adrian muttered.

    ¡°It won¡¯t just be them. It¡¯ll be family and friends from across the city too.¡±

    The entire district was thrown into chaos. Hundreds and hundreds of people had crammed themselves into the narrow streets to pay their respects. The heavy spray of the rain kicked up into the air and inhibited visibility even more. Without police officers around to direct the crowds, they were pushing and shoving and flowing with the tide. It was a miracle that nobody had been crushed to death yet.

    It took a lot of patience to work our way through, we eventually broke out onto the other side of the graveyard behind a stone wall. This position didn¡¯t offer a good view of the convoy, so the other mourners ignored it. It served me perfectly well though. I could see the back entrance to the graveyard and up the pathway that wound across the hill.

    ¡°Let us take a moment to breathe.¡±

    Adrian and Maxwell made sure that everything was still in place. I tugged down on my hat to make sure it stayed on, even as the wind tried to snatch it away from my head.

    ¡°This is mental,¡± Adrian said, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen so many people in one place before.¡±

    ¡°Same. I didn¡¯t realize the gang held so much sway over people,¡± Max concurred.

    But I was far too distracted in crowd-watch to add my two cents to the discussion. The visitors had adopted a similar strategy to us, wearing heavy coats, hoods and hats that served to conceal their faces. It was going to be difficult to spot a potential assassin hiding in the crowd. There were a lot of places to hide, both physically and by utilizing the movement of the mourners.

    I turned my attention to the graveyard itself which was mostly unmolested by the swelling crowds. Only a few people were filtering their way towards the site of the burial, but my eyes were drawn to a peculiar pair of people loitering by one of the grand trees that hung over the area.

    The word left my mouth before I could stop myself.

    ¡°Shit.¡±

    The profanity alarmed Adrian, ¡°What? What are you saying that for?¡±

    ¡°My Mother¡¯s here.¡±

    I nodded towards them. She and another WISA agent were lurking by the tree. I recognized the coat she was wearing, and a brief glimpse at her face confirmed my worries. I pulled Adrian away before he blew our cover by staring for too long.

    ¡°Looks like we weren¡¯t the only ones to come up with this idea.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t she with the police?¡± Adrian asked.

    ¡°She works for WISA. They do not directly collaborate unless they have to.¡±

    ¡°She isn¡¯t going to beat your bloody head in again, is she?¡±

    ¡°I presume not. There¡¯s no reason for her to.¡±

    But it did pose a new set of problems for our decision to isolate one of the assassins. She was looking to do the same thing that we were, and that was a potential point of conflict. Veronica held the legal authority to do that. This was an above-board operation too, dressed under the fa?ade of catching a group of dangerous killers. She wouldn¡¯t let us off with a slap on the wrist if we got in her way.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at her. We¡¯re lucky she didn¡¯t spot us already,¡± I warned.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t she be better for catching these crooks?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Let us observe how the funeral goes first before rushing to any conclusions.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure of how ¡®on straight and narrow¡¯ Veronica was. She seemed to have few qualms about putting the Book of Cambry into the hands of some very dangerous people. Was she fully dedicated to her role as an officer of the law, or did that serve to insulate her so that she could work for a darker purpose?

    If she followed orders without questioning them ¨C then it was a possibility that capturing the culprit would result in no progress being made. This was an institutional conspiracy. People high up on the chain could snap their fingers and make those records disappear. They¡¯d never show up in court. Cedric could get away as clean as a whistle.

    Or, he could be chosen as the designated fall guy. He was not in control of what was happening here. He wanted the gang to clear the way through a negotiated settlement. Instead, he was forced to spin more plates and evade accountability from the police. There was no chance that they hadn¡¯t questioned him at least once in conjunction with their investigation. He had a clear motive.

    I kept an eye on them. Veronica was paying very close attention to the funeral itself, where three dozen high-level members of the Church Street Gang had assembled to pay their respects, including Robert Van Gervan himself. As craven as he was, not showing his face during a dangerous time like this would shatter his credibility with the other members.

    This was the perfect place for the monarchists to launch another attack, and it was obvious that the security agencies agreed with my assessment. Veronica watched the funeral area, whilst the stranger to her left scanned the rest of the yard and the back gate for any sign of potential attackers. I kept my head down and avoided making eye contact with him.

    ¡°Claude will kill me if he finds out we were doing stuff like this without him,¡± Max joked.

    ¡°How are we gonna¡¯ catch one of these blokes if the police are already here?¡±

    I brushed some of the water from the rim of my hat; ¡°For a gathering this big? They will send more than one man. We will have to pick our target wisely.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°She means that they¡¯re going to try and kill as many people as possible,¡± Max replied, ¡°Is that why you didn¡¯t want us to come?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°It¡¯s dangerous. Even if you are not directly in the line of fire, there is a high probability of being struck by a bullet. In a crowded place like this ¨C a rush of people trying to get away will kill many more through crushing.¡±

    That put both of them on edge. They¡¯d read plenty of stories in the news about such incidents in a variety of places and under different contexts; sports events, public unveilings gone wrong, horse races, technology expos and ship launches. Packing a crowd tight was a recipe for disaster.

    But there was no prospect of the gang and Robert listening to any warnings issued by the police. That was why any and all officers on site were in plain clothes, and why there was no organized crowd control on hand to direct people away from congested areas.

    A few minutes later and the procession from the morgue finally arrived. A lot of trouble had been caused by the police retaining their bodies for a few days, but it was unlikely that any of the gang members would recognize that their allegations were unfounded.

    A set of three horse-drawn carts arrived on the scene by the front gate. The wooden coffins were simple in construction, with unvarnished wood and iron handles. A group of fellow gang members unloaded each from their respective carriage and carried them up the path so they could be buried in the assigned spots. It was no easy task given the muddy ground and steep elevation.

    Each coffin was brought in turn to the graves and placed beside their final resting places. Funerals in this world were a little different to what I was used to. They were normally organized exclusively by the families, purchasing a plot from the landowner and commissioning their own headstones.

    As for the presiding religious figure ¨C that all depended on which interpretation of the faith they followed. Organized religion was not a big deal in Walser, and the denominations that did exist normally consisted of extremely local collectives of two to three chapels, with their own practices and values.

    In this case, the ceremony was being handled by their friends and family.

    Robert Van Gervan hobbled his way to the front and stood behind the coffins. One of his men unfurled an umbrella and held it over his head so that he could remove his hat as a sign of respect.

    ¡°Friends, family, comrades ¨C today we are here to mourn the passing of Andeu, Mark, Francis, Bradley, Wallace, Adam and John...¡±

    I tuned out the speech and focused on what mattered, the subtle movements of the crowd outside of the main gate, and the back entrance which had been so happily ignored by all present at the event. I recognized this. A murder at a funeral. I¡¯d done that before.

    Pretty callous of me, I had to admit.

    It was smart too. If you wanted to cause as many causalities from a specific group of men as possible, then you couldn¡¯t do better than a funeral. Robert¡¯s pride demanded that the procession go on, and that everyone wear white to pay tribute, but those were clear signals to the killers trying to hunt them down. All of the highest-ranking members of the gang were standing right there.

    ¡°They embodied the proud spirit of our community. They always strived to do right by their families, to provide for them, to protect them. They were cruelly and pointlessly robbed from us.¡±

    Kelly¡¯s Father must have been among them too. She bragged about him being a big shot around these parts. There were some smaller figures, but with so many jackets and hoods being used it was impossible for me to tell who was who.

    Movement.

    A small group of three was moving towards the gate. I kept my eyes on the floor and spared a single glance, but that short window was enough to make my blood turn cold. The kid who tried to murder me was there.

    ¡°When they start, you two get down behind this wall.¡±

    They passed through the heavy iron gates and meandered their way up the path. Robert was still speaking at length about what the dead meant to him and the other gang members. He wasn¡¯t even paying attention. Veronica and her pal were. They stepped away from the tree and approached them, ready to fight at the first sign of resistance.

    ¡°You three! This is a private ceremony,¡± Veronica warned. She was trying not to tip them off.

    The response she received was anything but subtle. The man at the front of the trio held out his palm and summoned forth an incredible burst of energy that even I could feel without submerging into my focused state. It made the hair on my arms stand on end. Veronica and her partner were sent flying through the air, only just avoiding the tree they were hiding behind before.

    The noise sent a wave of alarm through the funeral attendants. The unarmed visitors fled towards the front gate, spurring the assassins to hurry up and charge towards the sight of the burial before their targets could get away. The kid drew a gun, while the other two chose to use their magical abilities to attack the gangsters.

    Robert and his underlings weren¡¯t going to sit there and let themselves be slaughtered. Almost every one of them reached into their coats and drew firearms of their own, ranging from old-fashioned revolvers to modern semi-automatic pistols. It was a mad scramble. Two dozen gang members went to ground, hiding behind tombstones and trees, and whatever else they could find to form a dangerous firing line.

    A bolt of lightning from one of the killers sent one man stumbling back into one of the graves. The rest of the men pulled the trigger and started unleashing a hellacious barrage of gunfire down the way. I barely had time to duck behind the stone wall as several stray bullets ricocheted from various surfaces and turned the entire area into a death trap.

    I thought it was loud before thanks to the rain, but the sound of the guns crackling drowned out everything else and recontextualized what ¡®loud¡¯ meant.

    ¡°Chuff me!¡± Adrian yelled, ¡°I¡¯m going bloody deaf!¡±

    Maxwell was terrified, with dilated pupils and uneven breath. He couldn¡¯t hear me even if I barked a set of orders at him. I struggled to unbutton my coat and unlatch the holster that was resting against my side. My hands and fingers were frozen solid even with a pair of gloves. Pulling the trigger and keeping a steady shot would be difficult.

    I wanted to avoid using the gun if I could. There were too many witnesses around, and I¡¯d been saving up my magical power for this moment. We wanted to capture one of them alive for some pointed questions. I was starting to worry that there¡¯d be nothing left of them before the gangster ran out of ammo.

    The initial barrage finally slowed as some of the gunmen started to reload. Those who had preserved some of their shots by being precise continued to pin the assassins down. Veronica and her friend were still struggling to get back to their feet after that concussive blast.

    Occasionally a bullet would graze one of the attackers ¨C but in a display of supernatural endurance, it did not seem to faze them in the slightest. The shock of being hit would normally keep them from moving, but it was clear that these guys were doped up to the gills with something special.

    The man at the front roared with blind rage and broke cover. He fired his own gun at several of the gang members in an attempt to thin their numbers or suppress them. Several spurts of blood and fabric flew from his hulking body. They only slowed him down by virtue of the force they exerted. He kept walking, shoulders hunched, until he reached the destroyed chapel and took a position behind one of the destroyed walls.

    ¡°These guys are insane!¡± Adrian shouted.

    ¡°Keep your head down!¡± I repeated.

    I couldn¡¯t sit here and let this play out. They were only going to get further away from my position and make the follow-up task of dragging them away harder. I kept my head low and hopped the wall. The only cover was a handful of trees and rows upon rows of headstones, which wouldn¡¯t stop a bullet¡¯s shrapnel from ripping into me.

    My best option was to approach by keeping the hill and chapel between me and the gang members. I moved to the right and tried to find a good angle from which to approach the assassin who was now perched on top of the mound. It was at that moment that Veronica finally got back up and pulled her own gun, firing shots at their backs and forcing them to move.

    It was clear that hitting them in the body wasn¡¯t going to do it. They tanked more than a handful of bullets between them, though the chaos of the situation was making it hard for anyone to hit what they were aiming at. Sensing an opportunity, I charged towards the ruined chapel and ducked behind one of the large foundation stones.

    The man who was concealed inside couldn¡¯t hear me, but he caught a glimpse of my leg sticking out from behind it. He pulled away from fighting the gang members and approached me with teeth bared. He looked like a grizzly bear, he was hopped up on adrenaline and maybe something else. He was only thinking about how to inflict violence on me.

    His first mistake was approaching me with a low-pressure environment surrounding us. I closed out the chaos and entered my focused state. Channelling the energy I needed to direct a bolt of energy in his direction was child¡¯s play. The air around us crackled, but he was the one who took the brunt of the attack. I unleashed a vicious bolt of electricity at him, which struck him square in the chest.

    Bullets were one thing ¨C but a bolt of lightning was something else. His muscles seized up and he fell to the floor, clothes smoking and agony running through his nervous system. I grabbed the nearest loose stone and ran at him, leaping from one of the upturned foundations and coming down with a bone-cracking strike to the back of his head. He fell face-first into a puddle and twitched unconsciously.

    I smirked, ¡°You might be bulletproof ¨C but there¡¯s nothing in this world that beats blunt force trauma.¡±

    I tossed the stone aside and hooked my arms under his shoulders. With a mighty heave, I started to pull him back the way I came, though my first choice of target soon proved untenable. There was simply no way I could get him back down to the back entrance and away from the firefight without someone noticing. I needed to get that kid instead.

    ¡°Shit! Why couldn¡¯t you be lighter, asshole?¡±

    I dropped him into a heap and turned my attention back to the gunfight. The gang members were beating a hasty retreat with the families who weren¡¯t able to fight. Several of them had been shot and killed, or blown away by powerful magic spells that would have normally knocked out a grade five mage like me. Whatever these guys were juiced on, it let them access power that defied the rules.

    Maybe I could dangle him as bait for Veronica and her friend.

    The kid was sick of them harassing him from the left flank. He dropped his gun into the dirt and clasped both of his hands together. My senses were still active, and I knew right away that it was bad news. I¡¯d never seen a mana signature like it. If a bolt of lightning was a torch, then he was preparing to use a floodlight, and all of his fury was pointed in their direction. The man with Veronica sensed it too. He pulled back hard on her shoulder and tried to get them both out of sight as quickly as he could.

    The kid unleashed his magic, and for a scant moment, the air around him was clear from any drops of rain. Then, a deafening boom, mud and grass ripped from the roots and thrown into the air, a wave of sheer physical force that was so powerful that it was possible to see the very air distort as it travelled. Veronica and her partner dove into the nearest ditch, but even that wasn¡¯t enough to protect them completely.

    It kept going.

    The elder tree they were hiding behind was shattered into millions of pieces. The bark exploded, and then the trunk gave way, causing what remained of the top half to come tumbling down. The wave passed through, over the ditch, and towards the outer wall destroying everything it came into contact with. Gravestones, trees, the very ground itself ¨C nothing was spared.

    The perimeter wall stood no chance. The stones were decimated and sent across the street like a set of deadly projectiles, crashing through windows and houses, and liquefying a poor horse who happened to be in the way. Blood and organs splattered against the ruins of the houses demolished by his spell. The dust, water and dirt caught up after that, muffling the chaos under a thick blanket of nature¡¯s splendour.

    I staggered against one of the walls. The blowback from it was almost enough to knock me over, and I was nowhere near the scene of the devastation. The sound of two dozen guns firing suddenly sounded quaint by comparison. My ears were ringing. How many people did that kid turn into a fine paste, then and there? He destroyed the entire damn street.

    The singular sound that stood atop the mountain was his. He was laughing, deliriously, manically, but he was laughing. A high-pitched shrill that pierced to the heart of the matter more profoundly than words ever could. The rain returned and muted him again.

    I had second thoughts about capturing this one alive.

 Chapter 124

    I had seen some heinous stuff during my years as an assassin, but the sight of the devastation laid bare before me was enough to chill me to my core. It was as if a bomb had detonated in the downtown area of the city. Without warning dozens of lives and homes were turned into a pile of blood and rubble.

    For them, it wasn¡¯t about making Cedric money ¨C that much was evident. They weren¡¯t trying to handle this subtly. The kid recklessly demolished an entire row of houses and probably killed a few dozen people in the process. That wasn¡¯t the kind of thing you¡¯d do if you were concerned about the heat.

    Cedric was concerned. He prized his reputation more than his money. If he had any control over what these assassins were doing, they wouldn¡¯t have launched this kind of brazen attack. There was always the small possibility that I was given the wrong impression about him though.

    He was still laughing. He turned to face the gangsters and fired the rest of his magazine, killing three, until it was empty. He tossed the gun aside and started to unload even more devastating spells. Lightning bolts and blasts of energy dispatched even more. The frontline was collapsing and more of them were making their retreat.

    If I didn¡¯t act soon then my window of opportunity would be gone. We came here to try and catch one of them alive. I briefly entertained bringing Adrian and Max over so we could drag the heaviest of the three away, but they weren¡¯t going to let us do that now that the gang members were running for the hills.

    The only thing left was to leap over the stones I was hiding behind and take the fight to them. I drew my gun and peered over the top. It was then that the youngest assassin turned and spotted me out of the corner of his eye. He swung his pistol around and fired at me, but I was already hidden safely behind cover.

    ¡°You again?¡± he roared. His voice broke from the intensity of the shout. They were having trouble controlling their emotions.

    ¡°Leave her! We need to kill the rest of ¡®em!¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡±

    He was focused entirely on getting rid of me. He was going to use one of his spells on me, I could feel the shifting energy in the air. I ducked away from the rock and soon after it exploded into a shower of dust. The force of the explosion blew water and mud into my face, temporarily blinding me.

    I moved back up and fired back with a spell of my own. It was effective against his friend, and seizing up his muscles would keep him from attacking for a time. He saw it coming from a mile away, and he was ready for me. He held out his hands, and the air in front of him shimmered with energy. The bolt met the transparent barrier and dissipated before reaching him.

    That got my attention.

    He reversed the ionisation of the air and deflected it. That was improbable at best and potentially deadly to himself at worst. To react to a lightning bolt travelling at that speed was simply impossible, so the only defensive measure one could use was to hold it up like a shield for an extended period. That technique would rapidly drain your magic reserves and lead to a sudden bout of sickness.

    I¡¯d tried it away from prying eyes a few times after the fights at the party and theatre ¨C but could never do it for any longer than a few seconds before losing my sense of balance and having my stomach leap into my mouth to say hello.

    That huge blast, the bolts he was throwing with liberal abandon, and now the defensive shield versus my counterattack ¨C there was no doubt now that they were modified in some way. They possessed inhuman mana reserves that allowed them to play god with the people they targeted.

    He locked eyes with me, and I got out of the way as soon as I could. I couldn¡¯t kill this guy with magic, and bullets weren¡¯t phasing them either. Getting into a one-on-one battle with him was the fastest way to earn myself a personal plot in this graveyard.

    He chased after me, impulsively, with eyes reddened by rage and, frothing, gnashing teeth. I couldn¡¯t lead him back towards the wall where Max and Adrian were hiding. I had to keep his aim pointed squarely at me and minimize the collateral damage he might cause.

    He replied with a bolt of his own. I felt out my hands and summoned a shield as soon as I saw his fingers moving. He pressed the attack, firing two more. Between summoning it and dispelling it, I wasted energy equivalent to half of a nihility spell.

    ¡°Why won¡¯t you die?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not anywhere close to the end of this story - and I¡¯m the leading lady.¡±

    I wanted to knock him out and take him alive, but I couldn¡¯t risk losing my own life in the process. If I used up all of my mana reserves recklessly then I wouldn¡¯t be able to kill him if the situation got out of my control. I had enough left for one nihility bomb. I could explode his heart, brain or spinal column from a short distance and put a stop to him.

    He stepped forth but paused in front of me.

    ¡°You¡¯re not one of those criminals, are you?¡±

    The white handkerchief was still in my coat pocket. Why did it even matter? He¡¯d shown no care at all about all of the people he was killing by doing this. Now he was trying to distinguish between friend and foe ¨C far too late to make up for the damage he caused.

    His face twisted into an obsessive sneer; ¡°It makes me sick. Hundreds and hundreds of people lining the streets to celebrate gutter trash like them. Not the actions of great and good men, but murderers, robbers and rapists. But you¡¯re different, I can tell.¡±

    His gaze focused on my face, still half-concealed beneath the brim of my hat.

    ¡°There¡¯s a festering rot at the heart of this city. That¡¯s what my Dad always says. People all too happy to wallow around in their own vice, their own muck, and they squeal and cry when someone tries to do the right thing and clean it up! Like you...¡±

    ¡°Like me.¡±

    ¡°I can tell from your accent that you¡¯re a well-to-do sort. You¡¯re here to do charity ¨C but you¡¯re only going to teach them how to wallow in their own mistakes. It¡¯s time for their punishment.¡±

    I was not going to explain my reasoning to this lunatic. He was running his mouth.

    ¡°Punishment? What did those people on the street do for you to blow them away?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re all in on it!¡± he rasped, ¡°They¡¯re creatures of habit. A bunch of cockroaches who wouldn¡¯t do the right thing if their lives depended on it!¡±

    What a bore this kid was. Didn¡¯t he have anything more interesting to stake his life on? It was certainly the type of collective punishment tripe that the monarchists loved to trot out whenever a tragedy happened in a poor area of the growing cities.

    ¡°Are you trying to talk me to death? I¡¯m not interested in charity, so stop delaying and play your hand.¡±

    His outstretched hand dropped to his side, and his stance slackened as if the energy had been sapped from his body.

    ¡°Sorry. Dad says I¡¯m only allowed to kill those gangsters. You¡¯re not one of them, even though you¡¯ve got a gun and all that.¡±

    That didn¡¯t make a lick of sense to me. He was going to leave me alone even though we were trying to kill each other a moment earlier. I scowled and launched a bolt of energy at him, but he was already wise to it. He summoned a barrier in an instant with a flick of his wrist, before blowing me away with a concussive shockwave.

    I lost hold of my gun during the trip. I slid down the side of the hill on my back and came to a stop in a muddy puddle near the bottom by the exterior wall. I shook the stars from my eyes and pulled my feet from the bog, powering my way back up to the destroyed rock formation.

    I spotted him and his accomplice dragging their unconscious friend out of the rear gate. According to him, I wasn¡¯t good enough to waste a bullet on. That would be the last mistake he ever made.

    Veronica was still lying there in the ditch. Again my better judgement, I decided to wake her up and use her as an extra pair of hands against the assassins. Running as fast as my weakened legs could carry me, I skidded over the embankment and down into the channel where she was hiding.

    Veronica¡¯s friend was a complete write-off. He took the brunt of the blast and was already deceased. Every part of his body that could be broken was. I grimaced and moved past him to reach my erstwhile Mother. She survived, somehow, and was in excellent shape considering what happened. She was caked in a mixture of his blood and the dirt that flew during the spell attack.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Wake up!¡±

    I grabbed her by the collar of her coat and shook her. She groaned in pain and slowly came to, peeling open her ruby eyes and staring up at me in a daze.

    ¡°Maria?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re getting away! Get up!¡±

    My urgency snapped her out of it. She twisted around and met the glassy eyes of her dead companion. She ignored the grisly injuries that took his life and rifled through his coat pockets, eventually retrieving another gun to replace the one she lost in the chaos. I hoisted her back up onto her feet and helped her out of the ditch she¡¯d hidden in.

    The gang members were in full retreat. Several more bodies had been added to the ones that were meant to be buried. The graveyard was in a state of extreme disarray. Headstones riddled with bullet holes, trees destroyed where they stood, and the already infirm ground churned into a treacherous bog.

    Veronica followed me towards the back gate, where the assassins had fled with their unconscious friend in hand.

    ¡°I told you to stay out of this.¡±

    ¡°And you thought that I would listen? We still have a chance to catch them. They¡¯re carrying an unconscious body.¡±

    Veronica spared a second glance at the cone of destruction that he summoned forth.

    ¡°Bloody hell!¡±

    Adrian and Maxwell were still waiting for me at the wall.

    ¡°I¡¯m beginning to think again about capturing one of these men alive,¡± I complained.

    ¡°And then we won¡¯t have any answers about what my uncle is doing,¡± Adrian replied whilst eyeing Veronica wearily, ¡°You¡¯re bringing her along too? The last time you spoke she was pounding your head into the floor.¡±

    I smiled, ¡°Water under the bridge, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Veronica moved things along; ¡°Did you see where they went?¡±

    Adrian nodded, ¡°Yeah ¨C down that road, there.¡±

    ¡°If they¡¯re going that way then I think we can intercept them.¡±

    Veronica took the lead, whilst Adrian and Max tried in vain to keep up with us as we sprinted down the road. There were still huge crowds of people panicking and trying to flee the scene, or hiding behind whatever cover they could find. A few prone figures littered the surrounding streets. I kept a close eye on them as we went by.

    Veronica applied her extensive knowledge of the area to predict where they were headed. They were also carrying a hefty man, and the kid wasn¡¯t going to be much help when it came to providing brute strength. We got about two blocks away from the graveyard before something caught my eye.

    There was another person face-down in a puddle by the side of the road, but I recognized him on sight. It was the very same assassin I¡¯d sent to bed using an errant stone before. He was right there in front of me.

    The kid and his other accomplice had dumped the guy into the nearest gutter once they figured out that he was slowing them down too much. We almost tripped over him, but I stopped and took a closer look before we continued the chase.

    ¡°Stop! This is one of them.¡±

    Far from a well-oiled machine, it seemed to me that these people weren¡¯t particularly skilled in the art of getting away with murder. Veronica knelt over him and locked his arms behind his back, before rolling him over to face the sky.

    ¡°Why is there a lump on the back of his head?¡±

    ¡°I did that.¡±

    ¡°You half immolated him too.¡±

    Despite all of that he was still breathing. There was a small cut where the stone grazed his head, but it was already scabbed over with an extremely dark mass of congealed blood. I noted that as odd. Was that why they boasted such incredible durability? It would make sense if their wounds could close with that kind of speed.

    ¡°Goddess help us. Why did they dump him here?¡±

    ¡°They did not want to be caught. It appears that our window of opportunity has passed this time. I was hoping to catch two so we could split them between us.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s brow furrowed. She stared at our motley trio with nothing but incredulity in her eyes.

    ¡°What are you three going to do with one of them?¡±

    ¡°Have a pleasant chat - over some tea.¡±

    Veronica shook her head; ¡°Try saying that without the evil grin next time.¡±

    There was a looming sense that this was as good as it was going to get. The other two had slipped the next, but Veronica was happy enough to come away with at least one person to interrogate. I wondered how they would restrain him given the demonstration of magical might showcased by his friend. A simple jailhouse would not be able to hold him back for long, even the heavy metal cuffs wrapped around his wrists were looking somewhat vulnerable.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have to go back there and clean up the mess?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for the police to worry about ¨C not me.¡±

    Not even a spec of concern about her dead partner either. If she¡¯d been doing this job for as long as I believed she had, then it wouldn¡¯t have been the first time that someone died next to her. People all reacted differently to those types of stresses, even ones who were used to them.

    ¡°And if you¡¯re talking about the other agent, then I have some news for you. Every single one of us knows that we¡¯re already dead men and women walking. Our lives were forfeit the moment we were drafted into this.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean much if you didn¡¯t choose it.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. The head office will take care of the body. I¡¯m here to ensure that we find out where these killers are coming from so that we can put a stop to them. Now, I¡¯d strongly advise that you stay out of my way. Go back home.¡±

    Adrian and Maxwell shared a nervous look.

    ¡°Do you honestly think that barking orders is going to end the way you want? We¡¯ve been through this before.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m saying this as an officer of the law, Maria. I may work under the notice of the general public ¨C but I cannot accept you interfering with the process. The only reason you were allowed to accompany me last time was because I let you.¡±

    ¡°I recall that we made a deal, that I would follow your orders, and I did until you left me behind. I highly doubt that you morons - or any of the bumbling idiots in the police - will be capable of solving this little problem. If there are ever charges filed, political pressure will see them dismissed with haste.¡±

    Maxwell interrupted our family feud; ¡°Is this the best time to be arguing? What if this bloke wakes up and blows us all away with his magic?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not turning him in to the police,¡± Veronica said, ¡°When did you ever get the impression that I trust them to deal with this? They wouldn¡¯t need an entire agency of us if that was the case.¡±

    Veronica hoisted him back up and led us through the alleyway until we reached the main road. We kept going around the corner, and she then flagged down a carriage that was waiting on the corner. The driver jumped down and took his legs, and they both threw him into the back of the cargo area like a sack of potatoes.

    We kept a safe distance from him so that he didn¡¯t suspect Veronica of blowing her cover. She turned back and approached us again.

    ¡°I already told you that my first priority is protecting you. I don¡¯t understand why you find that so difficult to accept.¡±

    ¡°I do accept it,¡± I replied, ¡°But that does not mean that I will stand idly by and rely on you to solve all of my problems. There are other factors that I must consider.¡±

    Max shivered, ¡°Maybe she¡¯s right. This all seems like too much for us to handle.¡±

    ¡°Oi! It¡¯s my life that¡¯s in danger here!¡± Adrian objected.

    ¡°I know that! But did you see what those people just did back there? Not even Maria could handle them!¡±

    Adrian¡¯s explosive anger was subdued suddenly. He took a deep breath and covered his face with his hands. A silent standoff between the four of us was beginning. I was firm on my position, and I made it clear to Veronica before it became even longer.

    ¡°I do not have a choice. There is no rational reason for you to believe my words ¨C but if I ignore this situation now, then it will surely return to haunt me in the future. I am being pulled down by gravity and closing my eyes and ears to it will not insulate me. Thus, I turn and face the challenge head-on.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t some game!¡± Veronica yelled, ¡°You don¡¯t have a duty to do any of this. Leave it to the fools like me. There¡¯s no honour or respect to be salvaged from bloodying your hands with this.¡±

    ¡°I am not doing this for honour or respect. I am doing this to ensure that we can all live comfortably.¡±

    ¡°You already are, and what are the odds of that stopping?¡±

    I kept my voice even.

    ¡°Higher than you imagine. Allow me to offer my best guess about present events. Some moron has engineered a new type of human weapon, that now threatens to upend the extremely delicate balance of power in Walser. You¡¯ve been tasked with finding out who did it and why. Failure will lead to another civil war at best, and potentially one that will consume the entire continent at worst.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s face gave me my answer.

    ¡°I do not have to justify myself to you. I have enough good reasons to intervene in this plot, some of which you are not privy to. Apologies Adrian, but I did not agree to help merely on the basis of doing you a favour.¡±

    Adrian shrugged, ¡°I thought as much.¡±

    ¡°All of this is connected, inevitably, a chain of action and consequence that threatens to destroy everything it touches. Hiding away in a country estate won¡¯t help when the entire nation is burning to the ground.¡±

    Veronica stood firm though, ¡°I can¡¯t let you come with me. That¡¯s the end of it.¡±

    But she had seemingly given up on trying to ward me away simply by virtue of her asking. I was a rebellious teenager who refused to listen to her Mother ¨C though if she wished to pull rank, then perhaps she should have paid more attention to my upbringing.

    Veronica jumped up onto the cart and ordered it to move. I stood on the corner of the street and watched our hard-earned hostage roll away to parts unknown, where she could interrogate him for information about who he worked for.

    ¡°What a disaster!¡± Max griped.

    It was. Giving Veronica the assassin was not in my plans ¨C but it was better than coming up completely empty. We were going to run into each other again soon enough, and then I could assess how helpful my effort was in uncovering the conspiracy.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do about it now. The other two have gotten away. One of them was rather talkative.¡±

    ¡°He was?¡±

    ¡°That he was! According to him, the person giving the orders for these brutal attacks is his Father. While my Mother¡¯s kindness is oft misplaced, she has not yet subjected me to a horrible sort of human experimentation...¡±

    Adrian frowned, ¡°Wait, you¡¯re telling me that one of those assassins is the boss¡¯ son? What kind of lunatic sends his own kid to kill a bunch of mobsters?¡±

    I knew the type all too well. He¡¯d also made sure to inject the right type of ideology into him from a very young age. He was being indoctrinated to be the perfect blunt weapon, happy to be aimed at whatever group was being demonized at the moment.

    ¡°What are we going to do now?¡± he begged.

    It was time for the nuclear option. Every single avenue I¡¯d pursued thus far had left me empty-handed, with only small clues to go on. This was bigger than I initially thought with implications that could impact the entire country. Letting the monarchists get their hands on an army of super soldiers was not in anyone¡¯s best interest.

    There was one last card left to play ¨C and it was the one that I was trying to avoid for as long as possible. We were going to have to visit Cedric and twist his arm, and by ¡®twist his arm¡¯ I meant threaten to rip his balls off and shove them down his throat.

    ¡°Do you know where your Uncle¡¯s office is?¡±

    Adrian tensed up, ¡°I do. Why?¡±

    ¡°Failing all else ¨C our only recourse is to visit the man himself, don¡¯t you agree?¡±

    He always knew he was going to regret signing a deal with the devil.

 Chapter 125

    It was early the next morning, and the working day was only just beginning across the city. Stores were opening, factory workers were migrating, and the streets were jammed full of people trying to get where they needed to go. It was a brisk and chilly day ¨C and there were several workmen carrying boxes to and fro in front of Cedric¡¯s main office building.

    The tragedy of the attack at the funeral was the big topic on everyone¡¯s lips. Even as I pushed my way past the men out front and approached a set of metal steps at the side of the warehouse I could hear them speaking openly about it. Adrian and Max followed me with guilty hunches weighing them down.

    Nobody saw fit to stop us as we ploughed through the door and entered onto the office floor. A dozen paper pushers kept their heads down and focused on their desks while we weaved our way through to the room where Cedric liked to work during the day. It was a large room surrounded by frosted glass, hanging over the edge of the balcony and looking out onto the main floor.

    The door was already open for us. Cedric was nose-deep in a ledger of his own when we arrived like a tidal wave.

    ¡°Adrian?¡±

    I didn¡¯t stop moving for even a second. I marched up to the desk, slammed the book shut, and grabbed the ruffled collar of his white dress shirt, dragging him down onto his hands and knees and pummelling his head against the back wall with a quick and vicious kick. He clutched the welt on his forehead and tried to protect himself from any further attacks.

    ¡°Maria!¡±

    ¡°You said you wanted me to handle this. So sit there and shut up.¡±

    I let the mask slip for a brief moment, but it was all too revealing. That was not the voice of a calm and refined noble lady ¨C but of a person who was here with a single-minded intent to make this mule squeal for all that he was worth. I emphasised each word to make sure he heard me.

    ¡°You are going to tell us who is sending those assassins into Church Walk. I want names, I want to know where we can find them, and I want to know your involvement in all of this. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°W-What in the Goddess¡¯ name are you talking about?¡±

    I was really sick of people playing dumb. I hit him again with an overhead punch. He clutched the back of his skull and tried to scramble away into the corner. Adrian and Maxwell hurried to the door and ensured it was locked from the inside.

    ¡°Have you not indulged in their support? A group of merciless killers, ready and willing to commit crime after crime in your name. We are already well aware of your involvement.¡±

    We weren¡¯t ¨C I was bluffing.

    Cedric was a straightforward type of asshole. It was obvious what his intentions and goals were, and the direction of the ¡®narrative¡¯ had me on firm footing when it came to accusing him of being the one who leaked information about the watch.

    ¡°Monarchists working in concert with you in exchange for information, and now for the sake of your project in Church Walk. It must have come as a profound disappointment when Adrian was not killed by those cultists back then.¡±

    He finally caught on to what we were doing. His eyes snapped to Adrian, who was standing stiffly at the other side of the office and observing with fear on his face.

    ¡°Is this... is this about that bloody watch?¡±

    ¡°Not the watch. Pay attention.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t have anything to do with that watch, or how it got stolen!¡±

    Adrian cut him off, ¡°You were the only other person who knew about it, and what it could do. I suppose it was all a bloody coincidence that a monarchist group swooped in to steal it the first chance they could. You¡¯ve been calling in favours for the past year.¡±

    Cedric got the impression that his denials were not going to avail him. He was backed up into the corner, both physically and emotionally, and his pleas for mercy were not going to get him out of it.

    I smiled, ¡°You have nought to lose by telling me the truth. This confrontation can end, and you will be none the worse for wear.¡±

    ¡°Naught to lose? Don¡¯t make me laugh. I¡¯m not compromising my plan to better this city just to appease Adrian¡¯s misplaced paranoia. I will do what¡¯s right!¡±

    Adrian squawked, ¡°Better the city? Do what¡¯s right? You¡¯ve turned the bloody place into a warzone! What do you call what happened yesterday?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t have anything to do with- urk!¡±

    He gasped and coughed up a strand of spittle onto the floor as the tip of my leather boot met his ribcage. I knelt down and pulled back on his hair, forcing him to face me eye-to-eye.

    ¡°You are not fooling anyone, Cedric. I would highly advise that you cease these idiotic games, lest I lose my patience and throw your lifeless carcass out of the nearest window.¡±

    I pushed him down and kept my foot on the back of his neck. He coughed the phlegm from his throat and shook his head. He was probably being sent for a loop by what was happening. A thirteen-year-old girl was kicking him around like an experienced protection racketeer.

    Adrian got back on topic, ¡°Yesterday. What was that?¡±

    Cedric¡¯s breathing became heavier. He continued to shake his head and sweat, trying desperately to delay for time so that he wouldn¡¯t have to make a definitive statement on what was going on. I pressed harder and made it clear that such tactics were not helpful.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t have anything to do with it! Honest! I didn¡¯t tell them to do that!¡±

    ¡°So you do know who they are?¡±

    ¡°N-Not exactly,¡± Cedric rasped, ¡°I don¡¯t know who the gunmen are ¨C but I know who keeps sending them down there. Gerard Verner Welt, he¡¯s the one who relays the information between us!¡±

    ¡°The MP?¡± I asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, the one who sits with the Restoration Party!¡±

    ¡°Is he the one in charge?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I really don¡¯t.¡±

    I backed away and gave him some space to breathe. He clutched his chest and staggered back to his chair so that he could keep his legs from shaking. He leaned against the desk and glared daggers at me.

    ¡°I never told them to do any of this. All he said was that he wanted to help me with the redevelopment, and I had no reason to refuse. Next thing I know ¨C he¡¯s sending armed lunatics into the streets to try and kill every gang member they find.¡±

    ¡°What does he get out of it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe he cares about what happens to the gangs. I have no idea.¡±

    I suspected that the ¡®benefit¡¯ of deploying these assassins was not tangible or economic. The very act of dispatching them to complete a mission would provide their handlers with a wealth of information about how they operated away from watchful eyes. They were super soldiers. They were intended to be replicated and deployed wherever there was a war to be fought.

    Monarchists subscribed to an idealist vision of Walser. Cedric was somewhat mistaken in his assertion that Welt didn¡¯t care about what happened to Church Walk. It was reasonable to say that he saw it as just as much of an eyesore as he did, a glowing monument to all of society¡¯s ills and mistakes, and all of those roads led back to one event ¨C the Compromise that removed the Van Walser family from total power.

    In his sterling, unblemished Walser, there would be no Church Walk. Miscreants and criminals would be executed where they stood or locked away for their whole lives. Citizens would be indoctrinated from birth to have an unblinking faith in the values of the nation, to be obedient and listless and unquestioning no matter the circumstance.

    The kid at the graveyard said as much.

    It was a dark preview of what might happen should I ignore the scheme. Normalized political violence would quickly spiral out of control. Everyone would become a justifiable target and chaos would take over.

    ¡°What in the hell are you planning to do, Adrian?¡± he barked, ¡°You have a bloody death wish wanting to mess with them! Do you have any idea how powerful they are? Even I¡¯m nothing more than another piece for them to play with in these stupid games!¡±

    ¡°Fortunately, I did not inherit your same sense of cowardice,¡± he bit back, ¡°There is only one man to blame for your situation ¨C and that is yourself. You¡¯ve kept their company for a reason, and now that you stand to lose it all, you try to act like a hapless victim.¡±

    Harsh, but true. Cedric was outraged by his nephew¡¯s words.

    ¡°The only thing you¡¯ve learnt from my brother is how to throw pointed words! I can¡¯t think of a worse person to lead our family business into the future. You lack good sense and manners, and the intelligence and ruthlessness that it demands.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not the one grovelling on my hands and knees. I¡¯m not the one at the mercy of a group of murderers!¡±

    Cedric moved past the desk as if to confront him physically, but his ire was just as readily turned in my direction.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°And you! What has your Father been teaching you? I¡¯ve never seen a girl of your good breeding act in such a violent manner. I have half a mind to report you to the police.¡±

    I laughed in that typically obnoxious ¡®Maria¡¯ manner. Cedric¡¯s shoulders stiffened at the clarion tone of my mirth.

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you will, Sir Roderro. I¡¯m sure that you understand full well that the men you have entangled yourself with have eyes and ears everywhere. Infiltrating the police would be an easy task for them, and if they fear that you have been compromised in some way...¡±

    Cedric¡¯s pupils dilated in shock.

    ¡°...Well, let¡¯s err on the side of caution and say that you won¡¯t be troubling them for much longer after that.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t... that¡¯s not!¡±

    Cedric looked to each corner of the room in search of comfort. Max and Adrian weren¡¯t going to offer him any, nor could he run out of the office and call for help without looking the fool. The mere act of speaking was so risky that he couldn¡¯t even reveal that I¡¯d threatened him in this way. His brow furrowed and his skin shimmered with sweat. A cold panic was setting in.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this to me. I¡¯ll report you! You¡¯ll be branded as a disgrace to your family! Your old man will have to take on a new wife and have another child!¡±

    I was not in the mood to stand here and listen to his hysterical pleas. I glared at him with all of my malice and silenced him.

    ¡°What do you not understand about this? If you speak out of turn, your friends will dispose of you. If you try to speak anyway and somehow avoid that outcome...¡±

    I pulled open my coat and revealed the holstered gun by my side.

    ¡°...Then I will kill you myself.¡±

    I released it and allowed the fold to fall back into place. Cedric was stunned, not only by the firearm that was attached to my side but also by the clear and present threat I was making to him.

    ¡°You will say nothing,¡± I ordered, ¡°You will say nothing and do nothing. You can waste all the time on your redevelopment project that you please, but this is the end of your involvement in proceedings. No more gimmicks, no more tomfoolery, no more trying to kill your nephew. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this.¡±

    ¡°And what do you suppose that you can do? Will you find that long-since abandoned sense of shame and do the righteous thing? Will you speak out and allow your life to be ended for the sake of revealing the truth? Or will you sit here in this office and keep doing what you¡¯ve always chosen to do?¡±

    I walked past him and to the window that looked out across the warehouse floor, where two dozen of his employees were loading up carts to begin their business for the day.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing you a favour.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°This is not a battle that you can win. You have no allies, no means, and no influence. The moment you gave them control over the field of play was the moment that you became a non-factor. They can throw you beneath the churning wheels and deliver you a lovely, solitary cell right next to your brother¡¯s. The only thing I¡¯m asking you to do ¨C is nothing at all.¡±

    I turned back on him and put my hand on his shoulder, ¡°Manage your business, make your money, and go home and sleep in your warm bed. All you have to do is nothing, but I have come to discover that asking someone to do nothing is often asking for too much. Can you stem your ambition for even a short time?¡±

    I released him and moved back to Adrian and Max¡¯s side. Cedric was unable to formulate a coherent reply to what I was saying. There was a truth in it that even he could not deny. He did not have the leverage he needed to pull a fast one on Verner Welt.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to get killed,¡± he murmured, ¡°I meant what I said. You don¡¯t have the instinct for this kind of thing, Adrian.¡±

    Adrian shrugged, ¡°Neither do you.¡±

    <hr>

    Veronica had to work through her personal channels to make the interrogation happen. It was clear that both WISA and the military were compromised, and a wide-reaching conspiracy was emerging that threatened to rob them of their ability to resist. She couldn¡¯t rely on the other agents or utilise the resources that the agency afforded her.

    Luckily, she was paranoid enough to maintain a network of contacts that allowed her to work without going through WISA or her handlers. There were plenty of secure cellars located throughout the city that were unoccupied. Agreement and payment with an old friend meant she could haul her new suspect into a storage basement, chain him down to a chair, and keep him there until he squealed like a bird.

    That would be her ideal outcome, but the elevated levels of aggression displayed by the subject meant that pressing him for information was off of the table. He was in no mood to speak with the likes of her.

    ¡®Elevated levels of aggression¡¯ felt like a mockery of the madness she saw in his eyes the day before. He snarled and ground his teeth, eyes leering, bulging out of their sockets, with angry red veins running across their yellowed surface. Veronica feared that he would bite off his own tongue in his fury and kill himself by accident.

    Getting any answers out of him was impossible. All of her questions were ignored as he struggled to try and free himself from the heavy metal restraints that covered his body. Most notable of all was a pair of mittens that covered both hands and connected behind his back. These restraints were designed to counter magic. Using a concussive blast to try and remove them would result in the blowback severely injuring him.

    As the hours went by her anxiety about the assassin figuring out how to escape lessened. He made a big show of pushing against the chains that tied him down, but he wasn¡¯t strong enough on his own to break through them. Even if he could ¨C the anti-mage gloves would keep him from doing damage to the room he was locked in.

    The problem was the same ¨C he couldn¡¯t even talk if he wanted to.

    The blood leaking down the front of his chest, from what should have been a series of deadly gunshot wounds, matched the profile of what was found outside of the morgue and on the body of the first killer in Church Walk. Separate but united, a mixture of human blood and what appeared to be a thick, oil-like substance.

    That was the hyper-conductive demon¡¯s blood that was stolen from the corpse created by her daughter. Not only did it contain huge quantities of raw energy, but it also allowed the user¡¯s natural energy to flow through the body at an accelerated pace. This could create explosive and devastating spells that would be impossible otherwise.

    That blood also congealed at a supernatural rate. Whatever it was doing, it ensured that the assassins transfused were capable of surviving two dozen gunshot wounds to the chest, sealing up the injuries and keeping their organs from rupturing.

    She hoped that a long night spent in a cold, dark, miserable cellar would be the medicine he needed to come back around and start speaking again. The lack of noise she could hear from behind the heavy doors promised either that or an abject failure with a newly dead body.

    Veronica unlocked the door and pulled it open. Light flooded into the room and stirred the dazed assassin from his stupor. All of the rage that filled his body the day before was now gone. Veronica maintained a position of control by theatrically walking into the space with her hands held close to her back. Framing was everything.

    ¡°Good morning, sir. I hope you had a restful night.¡±

    Veronica took long, harsh steps that made a lot of noise on the stone floor. Each one sounded like a gunshot and caused the man to jolt in his seat. She circled him three times exactly before stopping in his field of view and removing her hat.

    ¡°Do you know why you¡¯re here?¡±

    There was no response. He remained steadfast in his silence.

    ¡°Can you speak?¡±

    Veronica studied his features carefully. He was around forty years of age, with a pair of bushy brows and a natural frown. His skin was extraordinarily pale - in line with witness statements about the other killers he worked in concert with.

    He jostled against his binds again ¨C but without the same level of energy or aggression she witnessed the previous day. He then snapped back to reality and shook his head. He inhaled with a harsh gasp and then slumped over.

    Veronica tortured people from time to time, at least until the head office issued an edict saying that it wasn¡¯t that effective and agents had to restrain themselves from doing it. It wasn¡¯t going to be effective against him anyway. She needed another angle of approach to make him speak, and she could roll on from there.

    She took the chair from the corner of the room and placed it in front of him, making a deliberate show of getting down to his level and meeting his eyes.

    ¡°Can I have your name?¡±

    He inhaled with a rasp, his eyes darting back and forth. He held that breath for some time before releasing it again. His entire body shivered. He was all raw nerves; exposed sensitivities and prickling needles. Veronica allowed the question to hang in the air for however long it took to get an answer.

    ¡°Michael.¡±

    It was so quiet that she almost missed it.

    ¡°Michael,¡± she repeated, ¡°Can you tell me what happened yesterday? What you did?¡±

    Again, another long silence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t recall.¡±

    ¡°Do you remember how you felt? Do you remember feeling angry?¡±

    He nodded.

    ¡°Why were you angry, Michael?¡±

    ¡°No home, no job...¡±

    Veronica maintained an even expression as she started to chip away at the layers in front of her. She was intentionally starting with more personal questions whilst repeating his name as often as she could to elicit an emotional response.

    ¡°Has this been the case for a long time?¡±

    ¡°Three years.¡±

    A homeless man with no job and no address. They were often the target of predatory criminals of all stripes. If the people organizing the killings were trying to find a good scapegoat to experiment on it was likely that they saw Michael as the ideal subject. Nobody would be reporting his disappearance to the police.

    It posed a new problem for her thesis of the case. Working-class people were less likely to strongly support Monarchist causes. They had more faith in Parliament and the concepts that it represented. It would have been tough to select a monarchy-sympathizing homeless man who felt strongly enough to kill. His behaviour suggested that his mental acuities were being manipulated in some way. He was in a blind rage during the shootout, but now he was completely listless.

    ¡°You attacked a funeral that was happening by the old Sara Monastery. Do you know the names of the two people who accompanied you?¡±

    Veronica chastised herself. That was too complicated for him to answer. He shook his head.

    ¡°Okay. Do you remember anything at all about who took you and what happened afterwards?¡±

    Events prior to the shootout were on more solid footing in his memory.

    ¡°They said they¡¯d pay me if I went with ¡®em. Some strangers, they approached me on the corner, said they¡¯d pay me. They never did. They threw a bag over my head and hauled me off. After that...¡±

    ¡°They injected you with various substances.¡±

    ¡°Aye. I think that¡¯s what happened. They were at it for a long time. Weeks. It... hurt a lot. Hurt real bad. Then they¡¯d send us out to do stuff and pump us full with even more shit. I don¡¯t remember what happened after that...¡±

    Veronica had to strain her ears to even hear what he was saying. His voice was hoarse from shouting and screaming for so long, and his body was sapped of strength after being severely injured during the fight. Monetary, psychological and drug-based manipulation ¨C they were going all out to ensure that their assassins were as compliant as they could be.

    That would be expensive and time-consuming. A steady supply of hallucinogens didn¡¯t appear out of thin air. Veronica had tangled with every drug-smuggling gang around, but they traded in low-grade swill that was more likely to kill the user than give them a real high. They had a source she wasn¡¯t familiar with.

    ¡°What instructions did they give you?¡±

    The question caused a significant pause in his testimony. He squinted his eyes, closed them, and licked his dry lips in an attempt to summon forth the memory that teased the tip of his tongue.

    ¡°I don¡¯t... I don¡¯t recall exactly. They said something about white rags?¡±

    ¡°The Church Street Gang. Do you have any experience with them?¡±

    ¡°No, no. Not the likes of me. I stayed well away from Church Walk. Too dangerous. I suppose that¡¯s what they meant when they said white rags then. They repeated that a lot. It got stuck in my head.¡±

    He was almost fully coaxed out of his emotional shell now, but it wouldn¡¯t be long before the withdrawal symptoms set in. That would be the end of his helpful testimony, so Veronica had to make her questions count before she handed him off to someone at the head office.

    It sounded as if the puppet masters were utilising drugs and repetition to condition the assassins. They would give them a simple set of orders and then set them loose in a particular area of the city to see what they could do. There was also the possibility that some of them were willing participants in the scheme.

    Veronica tried to fill in the blanks about how many assassins there were, how many were willing members of the group, and how the demon¡¯s blood was obtained and smuggled to where they were located ¨C but a combination of their secrecy and Michael¡¯s memory loss meant that he was already running low on helpful details.

    An hour of questioning had gone by. Veronica stood back up from the chair and pushed it back into the corner.

    ¡°I appreciate your candour. I¡¯ll move you out of here in a moment.¡±

    Michael slumped over in his chair and closed his eyes. Even speaking to another person briefly was exhausting. Veronica left the cellar and ascended the stairs, where her contact was still waiting.

    ¡°Did it go well?¡±

    ¡°Mostly. Let¡¯s get him to the office and hand him off. I¡¯ve got some new leads to follow.¡±

    The contact sighed; ¡°I¡¯ll bring the cart back around.¡±

 Chapter 126

    We were outside of the office soon after the confrontation, collecting our thoughts at a nearby park. I resisted utilising the nuclear option until there was no other choice. Cedric was put on notice about what was going on, and the consequences of trying to wriggle his way out of it.

    ¡°I think we crossed a line there.¡±

    I stopped in place and rounded on Adrian, ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°You threatened to bloody kill him! He¡¯s not going to sit there and take that lying down. He¡¯s too stupid, even with you spelling it all out for him!¡±

    ¡°We do not have time for this. If we had become involved in this earlier, then a more elegant solution would have been preferable. You know that I¡¯m remiss to allow anyone to know more than they need to.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m starting to feel like you¡¯re hiding a lot from the rest of us too.¡±

    ¡°I am hiding something ¨C but it won¡¯t be of any use to you, or to me, now. It¡¯s irrelevant.¡±

    Adrian didn¡¯t buy it. He stubbornly crossed his arms and refused to budge on the subject. He was so certain that there was more to this that he wouldn¡¯t continue to support my actions unless I gave him a convincing enough secret. The problem was that it didn¡¯t affect me whether he chose to come along or not ¨C if anything it would make my job easier.

    ¡°If you have a problem with that, then you can go home. I haven¡¯t asked you to spill every personal detail from your life for the past ten years, and you already know the most damning secret of them all.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about blackmail. That¡¯s your way of thinking talking. It¡¯s about trust.¡±

    ¡°I never said you should trust me.¡±

    No. Those were the two words that I hated saying the most. I hated hearing them too. There was no such convenient thing in this world as an honestly trustworthy person. Trust was for idiots. It was a convenient placebo for when there was nothing to uphold a transactional relationship.

    Adrian¡¯s expression was a mixture of anger and befuddlement.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get you, not one bit. You do all of this crazy bullshit ¨C but then you act like you don¡¯t really care about the outcome. What are you even doing this for? You point in a direction and mow down everyone you meet, you¡¯re like a natural disaster! What the hell are you doing this for?¡±

    He was the one who asked me to help, but now the grim realities of what that meant were playing on his mind. The stress was pushing him to question my role in the proceedings, as he was honestly right to do. Despite the rationality of his questions ¨C my immediate, emotional reaction was to become extremely irritated with him.

    ¡°You were the one who asked for me to do this, and now there is an even more pressing reason for me to-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not your responsibility though, is it?¡± Adrian interrupted, ¡°All the police, and those spies like your Mother, they get paid to put themselves in danger. I can understand that much.¡±

    What was he hoping to hear out of my mouth exactly? There was no answer that I could offer that would make a lick of sense to him. All my talk about the narrative I was living, the things that Durandia told me, and how it could have potentially disastrous consequences if left unattended to.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing you a favour.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re not doing it for me, are you? You couldn¡¯t stand the sight of me until a few months ago. You don¡¯t go from hating my guts to risking your life for me that fast, and you always talk on and on about how people are motivated by specific goals, and that you can use that against them. Can¡¯t you reflect on your own reasons for being here?¡±

    ¡°Redemption, to save lives, to do the right thing ¨C maybe it¡¯s all of those. But the one goal that drives me is much simpler. I want to live. I want to keep walking down this treacherous road for as long as I can. It might give way beneath my feet at any moment, but that¡¯s no reason to give up. If I do, there won¡¯t be a Walser left to live in.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s eyes narrowed, ¡°Redemption for what?¡±

    I held my arms out and laughed, ¡°What else? I¡¯ve already taken enough lives to condemn my soul. Preventing these madmen from unleashing their personal army will balance the scales in my direction.¡±

    Adrian was torn between accepting that as a selfish answer or calling bullshit on it. He didn¡¯t have the full picture and he knew that. There was no cypher for him to use so that he could parse my confused motivations. I was telling the truth. This wasn¡¯t about justice, or honour, or even saving my friends. I was a dead girl walking and I wanted to see how far I could get before the cruel irony finally settled in and called time on my second lease on life.

    I expected nothing if only so I could avoid a bitter disappointment in the end.

    ¡°If you have a problem with how we¡¯re doing this, then feel free to call off our deal.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too late to be doing that now,¡± Adrian observed, ¡°You¡¯ve put all the cards on the table. Either he¡¯s going to stop trying to off me, or he¡¯ll ignore you and keep going.¡±

    ¡°There is always a third way. You should not discount the stupidity of a man being told to sit by and do nothing. He will tumble headfirst into the worst of both worlds with enough misplaced confidence.¡±

    Max tried to steer the discussion towards our next goal; ¡°Verner Welt is a big deal in parliament. Even I¡¯ve heard of him. Are you sure it¡¯s wise to get involved?¡±

    ¡°No. I suggest that the two of you head home and lay low instead.¡±

    He scowled, ¡°My brother is implicated in this. I¡¯m not going to go home now. I want these people locked up so that he doesn¡¯t get caught in the mess when it all collapses.¡±

    I was surprised to see them both digging their heels in and refusing to follow my suggestion. If that last firefight at the graveyard wasn¡¯t enough to scare them away, then nothing would be. The problem was that they didn¡¯t serve any purpose by coming along for the ride. They were decent at using magic ¨C but practising in an open field was a lot different than being under pressure during a fight.

    I rubbed the corner of my eyes and sat down on a bench to collect my thoughts.

    ¡°Welt is extremely important to the Restoration Party. He may not be the man in charge, but he is the one who holds a lot of connections with the nobility. It¡¯s accurate to say that there would be no party if not for him.¡±

    In summation ¨C killing him would be incredibly difficult to pull off. He was going to be surrounded by police officers at every public engagement he made, and information about his movements was going to be locked down tight. There was no ongoing election campaign so he wasn¡¯t pounding the pavement making speeches either.

    If he was connected with the juiced-up killers running around then it was possible that they could become a major problem too. These guys were supposed to be the Monarchists¡¯ private army. He would have access to them. You didn¡¯t become influential on that level without being a shrewd operator.

    Beyond the obvious like his part affiliation and public reputation, I knew next to nothing about him. This would be a two-step process. I had to get what information out of him that I could to confirm his involvement, and then I needed to get close. A single nihility hit to the heart would kill him on the spot - and it was rare for the police to bring a mage with them for any of their operations. They¡¯d be none the wiser.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose that you two have any bright ideas about what to do with him?¡±

    ¡°My uncle could set up a meeting with him.¡±

    ¡°No. Cedric is not going to act against his own interests when it comes to Welt. Welt will not be the only person responsible for the chaos. If he is outed as the one who helped us ¨C then he will be next on the chopping block.¡±

    Adrian was probably thinking ¡®Isn¡¯t that what we want?¡¯ He recalled seconds later that this discussion started with him chastising me for roughing him up a little and threatening to give him a new hole to breathe through.

    ¡°We¡¯re back to square one, then?¡±

    Max disagreed, ¡°No. If Cedric decides to stop trying to murder you, then we¡¯ve made some type of progress, but we only have this week left before we have to go back to school. We can¡¯t afford to waste any of these days.¡±

    We sat there and stewed on the issue for the next ten minutes without coming up with a single bright idea. It was increasingly looking like another visit to Gertrude¡¯s apartment of wonders was due. I brought along more cash and some more blackmail letters in case we needed them.

    But sometimes assistance came from unexpected sources.

    ¡°Oi, you lot!¡±

    Our attention was drawn towards the entrance to the urban park. Kelly was standing by the gate.

    ¡°Friend of yours?¡± Adrian quipped.

    She approached our group with an uneasy look. She was entirely unfamiliar with Maxwell and Adrian, who both towered over her.

    ¡°I did not expect to meet you again,¡± I said, ¡°Is this merely a stroke of chance, or have you been looking for me?¡±

    Kelly, with her freckled cheeks and messy hair, was the encapsulation of a troublesome young girl. She sent a dirty look the boys¡¯ way and leaned in to whisper to me instead of letting it spill out to them.

    ¡°Are these two alright?¡±

    ¡°Yes. We are getting into a spot of bother ourselves at the moment.¡±

    She pulled back and raised her voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of both. I owe you a thanks for keeping that nutter away from me, and I was wondering if you knew anything about the blokes who attacked everyone at the funeral. My Dad nearly got shot, and a lot of our family friends did get shot.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have much information about them. They¡¯re tough, and they¡¯re targeting members of your district¡¯s gang as a test run before they try and launch a larger-scale assault against their handlers¡¯ enemies.¡±

    ¡°A test?¡± Kelly muttered, ¡°So they think we¡¯re a bunch of bloody small fries?¡±

    ¡°If they are trying to do what I believe they are, then taking on a street gang is indeed a smaller-scale challenge. They mean to launch a multi-faceted assault on Walser as a whole.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re going to be sorry. The boss is getting everyone together, and I¡¯ve seen one of his fixers visiting the Walk. He¡¯s not going to spare a single mark when it comes to getting payback on ¡®em now.¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°His fixer?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. They call him Marco.¡±

    ¡°Oh dear.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Me and Marco have some history. He tried to murder my Uncle earlier this year.¡±

    I should have assumed that he was going to be pulled into this. Robert Van Gervan had already paid him a big bag once before to help out. He was going to hire him and his boys and try to get back at the people who attacked the funeral. The problem was that Marco didn¡¯t have any intel about the supposed monarchists in question.

    Marco was talented ¨C but he wasn¡¯t a miracle worker. He was not going to get anywhere marauding through the streets with his team and hoping to run into them. They would need a solid lead to follow. I hadn¡¯t yet been able to assess his intel-gathering ability, finding out where my Uncle was during a political campaign was easy.

    In an ideal world, he¡¯d take care of the problem without us having to lift a finger! Unfortunately, the law of dramatic irony probably meant that I was a lynchpin in sorting this whole mess out. Durandia didn¡¯t drag me here so I could kick my feet up and slack off.

    ¡°So that isn¡¯t helpful?¡± Kelly pondered.

    ¡°He isn¡¯t trying to kill my Uncle now. In fact, we all have the same objective at the moment. If not now, when else would be the best time to make amends and forgive past sins?¡±

    Kelly, a petty and aggressive teenager raised in the midst of a violent street gang, found that display of clemency confounding. Her only methods of conflict resolution relied on hitting someone with a rock or threatening them with her connections to the top of the Church Street crew.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be giving him a pass if he did that to me,¡± she stated simply.

    I laughed softly, ¡°I am focused on the outcomes. If I were to weigh my contempt for him and those lunatics with the pale skin against one another, they would win by a clear margin. There is always time for reigniting old feuds later. Marco is more useful to us alive. When did you see him?¡±

    Kelly shrugged, ¡°A few minutes ago. Mum asked me to do my chores and I spotted him walking past.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯d better go and talk with him before he leaves again.¡±

    <hr>

    The downpour raining over Church Walk felt heavier than ever.

    Robert Van Gervan was laid out in bed, looking through the window and across the road. The heavy rain muted the sounds of the city, hammering against the glass like gunfire. Standing in the doorway was one Marco Fisichella. He silently entered, closed the door, and sat down on one of the two chairs that were positioned next to the bed.

    This was an unusual meeting. The circumstances couldn¡¯t have been worse. Robert was recovering from a gunshot injury to one of his legs. It wasn¡¯t fatal, but he couldn¡¯t walk while his bones were set back into place. A large number of his men were not so fortunate. What was a funeral for several turned into two dozen more.

    Still reeling from a cocktail of painkilling drugs, Robert demanded that Marco be brought to him immediately. Marco refrained from making light of the previous day¡¯s events and waited until he was ready to speak.

    ¡°It¡¯s not on,¡± Robert grumbled, ¡°Can¡¯t even mourn the lads who died without them coming back and adding more of ¡®em to the list.¡±

    Marco¡¯s face was unreadable.

    ¡°They targeted you because they knew about the funeral because you were all wearing your gang colours. You and the rest need to lay low. Those killers are out of control. What happened when you fought back?¡±

    ¡°Everyone was shooting ¡®em, but they wouldn¡¯t go down. Then they started throwing those damn spells at us. They killed some of my best friends out there and then they made a run for it. Didn¡¯t have the bollocks to stay behind and finish the job.¡±

    ¡°Finish the job? Don¡¯t be stupid. What good is there in offering your life to them?¡±

    Robert finally twisted his head his way. He was covered in sweat and grime, with stray strands of matted hair clinging to his forehead. Marco felt he more closely resembled a plague victim than someone who was shot in the leg.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about ¡®good,¡¯ or being practical, it¡¯s about pride.¡±

    ¡°You and your pride,¡± Marco spat, ¡°Is it really more valuable than your lives?¡±

    Robert grabbed the white cloth from his pocket and clenched it into his fist.

    ¡°This? It¡¯s not merely a decoration. This is our way of life. We can die in an instant and be forgotten just as quickly, but the Church Street gang has endured for three generations. It¡¯ll continue to outlive us if we hold the line.¡±

    The battle lines were freshly drawn ¨C the reason for Robert summoning Marco was becoming more distant as they launched into yet another argument.

    ¡°That is what annoys me most about you, Robert ¨C you lay here and pretend to be one of the little people, someone who can¡¯t make a difference, but you¡¯re not. You¡¯ve been living in the lap of luxury for years, you command a gang of hundreds of people who hang on your every word. Keeping this farce going is not any kind of ¡®legacy-making.¡¯ It¡¯s pathetic.¡±

    Robert scowled furiously. His body was weak, and he so strongly wished to have the energy to shout back at him.

    ¡°What gives you the right to say that? Living in a nice house, away from all the ¡®little people¡¯ you claim to care about so much.¡±

    Marco was quick to respond, ¡°I never claimed to care. I¡¯ve worked for a lot of wealthy people over the years. That ¡®nice house¡¯ is the outcome of decades of bloodying my hands. The problem is that your biases blind you to the reality. Legacy is nothing. We die and our bodies are tossed into the nearest open hole to become worm food.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s something after,¡± Robert said.

    ¡°After all of this? It must be a comforting tale to tell yourself for when the day finally comes.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to regret not doing what I can if I¡¯m right. Men are remembered for what they do, they¡¯re remembered for being something more than themselves.¡±

    ¡°But you are no martyr, no martyr at all. And besides ¨C the people do not want to recall men like you or me. For all of the great and terrible acts we commit, we are still footnotes in a larger story.¡±

    ¡°I know you. I didn¡¯t bring you here to admire my sick bed.¡±

    Marco leaned closer, ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°I want those bastards gone. I want the ones who funded and organized them gone too. A clean house. Every single man and woman connected to ¡®em, I want them dead, and I¡¯m willing to pay whatever it takes to make it happen.¡±

    ¡°How much?¡±

    ¡°Every damn mark I have, and even the marks I don¡¯t yet. I¡¯ll give you a cut of what we make for however long it takes if it isn¡¯t enough.¡±

    ¡°The full course. Me and all of my usual friends.¡±

    ¡°I want nothing less. I know that you don¡¯t mess around when it comes to jobs like these. I have high expectations.¡±

    Marco had a difficult task on his hands. He was deeply connected to the hired killer sector of the underworld and was familiar with every big name and face who did what he did. None of the killers he¡¯d seen until that point were recognizable to him. The fact that they all used the same methodology and displayed the same level of physical durability meant they were working in concert.

    There was little time to spend looking into who they were. If he wanted to get paid he¡¯d need to show results quickly, before the rest of the gang were picked off in mass attacks like the funeral. Robert had foolishly declined to extend his services to that event originally. He could have provided a lot more firepower than what they brought.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want your pity or your admonishments. Do this for me and I¡¯ll speak the only language you understand. A wad of cash in one hand and a gun in the other.¡±

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do it.¡± Marco stood from his seat, ¡°Is there anything else?¡±

    ¡°No. Give me some bloody peace and quiet.¡±

    Robert shooed him away with one of his hands. Marco left without saying goodbye. He was escorted back out of the building and onto the main road. He shook his head and redonned his cap, intent on walking directly back to his home so he could wrangle together some of his co-workers for a big intelligence job.

    However, he was soon distracted by the appearance of an unwelcome girl sitting atop a half-built all by the roadside. Maria Walston-Carter, this time accompanied by two teenage boys and a girl who was wearing the gang¡¯s colour in her front pocket.

    ¡°A happy coincidence! Today has been fortuitous indeed,¡± Maria joked.

    Marco wanted so badly to walk past her and pretend they¡¯d never met ¨C but she reeled him in by dangling a loaded question in front of his face.

    ¡°Did Robert Van Gervan hire you to find those mad magicians?¡±

    Marco had to guess that the gang member hiding behind her was the one who spilt the beans. Maria was infuriating. She was always in the know and never refrained from getting in his way. It was understandable during the Rentree ordeal, but why was she here now?

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so eager to spill your gang¡¯s secrets to a stranger,¡± Marco said to the young girl.

    Kelly was dismissive, ¡°Whatever. She saved me from one of those bloody lunatics, so I did her a favour.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Kelly revealed that the boss was speaking with prospective assistants to help with the assassin problem. It was then that I recalled that you do not know who is ultimately responsible for this series of violent attacks.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not an idiot. It¡¯s Cedric Roderro, he¡¯s been trying to push the gang out of Church Walk for months.¡±

    I wagged my finger at him, ¡°I would not be so hasty, as my friend here can attest, Cedric is in a furious stupor about the whole thing. It¡¯s true that his development project is the catalyst that led to them attacking the Church Street gang ¨C but they are not doing this out of the kindness of their hearts.¡±

    Marco was starting to get frustrated by all of this vague talk. Did it hurt to come out with the truth right from the start? He fiddled with a lock of his hair, ¡°And what would you know about the people responsible for this?¡±

    ¡°Gerard Verner Welt. That was the one name that our friend stated conclusively.¡±

    ¡°Ah, of course ¨C Mister Welt. A mad dog amongst mad dogs.¡±

    ¡°The funny part of this story is that they¡¯re ¡®assisting¡¯ him as a reward for his participation in Lady Rentree¡¯s little scheme. He offered them some tantalizing information. Cordia let it get to her head, and we both know what happened after that.¡±

    Marco never heard his name spoken whilst he was working under them. It must have been important though. They were going above and beyond to try and see his development plan across the finish line, unless they had ulterior motives as Maria said...

    Gerard Verner Welt had a controversial reputation. The monarchists loved him for his forceful oration and strong advocacy for the restoration of the crown, but the moderate members of the faction believed he was an alienating force. He was a name on the lips of every noble influence peddler across the nation.

    What stories weren¡¯t told were more interesting. He had a short temper, was an unmatched snob who made Maria seem humble by comparison and was alleged to have entered a violent confrontation with a fellow MP after he implied that his partner was being unfaithful.

    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s simple. We both want the same result.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not your personal attendant. You aren¡¯t the one paying me.¡±

    ¡°That is true, but you cannot unhear what I said to you.¡±

    Marco turned his eyes to the two boys who were hanging on the edge of their conversation. They tried to look casual and failed miserably.

    ¡°Who are those two?¡±

    ¡°Maxwell Abdah and Adrian Roderro.¡±

    Marco took a second glance. That was who Adrian reminded him of. He looked a lot like his Father and Uncle.

    ¡°This some kind of power play?¡± he asked of Adrian.

    Adrian didn¡¯t mince words; ¡°That idiot has been trying to kill me ever since my Dad got locked up. If that¡¯s the way he wants to do it ¨C then he can¡¯t complain when I hit him back.¡±

    Marco chuckled, ¡°You kids must have gotten a very harsh education on how dirty noble hands can get.¡±

    Maria nodded, ¡°Oh yes. It¡¯s been a very illuminating experience for all of us. I asked Sir Roderro very nicely about who was lending him support, and Verner Welt was the only name he said he knew.¡±

    Marco shuddered to think what ¡®very nicely¡¯ meant in the eyes of the pint-sized psychopath standing in front of him. Why was it that two different raven-haired red-eyed women were running around, both of whom were equally dangerous despite their clear difference in age?

    Marco had to make a difficult calculation. Maria was angling for him to track down Gerard Verner Welt, and that lead may well have been legitimate. There was little established trust between him and her and that was unlikely to change based on any deals they made. What was she getting out of it? Leaving him to do the dirty work would be a load off her shoulders.

    Kelly nudged Adrian in the ribs, ¡°Why are they staring at each other?¡±

    He sighed, ¡°She does this all the time.¡±

    Indeed ¨C such a titanic meeting of the minds would not be resolved promptly or neatly. Marco and Maria were alike in many ways, both being self-described professionals when it came to the art of killing for money. They both believed firmly that everyone acted in their own interests during hard times, and that they were motivated by factors that one could intuit using information and deduction.

    The benefit for Marco was clear. He could leap headfirst into the task of finding the men responsible for dispatching the killers without so much groundwork. Maria could launch another spanner into the works and keep them from advancing their plans.

    Marco decided to play it down the middle.

    ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll see how much truth there is to this Verner Welt claim, and if you¡¯re right I¡¯ll admit as such.¡±

    ¡°It is not a matter of personal pride,¡± Maria tutted, ¡°I would implore you to utilise your due diligence anyway. For all I know Cedric could be simply lying to try and protect himself, though he appears to be caught between both sides of the issue. Welt will not hesitate to be rid of him if he becomes an inconvenience. He has no stake in the development plan.¡±

    ¡°None at all?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen the list of investors and Maxwell¡¯s brother is one of them. It¡¯s all accurate information.¡±

    That would support her assertion that Welt didn¡¯t care about the redevelopment project, but his snobbish side was different. His investment in the project would not necessarily be monetary, but emotional. Welt was a declinist. He earnestly believed that Walser was going down the wrong path, which was easy to claim when you ignored the bad parts of how things used to be.

    Having a poor district like Church Walk in one of Walser¡¯s largest cities would be a thorn in his side. Cleaning it up would show how dictatorial power could ¡®benefit¡¯ people, and by people, he meant affluent noble investors. The rot would be pushed aside to somewhere more easily ignored and the remnants would be gussied up to give off the impression that the problem was solved.

    It was written all over the others¡¯ faces ¨C they were starting to worry that she was giving away too much information for nothing in return. Marco had to laugh at the absurdity of it - a thirteen-year-old noble with the face of a sickeningly sweet cherub trying to manipulate him.

    ¡°Okay. I see how it is, and you aren¡¯t going to be sitting here waiting for their next move either?¡±

    ¡°No. Good luck.¡±

    Maria abruptly turned and walked away with her three companions in pursuit. Marco was left standing with his proverbial pants bundled around his ankles. No time for argument or interrogation. She gave him her thoughts and got out of there once she was satisfied.

    Gerard Verner Welt...

    Would Robert be angry if he went back and asked for more than all of the money he had?

 Chapter 127

    With the knowledge in hand that the assassins were utilising hallucinogenic compounds to mentally condition their servants, Veronica departed to perform some good old-fashioned casework. WISA would press Michael for more information and then slap him with murder charges, so long as they took long enough to stay well out of her way it didn¡¯t impact her investigation.

    Being a WISA agent offered a lot of legal powers that most citizens would be shocked to learn about. A protective information gathering order was just one of many different tools that an agent had at their disposal.

    For example, the concept of a ¡®warrant¡¯ was a relatively recent legal invention, at least when compared to the long and dark history of Walser¡¯s secret police. A WISA agent had free rein to order any individual or company to open their personal property for a search, and refusal was as good as refusing a real warrant issued by a court. Not a smart idea if one wanted to avoid being fined heavily or found in legal contempt.

    However, Veronica didn¡¯t have to dispense one of those informal warrants to get what she wanted. She was already well acquainted with the biggest legal drug suppliers in the city. Medical compounds and other substances were imported from abroad, or from further South, and then dispensed through a logistical network that was large enough to make her head spin.

    There were stringent legal requirements for tracking where those goods went and what they were being used for. The criminal gangs in Walser¡¯s urban areas also avoided tangling with those types of drugs, focusing instead on ones that could be sourced locally and used recreationally. There was a brief outbreak of painkillers being abused after the Civil War, but those numbers plummeted after a widespread intervention campaign that focused on assisting veterans.

    So, if she were in the shoes of a monarchist trying to slip some under the noses of the authorities, the fastest route to do that would be to register a new medical company in the city and start buying them. Veronica could spot a shell company from a mile away. To their credit ¨C the monarchists weren¡¯t that stupid.

    Veronica¡¯s credit only went so far though. It might have been enough to keep her from scrying the list of newly formed companies from the past year or two for any that looked suspect, but it was actually much easier for her to cross-reference her personal list of known collaborators with news articles and business papers filed at the local business administration office.

    As luck would have it, Benedict Rentree had purchased a local private practice in that time period ¨C and suddenly their financial reports were stating that the formerly small doctors were now purchasing a significantly higher quantity of goods required for running the business. He certainly didn¡¯t let the recent death of his distant relation slow him down any...

    Veronica checked out the place as soon as she could that very day ¨C but there was nothing unusual about the premises. A steady stream of customers and employees came and went as they always did. There was even a little sign in the window stating they were under new ownership.

    Benedict Rentree was not known for his interest in the healthcare industry, but he was known for being one of the most virulent monarchists amongst an already fanatical group. He would often use his clout to espouse his pro-monarchy opinions in whatever newspaper was mad enough to take him on as a guest column writer.

    Veronica was overly familiar with all of this type. Staring at incident reports and intelligence notes was enough to drive a woman insane, but it did make names stick out in the mind when they cropped up again. Benedict was funnelling drugs from his new clinic into the hands of the killers. That was her working theory.

    Veronica bit the bullet and flashed her badge to the receptionist, asking to see the person in charge of the clinic. All it took was an authoritative-sounding explanation of her reason for being there to get a pass. She was promptly escorted up the stairs and into a small office where the lead Doctor was finishing some paperwork of his own.

    ¡°There¡¯s a policewoman here to see you, Doctor.¡±

    ¡°I hope it¡¯s not for anything that I¡¯ve done lately,¡± he joked.

    Veronica adopted a serious persona and asked a series of simple questions. They were all easy for him to answer. Had he seen any reports of things going missing from the clinic lately? What did he think of the new owners? Were they planning on expanding outwards and acquiring more?

    Leading him down that path led to some very revealing information. The discretion required by their scheme meant that the Doctor in charge of the clinic had no idea what he was saying. From his perspective, Rentree had merely purchased a small commercial lot in a nearby area to store more medicine.

    Under the guise of some vague questioning, she quickly got what she wanted to hear, and the Doctor thought nothing of it, the good authority-fearing man that he was. Veronica thanked him for his time and left within the hour to find out where this new clinic was supposed to be.

    It took some effort. Despite the Doctor giving her an address, it was obvious that he hadn¡¯t actually visited the building despite having that information. Veronica was led on a wild goose chase as she observed several featureless brick boxes that were supposedly the business premises she was looking for. None of them seemed to be open to the public.

    There weren¡¯t any workers in the area either. All of the buildings were being used as storage space. Veronica decided not to waste any more time and investigate in a more unorthodox manner. Once she was happy that she had the correct doorway ¨C she picked the lock by raking it. Security was awful despite the large quantity of valuable goods inside of them.

    But the answer was simple. The other buildings were storing non-valuable materials. They were owned by local construction firms and other manual labour-driven businesses. Bricks, cement, timber ¨C not the type of thing that a criminal would want to steal. They were heavy, cheap and difficult to justify risking jail time for.

    This was security through obscurity. They were storing the drugs in an unsecured warehouse in a poorer area of the city because it was supposedly a bad idea. Nobody in their right mind would suggest doing so if the clinic was on the up and up. If they were attempting to hide a relay point between a legitimate Doctor¡¯s office and an illegal assassin¡¯s coven, then it was a different story.

    The door opened and a rush of dust was kicked up. Veronica covered her nose and mouth while stepping through. The interior of the building was not a buffet of visual delights either. It was a dark, cramped space filled with as many boxes as could realistically fit.

    Veronica used her trained eye to sort through the various crates. She plunged deeper into the building, moving them aside so that she could uncover what lay within the depths. It was clear that this property wasn¡¯t being used for anything but storage.

    Each box had a label stuck to it. A vast majority of the drugs inside the warehouse were common remedies that the office would dispense regularly to a large number of customers. There were also other non-perishable supplies like bandages and splints.

    What did catch her eye was a crate without any markings at all. There was a patch of white residue where the label had been removed. She pulled the lid aside and checked what was contained within.

    Ferdinol.

    Veronica smiled, ¡°There¡¯s my hallucinogen...¡±

    Ferdinol was an old painkiller that fell out of use with newer, cheaper and more effective options. It was derived from a classical Walserian remedy. The strongest and most well-known property of ferdinol was its ability to make the subject incredibly suggestive. It also could be stored in a room-temperature area without spoiling.

    Some WISA agents swore by using ferdinol during their interrogations, although Veronica believed that it made them more likely to spout a load of nonsense. It was much better when used to direct someone to take a physical action. Combine it with a compound that stoked increased levels of aggression and you¡¯d create an effect like the one that afflicted Michael during his incarceration.

    Veronica closed it again and checked the crates that surrounded it for other unlabelled ones. The small storage space was stuffed full of crates upon crates of the stuff, more than any clinic would realistically need before they expired. She was struck fearful by the potential scale of the operation they were running.

    ¡°They must have hundreds and hundreds of those people, ready to kill on command.¡±

    They wouldn¡¯t need to drug all of them. Monarchists were being radicalized at an increasingly untenable pace. Finding enough of them to act as a personal army would not be difficult with their resources.

    ¡°Hey! Who¡¯s in there?¡±

    Veronica slammed the box shut and dusted off her dress. She navigated her way back through the maze and found a man wearing coveralls waiting by the door for her. He was there to pick up one of the boxes and deliver it to the clinic.

    ¡°You, do you work for the clinic?¡± Veronica asked.

    ¡°Why the heck are you asking me questions lady? Did you break into here? I¡¯m gonna¡¯ get the cop from the station and turn you in.¡±

    She silenced his complaints by showing him her badge.

    ¡°I¡¯m asking the questions. Do you work here?¡±

    He leaned in to get a closer look at the badge. For a person on the street it was impossible to tell the difference between a regular detective¡¯s badge and the one that the WISA agents used, but there were small marks that distinguished them and made police officers crap their briefs at the sign of it. They were technically meant to operate in secret even as a public agency.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked again.

    ¡°It says right there. I¡¯m Officer Gladwell. I¡¯ve been investigating a recent case, and I¡¯d appreciate your cooperation. A few questions and I¡¯ll be out of your hair post haste.¡±

    Veronica could see the subtle ways in which his face twisted. He was starting to panic internally. The twitch in his brow, the dilation of his eyes, and the frown teasing the corners of his mouth. He had a terrible poker face. She could read him like an open book.

    ¡°I really can¡¯t answer any of your questions, Ma¡¯am.¡±

    Veronica escorted the man out into the yard, but stuck close to the door so that they could have some shelter from the rain that was coming down.

    ¡°Does the clinic use Ferdinol as a painkiller these days? I thought that they moved on to more economical alternatives.¡±

    He shook his head, ¡°They always take a lot of pride in doing things the old way. Head Doctor over there still thinks it¡¯s the best painkiller on the market.¡±

    Veronica made sure that he knew she was not convinced by that cover story. She hummed under her breath and gave him an impatient glare.

    ¡°Interesting. I suppose there is value in sticking to what you¡¯re familiar with ¨C but it appears to me that you have amounts of the stuff far in excess of what a small clinic would use.¡±

    He quickly tried to close the door on her line of questioning; ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know. They pay me to carry boxes, not figure out how much medicine they need.¡±

    Veronica wasn¡¯t sure if it was the rain or a bead of cold sweat running down the side of his face. He was not comfortable with where this conversation was going. She kept silent for a painfully long period to belabour the point.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°My name?¡± he muttered, ¡°Harry.¡±

    ¡°Harry. I understand that you might be worried about speaking with a good officer of the law unprompted, but you shouldn¡¯t be! I only have your best interest at heart. So I hope you appreciate how disappointed I am at these little whites lies you keep telling me.¡±

    The hammer dropped, as did his face, Harry was in a very tough spot indeed.

    ¡°I already said what I know. You can check the papers. They order this stuff from a legit importer across town. All the paperwork is clean, and they¡¯re not selling it on to gang members or addicts, or anything like that.¡±

    ¡°The man I spoke with a few hours ago has a different perspective on where all of this ferdinol is going. He was doped to the gills with it, and the clinic you¡¯re working for was bought a few months ago by Mister Rentree, and at the same time it started importing more ferdinol than it could ever hope to use.¡±

    The walls were closing in and Harry knew he was stuck in the middle of them. He was going to be crushed if he didn¡¯t tell her what she wanted, but that came with it¡¯s own risks. Harry wasn¡¯t being paid a special wage for keeping his mouth shut. His arrangement with the clinic was all stick and no carrot. With that in mind, he tried to play on her sense of mercy.

    He held up his hands, ¡°T-They said if I told anyone, they¡¯d kill me.¡±

    ¡°I can do a lot worse than that,¡± Veronica warned, ¡°It¡¯s your choice. Tell the truth, or get locked up in a cell for obstruction of justice. Where are they taking this ferdinol?¡±

    The threat of incarceration finally motivated him to speak,

    ¡°The Old Paxton Slaughterhouse on the edge of town, on the corner of Weller Road. It¡¯s a twenty-minute trip from here! When I started working for ¡®em, they took us over there to make the first delivery, but after that, they stopped asking us to do it. They brought in somebody else.¡±

    ¡°Somebody else? They swing by and grab a few crates of the stuff?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. I swear. I don¡¯t know anything more than that.¡±

    ¡°When did they threaten you?¡±

    ¡°After they stopped us from running the route. They had a proper argument about it, said that we weren¡¯t allowed to run it, and if we talked to anyone else about what happened they¡¯d bury us six feet under.¡±

    Veronica stepped away and allowed him to breathe again.

    ¡°This better be the unfiltered truth, Harry. If it¡¯s not, I¡¯ll be down here again with a real warrant, and we¡¯ll be taking every crate of this stuff out of here and keeping it locked down.¡±

    The threat was implicit but real. Harry could stake his life on the authenticity of his statements, or stake his life on being held responsible for their drug supply going missing. There was only one answer to give.

    ¡°It¡¯s true. I swear on my bloody life it is.¡±

    Veronica nodded, ¡°Alright then. You can go back to what you were doing.¡±

    Harry averted his eyes and turned back to the door.

    ¡°One more thing - I suggest you go and find a new job.¡±

    Veronica didn¡¯t stick around to hear his response.

    <hr>

    The Paxton Slaughterhouse on the corner of Weller Road was not the type of haunt that Veronica would visit willingly. It was an ugly metal box parked in the middle of a developing residential district ¨C surrounded on all sides by tall fencing that did nothing to beautify the area.

    Emblazoned on a piece of rusted red metal was the name and logo of the company that owned the building. Paxton was a large food processing company that had factories and facilities across the country. Once upon a time this Paxton Slaughterhouse would have been in the countryside, away from any homes and in a prime location to accept live animals from the nearby farming villages.

    The rapid urbanization of the East Coast¡¯s twin cities put a stop to all of that. The ever-increasing demands of new residents, who wanted homes and services, meant that the area was rapidly being swamped by places designed for people to live in. A slaughterhouse was the antithesis of that. They were loud, smelly and unpleasant.

    They pre-empted the complaints and shuttered active work at the site, moving the entire production line further away from the city. They never bothered to remove the branding from it though, and attempts to find a new purpose for the site were consistently beset by issues.

    It still enjoyed some separation from the surrounding homes. It rested at the end of a winding dirt road that was connected to the cobbled artery that travelled through the area. It was clumsily placed in the middle of a big empty field, and only the minimum efforts to keep the grass from overgrowing had been made.

    Butchering a cow here would be problematic ¨C but it was a discrete place for activities that weren¡¯t as loud or foul-smelling as industrial-scale animal slaughter. Veronica stalked around the outer edge of the main building in search of any signs of human activity. Fresh cart tracks could still be seen trailing through the dirt. There were no workers present at the building from what she could see.

    In fact, they¡¯d even left one of the doors open. Veronica tried every door until she found one that they had forgotten to close in their haste. It led through into one of the loading areas, and from there she could access any part of the building. She drew her pistol and started to slowly progress through the utility area.

    It was going to have to be a thorough search of every room she could find. She had no expectations of finding any evidence, but it was standard practice to exhaust every possible angle before moving on.

    Point of interest number one; a small table that was placed against the wall by the office on the right. There were empty bottles of booze, an ashtray filled with rubbish, and a set of playing cards left splayed across the surface. Someone had been here recently.

    Veronica checked for written notes but found nothing.

    She pressed forth onto the former factory floor. It was a large, mostly empty space. All of the stalls and machines, and whatever else the slaughterhouse used had been moved away a long time ago. What remained was a neglected conveyor belt straddling the middle of the room. Even years after it ceased operating the smell of blood was still strong. It was baked into the tiles and walls. The entire place smelt like iron.

    Point of interest number two; there was a large, circular scorch mark on the floor in front of her. It was positioned beneath one of the windows in the roof, which would be opened to let fresh air into the building, and the stink out into the surrounding neighbourhood.

    Veronica spoke to herself, ¡°They were burning something. Documents?¡±

    It wouldn¡¯t be a shock. Criminal enterprises burnt incriminating documents all the time. If they were operating out of the slaughterhouse and felt pressure to move, then they would have had to have disposed of what was left before they did.

    Veronica made the long tedious walk around the entire workspace, keeping her eyes firmly locked onto the ground so that she could search for other pieces of evidence. She eventually came across the pens where the live animals would be kept before their date with the reaper. They hadn¡¯t been removed like the machines. They were sturdy metal frames embedded into the floor.

    They were open, and there were signs that the previous residents were using them for something. She stepped through into it and found point of interest number three. A loud cracking noise jolted her nerves. Her foot had crushed an unseen glass vial to pieces. She reached into her pocket and donned her leather gloves.

    Veronica knelt down and took one of the still-intact glass syringes into her palm, holding it up to what faint light came through the narrow windows in the roof. It was an empty Ferdinol needle. They all were. There were two dozen of them scattered onto the floor.

    ¡°Bring them here, drug them out of their minds, send them off to cause carnage...¡±

    Morbid. Veronica put the syringe back down and dusted off her hands. They didn¡¯t bother to clean up the mess once they decided to move. They must have felt that the trail wouldn¡¯t lead back to them.

    Her mind was putting together the pieces as she continued to stalk the empty halls. They couldn¡¯t have used this place for long, it was more suitable as a front to smuggle the killers and the weapons they needed into the city. A staging area perhaps. Condition, modify and train them somewhere remote and bring them here so they could be given their instructions and deployed as needed.

    There was that sinking feeling she hated.

    Veronica suspected that this was bigger than Frankfort was ready to admit. This wasn¡¯t a handful of assassins being prepared to kill a small number of targets. This was a template that they could replicate across the country. Outposts and safehouses where they could be stored, enraged using drugs, and then released to do their bidding.

    They could exert large amounts of violent pressure on the government, all with the aim of restoring the monarchy to its full power. The King would never accept that type of poisoned chalice ¨C but there were plenty of ambitious fools in his house who would gladly drink from it for a chance at momentary glory. A legacy defined by shearing the nation clean in two.

    Benedict Rentree had to be apprehended and questioned as soon as possible.

    She marched out of the pens and back onto the main floor. There was no time to waste. She had good cause to arrest Benedict and ask him why his clinic was shipping vials of drugs to an abandoned slaughterhouse.

    But then she stopped.

    Her nose crinkled. There was an awful smell emanating from a disposal chute at the end of the line.

    The stench of it.

    Veronica gagged. The rotting guts of disembowelled animal carcasses overpowered every bit of her composure, but it was so much worse than that. Putrid, foul - there weren¡¯t words she could use to describe it. There was something else lurking in that disposal unit. Against her better judgment, she approached and unlatched it.

    Peering out from the slurry was a face.

    ¡°Goddess above!¡± she hissed.

    A human face.

    Horribly burnt and scarred until nigh unrecognizable. His skin was charred coal black. His body had been awkwardly forced into the waste disposal and left to rot. Veronica slammed the lid shut and moved away as quickly as she could. She felt sick. The burn marks on the floor, they left him where he dropped and tried to burn the body.

    Benedict was in for a world of trouble now.

    Before she could reach the exit, she heard voices coming from outside.

    ¡°Are you sure you saw someone sneaking in here?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re here to watch out for,¡± a second voice replied.

    ¡°It¡¯ll probably just be some homeless bum again.¡±

    ¡°And if it isn¡¯t, he¡¯s going to nail us to the bloody wall. Better safe than sorry.¡±

    Veronica ducked into an alcove and concealed her body from view. The sliding door at the front of the loading bay opened, allowing light to flood into the area. A group of three men stood there and inspected the surroundings.

    The third man laughed, ¡°You know, I¡¯d be happy if we did find a copper sticking their nose into this place. It means we haven¡¯t wasted two days sitting in the dark with thumbs up our arses.¡±

    ¡°Cut the chatter. We¡¯re meant to take ¡®em by surprise, remember?¡±

    The group went quiet, but if Veronica had her way ¨C soon they¡¯d be singing like a flock of canaries.

 Chapter 128

    After a high-tension meeting with Marco, we decided to part ways with Kelly and take a break at a nearby restaurant to eat. Adrian quickly excused himself from the table and hurried to the bathroom. I was left alone with Max ¨C who from where I was sitting remained the most enigmatic member of the main cast.

    Sure, I knew stuff about Max based on my faint recollection of the game, but I learned the hard way that I couldn¡¯t assume that it was an accurate picture of the person I was now familiar with. This was a ¡®reality¡¯ of some description and Max was more than a scattershot selection of character traits designed to appeal to an audience of female gamers.

    What drove him was a mystery. He was here because he wanted to keep his brother away from trouble as a part of the regeneration plan, but unlike Adrian, he was more hesitant to use extreme measures to make that happen. His opinion of me was also an unknown factor.

    Claude was doing his usual schtick, Samantha wanted to be friends despite her misgivings, and Adrian was on my side since I elected to help him in a desperate situation, but Max didn¡¯t have a strong reason to go along with whatever I told him to do. The friction was obvious.

    ¡°This is what you do away from the academy then? Buddying up with hired killers and engaging in corporate espionage.¡±

    ¡°Do you believe that a thirteen-year-old girl has the time to waste doing that? I¡¯ve spent more time learning table manners than worrying about this sort of thing.¡±

    Speaking of friction, Max was the only person in my orbit who seemed to note the significant differences in my behaviour depending on whether I was staying in character or not. It was challenging to do under duress, and sometimes I found my accent and vocabulary slipping back.

    ¡°I¡¯m not even going to ask. You¡¯ve been stonewalling Sam on this for months already.¡±

    ¡°I said to her what I will say to you now ¨C you already have the most consequential secret on offer. Most people would see no reason to look beyond what you know about me.¡±

    Max refrained from saying the word ¡®murder¡¯ out loud but the subject of our conversation was obvious to him. Even cloaked in the veil of self-defence, that information being revealed to the wider public could be potentially ruinous for my reputation, and the future of the Walston-Carter family.

    ¡°That¡¯s a load of rubbish. What good is that to me if I¡¯m not planning on trying to ruin your life? I just want to understand what makes you tick. For all I know you could turn that gun on us and shoot us in the back at any second.¡±

    ¡°I would have thought that previous incidents would dispel that kind of anxiety.¡±

    ¡°Not really. I saw a different kind of expression on your face back during that punch-up with your mother, it made me wonder how in control you actually are. There has to be a screw loose in your head to do stuff like that.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps there is, but that does not mean that I am without reason. Have I ever responded to a situation in an inappropriate manner before?¡±

    Max conceded that to me, ¡°I can¡¯t say you overreacted, no. I¡¯m still worried about this one. It¡¯s not safe to be dealing with criminals.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good for us. Marco has a network of spies who feed information back to him, and if the price is no object, then he won¡¯t be afraid to run up a hefty bill by using their services.¡±

    Max sighed and hushed his voice, ¡°Good for us? He¡¯s a bloody murderer. He tried to kill your Uncle.¡±

    ¡°As distasteful as that is ¨C we have to focus on the outcomes rather than getting bogged down in the methodology. My assessment is that sending Marco in Welt¡¯s direction will be advantageous to us.¡±

    ¡°But what if it gets him killed?¡±

    I stared at him for an uncomfortably long time.

    ¡°Problem solved.¡±

    Max glared, ¡°No, no. That¡¯s not ¡®problem solved¡¯ at all! We don¡¯t even know if he¡¯s really the one behind this yet! What if Cedric was lying to us? It¡¯s going to end up with an innocent man being killed.¡±

    ¡°There are very few innocent men once you get to that age, Max. I¡¯m not relying on Marco killing Welt, but it is a calculated risk. I find it unlikely that Marco would invest all of his blood, sweat and tears into killing him if he wasn¡¯t certain that he had something to do with it.¡±

    ¡°A lot of faith in a hired killer,¡± Max muttered, ¡°Why the hell are we even in this situation anyway? I had no idea that Muwah was tangled up with this kind of bad crowd.¡±

    ¡°This is reality. There are a lot of nobles who do not fear the consequences of their actions, who do not baulk at the concept of what may be perceived as ill-mannered or illegal. When money, prestige and legacy are to be curried ¨C then they will spare no quarter in trying to claim them.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame my brother for this.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± I snapped, ¡°Your brother has not submerged himself in that sort of moral swamp. His only sin was not having a discerning eye for what he was investing in. I imagine that many of his other investors are in a similar situation.¡±

    ¡°Muwah isn¡¯t stupid. He¡¯s a lot smarter than he looks.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s always smiling, trying to light up the atmosphere around our home, but he always impressed our father through his decision-making skills. He always says that Muwah inherited that instinct for business from our great grandfather.¡±

    I took my cup of tea and enjoyed a long drink. I couldn¡¯t recall if Muwah was ever mentioned by name in the original game. I did remember that Maxwell¡¯s character was very family-focused, so it may have been a possibility.

    ¡°It is a cold comfort, but I suspect that Muwah will be unscathed even if the matter turns for the worse. He has only invested his money and time, and not his morality.¡±

    ¡°He is staying away from the city for the next week. If we can be done with this by then, then there won¡¯t be any reason to worry.¡±

    Adrian made his belated return from the bathroom and sat down at the table with us. He grabbed one of the pastries from the selection and shoved it into his mouth in one go. He chewed it for exactly ten seconds and swallowed it whole.

    ¡°What are we going to do about Welt?¡± he mumbled.

    As convenient as it would be for Marco to solve all of my problems - that simply was not going to happen. Durandia brought me into this world to be the difference-maker, and setting him upon my foes like a rabid dog was not something that only I could do with my specialised skill set.

    ¡°I could simply... ask him for a meeting,¡± I proposed.

    ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±

    ¡°Gerard Verner Welt is the type of man who must be interested in surrounding himself with powerful allies and supporters, and who better to curry favour with than the only child and heir apparent to a large manufacturing empire? I could express mock sympathy for the Van Walser family and have him begging on my doorstep within the hour.¡±

    Max pinched the bridge of his nose, ¡°Surely he has an army of avid supporters already, would he be interested in adding one more?¡±

    ¡°He has many supporters, but there is one key piece to the puzzle that he lacks. The King. The King has no intent on restoring the powers of the monarchy at the moment, he feels strongly that it would be the fastest way to have what¡¯s left stripped from their house.¡±

    ¡°Who are they trying to put onto the throne if not him?¡±

    ¡°Anyone willing to fulfil their rampant ambition. The Van Walser cadet branches are filled with hundreds of such people with increasingly weak claims to the throne. They may be an acceptably royal individual for Welt ¨C but those cadet branches are not exactly flush with money. The King still holds the vast majority of the family¡¯s finances under lock and key.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying he wants someone from inside the Van Walser houses, and nobles like us to pay the bills he incurs in trying to put one of them onto the throne?¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Nobles also provide legitimacy and stability to any new government. Winning them over to his side is essential to the plan.¡±

    Adrian stopped gorging on the cake for long enough to offer a suggestion, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t I work better as the bait? I know your family is richer than mine ¨C but you¡¯re only an heiress right now, I¡¯m actually in charge. I could get him the money he wants right away.¡±

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Yes, you would. The problem is that I want to be there to investigate our theory of him being the one directing those maddened killers. He would ask too many questions if I accompanied you to any meeting.¡±

    There was another problem with that plan too. Welt and the monarchists were working with Cedric because he was second in line to get his hands on the family fortune. They were hoping that an unfortunate accident would occur that would leave the empire in his hands. If Adrian started to express interest in joining their secret club ¨C then they¡¯d have no reason to keep him around.

    I doubted that Cedric would ever cease trying to cheat Adrian out of his inheritance, but Adrian was unwilling to kill him to make it stop. He acted tough, but acting tough and having it happen for real were two very different experiences. That bravado would turn to guilt soon enough.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know where that meeting would happen,¡± Max hummed, ¡°It¡¯s not going to be in his home or office, that¡¯s for sure. How much information could you gather in that case?¡±

    I put my foot down before the hypotheticals could spin up any further.

    ¡°We have another week before the next term. I¡¯m going to send Welt a letter this evening and see what he says. I imagine he¡¯ll rush to arrange a meeting.¡±

    Adrian pouted. He thought he was onto something there, but it was too risky for me to go along with. There was no reason for him to put more skin in the game with Cedric already on notice.

    Max was in concurrence, ¡°It probably is safer to let you do it.¡±

    ¡°Very well then. Let¡¯s call it a day and reconvene when there¡¯s a new development.¡±

    Adrian looked down at the leftover pastries, ¡°Can I eat the rest of these first?¡±

    ¡°...Yes?¡±

    Adrian grabbed another piece. I never knew he loved cake so much.

    <hr>

    Veronica was starting to get overly familiar with the corner she was hiding in.

    It was obvious that these three men were being paid to watch out for any police officers investigating the killings. However, the ominous reality of being a WISA agent was that probable cause was more of a suggestion than a hard rule. There were some people in the office who would essentially rampage their way through a case without asking questions first.

    Veronica was a ¡®by-the-book¡¯ type, even though she was brought up during a period where there was even less oversight than there was now. It was a matter of pride for her to put a clear narrative into place. It was those kinds of agents who made her feel a desire for professional redemption.

    They weren¡¯t paying attention to her. They thought she was hiding in the main room and not the loading area. They marched towards the main doors, passing her and exposing their backs.

    Veronica seized the opportunity and leapt from her hiding place, taking all three of the guards by surprise. The one at the back of the group drew a pistol from his jacket and tried to spin around to face her, but Veronica reached out and gripped his wrist, seizing it with enough force to make him drop it to the ground.

    The next member of the group tried to do the same. Veronica took her new hostage by the neck and stepped forward, shoving the business end of her pistol against the back of his head and causing him to freeze in place.

    ¡°Drop it.¡±

    The gun clattered to the floor and Veronica kicked it away so that none of the men could grab it and fight back. She then forced her hostage down onto his knees by the loading dock.

    ¡°On your knees, hands behind your backs.¡±

    They hesitated ¨C so Veronica made sure to pull the lever of the gun in earshot so that they got the picture of what would happen if they didn¡¯t comply. They did. All three knelt on the floor and allowed Veronica to cuff them while they faced the wall.

    The ¡®fight¡¯ was over in seconds. Veronica paced back and forth in front of them. What an odd series of events. She was being sent from pillar to post today, normally it would take weeks of hard graft to get results this good. Frankfort always called her crazy for carrying too many handcuffs. Who was laughing now?

    ¡°This bitch is out of her bloody mind!¡± one of the men complained.

    ¡°I have probable cause to apprehend all three of you,¡± Veronica mused, ¡°I could have done much worse than cuffing you and forcing you to sit on your knees.¡±

    ¡°Stop talking. She¡¯s a bloody cop.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t very nice of him.

    ¡°Which one of you is in charge?¡±

    The three men kneeling in front of her all resisted taking responsibility. They were like a trio of children being scolded by their mother for playing in the street. Confident that none of them were willing to take on the role, Veronica moved to the next question.

    ¡°Who¡¯s paying you? Paxton? Rentree? I want a name.¡±

    Veronica was impressed that this unwashed lot hadn¡¯t cracked at the slightest scrutiny. That was how this tended to go. These people were at the bottom of the ladder, paid whatever scraps were left over and pushed to do the dirty jobs. Even her brandishing a gun wasn¡¯t making them think twice.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you appreciate what kind of situation you¡¯re in.¡±

    Veronica took the butt of her pistol and cracked the left-most man in the nose with it, busting it open and causing a gush of blood to pour down his chest and onto his legs. The other two recoiled at the sudden outburst of violence. The man gasped for air as the blood blocked his airways.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need a warrant, or permission, from you or anyone else to be here. I could shoot all three of you dead right now and they wouldn¡¯t bat an eye at finding your corpses. I suggest you answer my questions promptly, or I¡¯ll pin that dead body back there on you.¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡± the bloodied goon gasped. He couldn¡¯t raise his arms to try and stem the bleeding. He had to kneel there and wallow in his own viscera.

    ¡°What a load of crap. You won¡¯t kill us. They¡¯ll have your badge!¡±

    Veronica responded by pressing the barrel of her gun against the forehead of the man with the shattered nose.

    ¡°You are gambling with your friend¡¯s life. I¡¯m not going to kill you - but him - if you don¡¯t answer my questions. I only need one of you alive. What were you using this building for?¡±

    The man in the middle persisted, ¡°We¡¯re guards. We¡¯re only here to keep the kids from burning the place down! They asked us to scare away people and stop them from breaking in or damaging it.¡±

    ¡°The body in the disposal area, is that one of the kids you¡¯re talking about?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about a dead body,¡± he implored.

    Veronica hit his friend again, causing him to slump over onto the ground in a pool of his own blood.

    ¡°You walked into this room and declared that you were going to prevent any police officers from figuring out what was going on. It¡¯s obvious to me that you¡¯re all part and parcel of this criminal conspiracy. This is your final chance before I get angry. Did you keep people here against their will? There are ferdinol syringes everywhere.¡±

    ¡°I... I don¡¯t know nothing.¡±

    Veronica allowed his denial to hover in the stale, iron-tinged air. Both of his companions started to squirm and second-guess his decision. They were the ones who were going to bear the brunt of her wrath. Veronica approached the prone man, still attempting to lift his dazed head up from the floor, and raised one of her boot-clad feet high into the air.

    With a sickening crunch, she brought it down on the back of his skull. The front of his already-busted face met the bloodied floor below. Not enough to be fatal ¨C but enough to show his friends that she was entirely serious about culling two of them as an example to the sole survivor.

    The man on the right cracked first.

    ¡°Don¡¯t kill me! I¡¯ll tell you, just don¡¯t kill me!¡±

    The man in the middle was furious; ¡°Don¡¯t be a bloody idiot!¡±

    ¡°Shut up! You¡¯re not the one who¡¯s going to get murdered over it!¡±

    Some people saw having three hostages to question as an inconvenience, Veronica wondered why they never thought to try and pit them against one another. He turned to face her and desperately started to spill whatever information he could; ¡°Rentree! It was Rentree, he was the one who sent us here!¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°He said that we had to scare off any police that came sniffing around the place, buy them enough time to move everything to a new spot!¡±

    ¡°This was an outpost for the project. Did they keep the assassins here?¡±

    ¡°Assassins?¡± he echoed.

    ¡°The ones you¡¯ve been pumping full with that ferdinol, you miserly git!¡±

    He nodded frantically, ¡°Y-Yeah, they kept ¡®em here.¡±

    ¡°And do you know where they are now?¡±

    He shook his head; ¡°They didn¡¯t tell us. Said it was for operational security and all that. They rotate us out every so often, there¡¯ll be a new batch of blokes doing the heavy lifting there now.¡±

    ¡°Are there any other names I should know about? Who is Rentree working with?¡±

    ¡°They try to keep all of that quiet. Paxton wasn¡¯t involved. Rentree¡¯s name was the only one that came up. He leased this old building from him but didn¡¯t say what it was for.¡±

    The stubborn one in the middle finally wizened up and realised that he was being sold down the river by his friend and that there wouldn¡¯t be much left for him to insulate himself with if he let him keep talking. He interrupted and tried to add his own commentary.

    ¡°They said that it was a national security project, but that Verner Welt bloke has his fingerprints all over it and he¡¯s a bloody MP.¡±

    ¡°Gerard Verner Welt?¡±

    ¡°I overheard his name being used by the lads in charge. Sounded to me like he was the one calling the shots, telling Rentree to lease places to keep the products stored and ready for work.¡±

    ¡°And who gave the orders to send them out? It couldn¡¯t have been them.¡±

    ¡°No, not them. They have people like us for that stuff. The one in charge, Jennis, went with them to the next spot, but he was the one who told us when to use the ferdinol and prep ¡®em for a show.¡±

    His friend returned to the story, ¡°Yeah. Jennis would come bursting in, tell us to dope those guys up, then he¡¯d give them their orders. They¡¯d let them out into the city, and they would come back here once they were done. Jennis said that they needed to kill as many Church Street gang members as possible, at least until Rentree got worried about being compromised. He ordered us to pack it up and empty this place by the end of the day.¡±

    Wasn¡¯t that the most revealing set of testimony she¡¯d ever heard?

    Veronica finally stepped back from the grievously injured man on the left and gave them some room to breathe and get their stories straight. Low-ranking members in the criminal hierarchy were not to be underestimated, they could be precious sources of information if the people in charge were sloppy with letting conversations leak out.

    It only took the mention of one or two names to bring the whole structure crashing down. Names were easy to remember, they stuck out in the recollection like billowing red flags. Both of the conscious men were of one mind about the claim that Rentree and Verner Welt were directing the operation.

    Welt was an obvious answer ¨C but sometimes the obvious answers were obvious for a good reason. WISA had a file on him that was so large it almost took an entire filing cabinet to store. Trying to map out the network of connections between domestic conspiracies involving monarchists would inevitably end with him as the centre point.

    The hired guns never saw Rentree or Welt in person. Orders were handed down through a chain of command to separate them from the crimes at issue. It was smart enough, but with two different people offering a story about their involvement she could apprehend them both for questioning. Jennis sounded like an important person of interest too.

    Before she could leap into the fun part, there was custodial work to take care of. Her new friends would need to be sent down to the nearest jailhouse so that a written statement could be taken and charges filed for their knowledge about the body, on top of their other offences.

    Where Verner Welt was haunting at the moment was another problem to solve. He was a man who travelled from each end of the country on any given day. If his home wasn¡¯t the right spot to catch him, then it would be impossible to guess where he was hiding. Luckily WISA had an exceedingly broad surveillance network, with informants and spies digging up dirt on demand.

    ¡°You¡¯ve earned a stay of execution. A reward for a pair of well-behaved boys.¡±

    The third? He required medical attention.

 Chapter 129

    The Grand Rose was the most exclusive dining establishment in the twin cities. From the outside, it was decorated in a lavish mixture of aged wood, red paint and golden trim. Its architecture dominated the corner of the street where it was located, drawing the eye. Just as many people visited to stand in awe of the building as they did to go inside and spend a month¡¯s wage on an expensive meal.

    It was the favourite establishment of many political figures and nobles. There were invite-only evenings that were intended to give them an additional layer of privacy, but even on open days, there were enough free seats to speak openly without fear of being overheard.

    In the back corner of the establishment rested a booth that was used only by the most prestigious guests. For the staff who worked there ¨C it was more commonly known as the Welt table, because Gerard Verner Welt always requested it specifically. Today was yet another example, with several paid security guards investigating the building while Welt relaxed and enjoyed the elevated privacy.

    Both the staff at the Grand Rose and his personal entourage were surprised when he declared that he was holding an important meeting the next morning. It was very rare for something to catch his eye and spur him into impulsive action, but his right-hand man assumed it had to do with the letter that arrived at the manor an hour before the declaration.

    There were so many letters that passed through that his home had its own postal sorting office near the front gate. The only time Welt would personally separate a letter and read it himself was when a family seal was used to mark the envelope. With the stage set, his guards on point, and his guest of honour on the way ¨C Welt indulged in an early drink.

    He needn¡¯t have waited long for the guest of honour to arrive.

    He stood from the table and waited at the foot of the stairs to greet them, as was common courtesy, with a smile on his face and arms folded neatly in front. Welt was intent on making an extremely positive first impression given what was at stake. Making a new ¡®friend¡¯ here could pay dividends in the near future.

    The door opened and his dining partner entered with a firm look of determination in their eyes.

    ¡°Mister Roderro! How nice to finally meet you face-to-face.¡±

    Adrian put on his best polite smile, which wasn¡¯t very good, and bowed his head.

    ¡°Good morning, Sir Welt. I wasn¡¯t expecting to hear from you so soon.¡±

    ¡°I can always find time for an important meeting. To have the honour of your first correspondence is a compliment rarely given.¡±

    Welt showed Adrian to the table, where they both sat across from one another. Adrian noted that he was already drinking. The atmosphere of the restaurant was suffocating. The smell of cigar smoke clung to the silk curtains like a heavy miasma. The only reason he could tolerate it was because they were the only ones inside. There was no dress-code in force so early in the day.

    ¡°I have to say, receiving a letter from you was a pleasant surprise. You aren¡¯t known for your involvement in politics or influence-peddling.¡±

    ¡°Influence peddling? You make it sound petty.¡±

    Welt shrugged, ¡°Is that not what we do? Men and women of ambition who wish to shape the world in their preferred image, always building alliances and making their case. There¡¯s nothing I cannot abide quite like an ambitious sort who dresses their intent in the language of altruism.¡±

    ¡°How would you describe your work with the party, then?¡±

    Welt smiled, ¡°I do not advocate for the return of the monarchy solely because it will improve our fortunes, or the fortunes of the working man. This so-called progress, what has it brought us in the decades since the compromise was signed? This grand experiment has meant little to most. The house of Van Walser is not merely a collection of talented leaders, but they are an emblem of pride for millions of people.¡±

    Adrian tried not to let his scepticism about that claim show. He was politically engaged by any means, but his father would frequently air his grievances about the ¡®worthless parasites¡¯ who called themselves royals. It was easy to see them as a symbol of pride when you willingly ignored their excesses.

    ¡°I heard that the King is not... enthused about the idea.¡±

    Welt nodded, ¡°His first and foremost concern has always been peace. It¡¯s admirable, but we have a difference of opinion on the consequences of any royal restoration. It certainly will not be the disaster that he envisions.¡±

    Adrian did not want to linger on this topic for too long. He merely wanted to give Welt the impression that he was open to cooperating with him in return for something else. A passing investment in the discussion was more than enough for that.

    ¡°Maybe I should reserve that kind of philosophical talk for later in the day,¡± Adrian jested, ¡°My uncle is always telling me to start taking running the family business seriously. I¡¯m here to shake hands. Even if it appears that we cannot see eye-to-eye at the moment.¡±

    Welt visibly winced. It was subtle, but spending so much time around Maria had trained Adrian to notice those small tells with laser-like precision.

    ¡°Cedric is an intelligent man. I hope that his advice is well-meaning.¡±

    Adrian was treading carefully with what he said; ¡°I think that the stress of my father¡¯s arrest has a part to play. He¡¯s been in a hurry to do whatever he can lately, almost as if he¡¯s putting himself into his shoes.¡±

    ¡°A personal tragedy can do that.¡±

    ¡°But I am taking it seriously. My uncle was right about one thing, I couldn¡¯t continue to neglect the parts of my responsibility that involved speaking with others. Our company employs thousands and thousands of people, and they depend on me making the right decisions to remain employed.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a new project in mind?¡±

    ¡°Not at the moment. I¡¯m still becoming familiar with running what we have. It¡¯s been a difficult adjustment. Suddenly I¡¯ve had to come to terms with everything my father was doing for decades, making decisions and keeping on top of all of the paperwork.¡±

    Welt took another sip of his drink; ¡°It is in the most trying times that our best qualities are shown for all. My advice is to never forget that there are experienced men and women who keep the gears turning even without your supervision.¡±

    Adrian frowned, ¡°Yes, unfortunately, some of those men and women decided to leave their posts after my father¡¯s conviction.¡±

    The conversation took an odd turn as Welt drilled down into that particular incident.

    ¡°Do you feel that your father was unfairly tried?¡±

    Adrian couldn¡¯t hide his disdain for that perspective, ¡°Not at all. I visited him in prison a while ago, and he continued to state that he did all of that for my sake. It only made me angrier with him. He never did listen to me. I did not want him to get someone killed so I could marry their fianc¨¦.¡±

    The glass was placed back down onto the leather coaster and Welt tried to steer the mood back in the right direction.

    ¡°It is difficult to understand the perspective of a worried parent until you¡¯ve become one yourself. Lines are drawn between what the child desires and the parent¡¯s concern for their future.¡±

    ¡°My father wants me to be exactly like him.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s one way that the ¡®war¡¯ can go. It¡¯s reassuring for a parent to try and mould their children to be exactly like them. It is a well-worn path, one that offers few surprises and more control.¡±

    ¡°And what do you think of people who assert that this approach is for the sake of ensuring that ¡®they¡¯ live on into the future through their children?¡±

    ¡°I think that''s foolishness of the highest order. We only have one chance in this life ¨C and we cannot assume control of another¡¯s body and relish in their successes long into the future. If one wishes to leave a legacy to be remembered, then they should do the utmost to achieve it within their own lifetime, and not delegate it to a child who is ultimately out of their control.¡±

    ¡°I agree, but perhaps we should speak of less candid affairs and lighten the mood.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s father and his arrest were such totemic subjects that they almost always came up during conversation. Nobles relished the chance to needle him for details and ask him how he felt about it as if they could not imagine feeling the same type of anger that ran through his veins. It was too abstract and tinged by their love of drama to understand.

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    Adrian ordered something light for breakfast and a glass of orange juice. He hoped that they would calm his rampaging nerves. Sending the letter tore him in two ¨C and then the act of getting dressed and coming to their arranged meeting location felt like stabbing himself in the chest with a dagger.

    He didn¡¯t fear Welt. Welt was not going to lay a finger on him.

    It was Maria who he had to be wary of. He¡¯d ignored her and sent the letter on his behalf. He was going under her nose and acting with his own discretion to try and figure out what was happening with Welt and his uncle. He knew it was a game where he had nothing left at stake, but he couldn¡¯t leave it unfinished.

    How Maria would react was the biggest problem. She was cold, manipulative, open to using violence to get her way, and rarely seemed to deal with ¡®friends¡¯ who didn¡¯t follow her orders to the letter. Was she going to lose her mind and threaten him like she did others? Or was she going to skip that step entirely and put a bullet in his chest?

    He was the one who asked Maria to help him and now he was trying to run from the choice he made back then. Adrian thought that he could use Maria as a tool to a certain extent, but he soon learnt that Maria never relinquished control. She moved pieces around the board like a chess master and lined them up perfectly to come out on top.

    It only begot more questions about when and where she obtained those skills. Adrian was closer to her than any of the students at the academy. He knew first-hand that Maria was often busy attending shooting competitions and other noble engagements. There was no time to secretly become a trained killer. Shooting a clay disk out of the sky with a long arm didn¡¯t transform them both into experienced gunfighters.

    This was just as much about provoking Maria as it was Welt. Adrian couldn¡¯t claim to be upset about the situation when he wasn¡¯t willing to put his neck on the line to take control like Maria did. This was his grand experiment. He was prodding the tiger to see how it reacted.

    Welt was easier to predict. He leapt at the chance to speak with the current head of the Roderro family. He didn¡¯t care about Cedric on any personal level, he was nothing more than a convenient conduit by which he could access the family¡¯s resources and cashflow to implement his plans. That was why Cedric was in a blind panic about Welt dispatching violent murderers into Church Walk as some kind of twisted test.

    ¡°If you ever have need of advice or guidance, then do not be afraid to reach out. I know some very talented people who can help with what I cannot.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a kind offer.¡±

    Welt smiled, ¡°A lot of commoners see us as a collection of backstabbing fools. While that perception may persist because of what leaks to the newspapers ¨C the truth is that there are far more individuals who see the value in supporting one another. A rising tide lifts all ships, as they say.¡±

    ¡°And the only expectation is that I return the favour in kind.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Even if we were not acting under that belief, I have a lot of friends who would like to coordinate with you and your business. We¡¯re speaking of purely transactional relationships though.¡±

    Transactional relationships were easier to understand according to Maria.

    Adrian subjected himself to the trite small talk of a man who saw his future at the top of the pile. Welt had the face of a sour sort and no amount of fake smiles or overbearing glad-handing could erase the creases that marred the corners of his eyes or brow. Adrian heard the rumours about Welt. This wasn¡¯t honest in the least.

    It was then and only then that Adrian tried to consider why he was the one meeting with Welt, and not Maria. When she stated that she was going to send her letter to Welt, there was no doubt that she was going to do exactly as she said. Was Welt planning a second meeting later in the day when he was done with him?

    Adrian enjoyed his breakfast and powered through the agony of being forced to speak with a man who was only hoping to call him in for a favour later. Those types had dried up after Cathdra¡¯s arrest and Adrian¡¯s self-imposed isolation ¨C so it took a special kind of opportunist to still give it a go.

    He was down to his last bite of the food when the sound of a commotion at the front of the building disrupted the meeting.

    ¡°You can¡¯t go in there!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to go in there! Let me get past!¡±

    The second voice slurred their words. Whoever was causing the issue was clearly inebriated.

    ¡°You walked right into me,¡± the guard asserted.

    ¡°You¡¯re the only one making this a problem, arsehole! You don¡¯t own the bloody sidewalk.¡±

    One of the guards outside of the booth stepped away and approached the front door, which was around a left bend that prevented Adrian from seeing what was happening. The voices came into clearer focus once it was opened, along with a rush of cold morning air.

    ¡°Is there a problem here?¡±

    ¡°No. Just some drunk bum making a fuss.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m standing right here you wanker!¡±

    ¡°Then clear off!¡±

    The argument was furthered when yet another group of people approached the Grand Rose and got between the two sides. The voice that commanded their attention made Adrian¡¯s blood run cold.

    ¡°Is Gerard Verner Welt here?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s asking?¡±

    ¡°The police.¡±

    There was a long silence. Welt tensed up in his chair but made no move to escape.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that refusing to give an answer is obstruction of police business, gentlemen.¡±

    That was Veronica alright. The guard who left a moment before to help with the drunkard was forced to follow in a panic as she and a pair of officers pushed their way through and approached the booth at the back corner of the building. Veronica already knew where Welt would be seated. Adrian tried to shrink in his seat to avoid earning her ire.

    ¡°Gerard Verner Welt. My name is Veronica Gladwell. I¡¯d like to ask you some questions.¡±

    There was no messing around. Veronica wanted answers and she was going to get them come what may. She even flashed her badge to ensure that Welt understood that the threat was legitimate.

    ¡°Ah, of course. I¡¯m always happy to assist the proud men and women of Walser¡¯s police union.¡±

    He motioned for the guard to step back before he turned the questioning into a brawl between him and the two armed officers who flanked her on both sides. The atmosphere of the mostly empty restaurant took a very sudden turn for the worse. Welt was uncomfortable with being cornered by three ¡®police¡¯ officers, and the smarm offensive wasn¡¯t working the way it used to.

    Veronica sighed, ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand. You¡¯re being apprehended for questioning. Get your things.¡±

    Welt recoiled from the outrage of it, ¡°You¡¯re apprehending me? On what grounds?¡±

    ¡°I submitted a report to the district courthouse and they agree that we have probable cause to confine you for questioning. Any explanation of the evidence used to underline that warrant has to be saved for a private location.¡±

    ¡°I can hardly agree to that based on your word alone.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you agree ¨C you don¡¯t have a choice. Out of consideration for your station, I went through official channels to gain approval for this, but I can easily assert a plethora of other legal rights to supersede their authority. We can do this the nice way, or the nasty way. That¡¯s your only choice.¡±

    Welt licked his drying lips and looked to his guards for assistance, but even they weren¡¯t going to attack a police officer who was not posing an active threat to their employer. It would easily come back to haunt them later. He would have to flee the country as a fugitive to evade the follow-up investigation. His last refuge was indignant rage.

    He rose from his chair and pointed at her, ¡°I know who you are now. You¡¯re not a police officer. You¡¯re one of those feckless WISA parasites!¡±

    ¡°Does it matter? We¡¯re all officers of the law. If you choose to resist arrest, then I won¡¯t show you any mercy. If you were anyone else they¡¯d demand that I drag you to the station by the scruff of your neck.¡±

    Adrian kept his head down and moved aside so that he wasn¡¯t caught in the crossfire between Veronica and Welt. This had thrown a wrench into his plan. WISA was moving too quickly to keep up with. Veronica was already knocking on the door of the man in charge. Veronica was ignoring him. He was not relevant to her investigation.

    ¡°I want to speak with your handler.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that speaking with her won¡¯t help. This detention is being made with her approval, nor do you possess a legal right to speak with her at this juncture. I can assure you that none of the usual dirty tricks are going to let you worm out of this.¡±

    Welt couldn¡¯t order his guards to remove them from the building. This was a ¡®polite¡¯ society, where such violence would only serve to worsen the odds he faced. He grabbed his coat from the back of his seat and donned it with a furious scowl. This was meant to be a dinner with a new and promising contact, but now he was being forcibly paraded through the streets like some kind of criminal.

    Despite his mock indignation, Welt knew exactly what he was being apprehended for. It only defied reason that he was being treated so harshly by the authorities. They normally took a meek and diplomatic approach to avoid outraging the monarchist parties, to the extent that he had been exploiting their indecision for years.

    WISA was an unknown element. They couldn¡¯t be reigned in by any of the government ministers like the police. Welt would have been happy to see them if they were still loyal to the crown as they should have been, rather than contorted into a public agency with abusive leg powers.

    Welt left the safety of the booth and approached the officers.

    ¡°What am I being questioned under?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re suspected of fifty-seven counts of conspiracy to commit murder, five counts of conspiracy to access a restricted area, and three counts of disturbing the public peace.¡±

    ¡°Absurd.¡±

    ¡°You can save your defences for the interview.¡±

    The two police officers cleared the way for Veronica to escort him out of the restaurant. The guards outside were still trying to deal with the drunk who had collided with one of them. Veronica rounded the corner with Welt in her grip, and it was at that exact moment that the man drew a small revolver from the pocket of his coat and shot the guard square in the chest.

    Blood splattered across his body. He turned to face the door and forced his way through. Veronica acted fast and pushed Welt out of the way, sending him stumbling up and over the wooden bar that ran along the side of the floor space.

    The officer to her left fired back, forcing him through the door and onto the street where he could take cover. Veronica could hear more voices coming from around the back. A loud shotgun blast could be heard, and the back door was blown from its hinges. A flood of several men poured through with arms bared.

    ¡°What the hell is going on?¡±

    Veronica grabbed her hapless backup and dragged him to the nearest table, flipping it over with one hand and turning it into a piece of makeshift cover as bullets started to fly between the guards and would-be assassins pouring into the building.

    ¡°Welt is a popular man!¡±

    The neatly styled interior of the Grand Rose was transformed into a deadly weapon in itself, as shards of wood ruptured to pieces from the bullets and flew in every direction. A group of four men emerged from the staff area at the rear and charged towards Welt¡¯s location.

    Adrian was already hiding back in the VIP area, keeping his head down like Maria usually ordered him to. He had a front-row seat to the carnage, although he was more focused on calling himself stupid for coming to the meeting without Maria¡¯s knowledge. This was exactly the type of situation that she was anticipating!

    The guards were overwhelmed and flanked from both sides. They fell one by one, being showered in a hail of gunfire and left to lie in a pool of their blood. Veronica barely found time to draw her weapon before the odds shifted against them.

    Marco Fisichella was the last man through the rear door. Adrian recognized him right away even when he was wearing a cloth mask.

    ¡°Gerard Verner Welt ¨C you come out and die like a man, and we¡¯ll make it easy for you!¡±

    ¡®Why would he ever agree to an offer like that?¡¯ Adrian wondered silently.

 Chapter 130

    Adrian could appreciate the irony of what was happening to him.

    This was entirely on him. He didn¡¯t listen to what Maria said because he believed that he could take care of it on his own. He foolishly tricked himself into thinking that there was no way that a simple meeting between him and Welt could take a sudden and violent turn as it did.

    Of course it would turn violent! When did things not turn out this way?

    There was no point in lamenting it. Adrian was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Marco Fisichella was waving a gun around and demanding that Welt offer up his position for summary execution, an act of revenge for the attack at the funeral by the leader of the Church Street gang. He could see him from under his hiding spot beneath the table.

    Would a bolt of magical energy be enough to take him down and secure an escape route? Probably not. Too many men were breaching the building for it to be that simple. Marco would have meticulously placed more lookouts on the outside to keep interlopers from getting in and his target from getting out. All of that big talk that Maria did was starting to rub off on him.

    Maria wasn¡¯t there. He couldn¡¯t rely on her seemingly endless font of experience to guide him out of this jam. Adrian wanted to go it alone ¨C and that meant dealing with the complications.

    The brief lull in the gunfire wouldn¡¯t last for long. The riotous sounds of the fight faded away, leaving the sound of clattering casings on the wooden floor and the fearful screams of the onlookers on the street outside. Every window across the road now had a pair of eyes looking down onto the scene of the crime. The sour smell of it tickled Adrian¡¯s nose.

    He couldn¡¯t see what was going on around the corner. That was where Welt and Veronica had gone to leave after she apprehended him. She was either dead already or biding her time to strike back. Knowing that she was Maria¡¯s mother ¨C he concluded in confidence that it was the latter.

    ¡°Is the front clear?¡± Marco yelled.

    ¡°Yeah! We¡¯re coming in now!¡±

    Marco kept his gun up and crept towards the bend in the restaurant¡¯s main area. Adrian could feel his heart beating against the inside of his chest as the tension was slowly ratcheted up bit by bit. The explosive opening of his killer gambit had given way to a more considered set of moves. Nobody wanted to be the one caught off guard.

    He peered around the edge and observed for a moment.

    ¡°Did you get all the policemen?¡±

    ¡°Only one!¡±

    ¡°Can you see them?¡±

    The men at the front door looked through into the bar area and scanned the place for any signs of resistance. The upturned table on one side across from the bar surface was an obvious hiding place. Veronica and the assassins both knew that.

    ¡°Behind a table, near the windows.¡±

    Marco tried to use his diplomacy, ¡°If you come out and drop your guns, we¡¯ll let you go.¡±

    Veronica spoke in response, seeing no value in hiding for any longer.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to let you do that. If you¡¯re here to kill Welt, you¡¯ll have to go through me first.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not a smart choice!¡± Marco declared, ¡°We¡¯ve surrounded you. There are fourteen guns trained on this building. I give the word and they tear that table to pieces, and you with it. Between risking my mercy and a guaranteed death ¨C the answer seems obvious.¡±

    ¡°Welt¡¯s too valuable to let go. I¡¯m not letting you kill him.¡±

    ¡°Valuable? That¡¯s what I don¡¯t get about you police. He¡¯s the cause of the problem, so hurry up and kill him already! I¡¯ll even do it for you as a favour.¡±

    Marco had never once run into a situation where killing one of his targets prevented him from completing the contract. He had other ways of getting the information he needed. Sources inside the police who liked bribes, information gatherers who were all over the city, and his own regular crew of collaborators who were excellent at finding fresh information. Welt was a key piece of the group responsible for the funeral attack. It would be idiocy of the highest order to let him slip through the cracks.

    ¡°Last warning!¡±

    Veronica remained silent.

    ¡°Close it up,¡± Marco ordered. A few seconds later the men by the front door charged through the gap and stepped through the broken glass that covered the ground. At the same time, he and the two men who were following him leapt around the corner. Adrian saw his window of opportunity. He crawled out from beneath the table and ran for the back entrance while they were busy.

    ¡°Shoot to the left, I¡¯ll take the right,¡± Veronica whispered.

    ¡°We really should have surrendered...¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re going to kill us anyway!¡±

    The brief argument came to a sudden end, with Veronica finally breaking cover with her semi-automatic pistol drawn and ready to fire. They were all lined up like ducks in a row. A single bullet ripped through the first man¡¯s chest and the shrapnel kept going, striking the man behind him and forcing him down with a minor injury.

    The other two behind them were not so lucky. Veronica fired another four shots in rapid succession. The man at the back of the queue ducked to the left and hid behind the end of the bar counter to stay out of the line of fire.

    At the same time, her compatriot was unloading their entire magazine at the advancing group led by Marco. He and his forward guard also ran for cover behind various tables and visual obstructions. Smoke and particles of shattered wood obscured their vision.

    Veronica grabbed the police officer by his collar and dragged him across the floor to the bar, leaping over it and tumbling down on the opposite side. Welt was still cowering on the floor next to the cabinets filled with glasses. Veronica found a more interesting reward than booze though, which she happily reached out to take for her usage.

    ¡°Light them up!¡± Marco yelled.

    If Adrian thought the sounds before were ear-drum destroying, then he was sorely mistaken. Eight different guns turned on the lavishly engraved wooden bar and started shooting like it was a carnival game. Bottles of alcohol exploded into a shower of glass and fluid. The wood was ripped to shreds and filled with hundreds of holes. Whatever else was left was either damaged beyond recognition or sent falling onto the floor.

    The onslaught continued for almost a minute solid without rest. Marco¡¯s men expended every bullet they could spare ¨C staggering their reloads so that they could maintain a volley of death that would kill anything standing in the way. The formerly pristine drinking area was reduced to a pile of rubble.

    ¡°Stop! Stop, that¡¯s enough!¡±

    Marco¡¯s ears were ringing, but the discomfort was something he had to ignore. As he stepped closer to the bar to check if the targets were dead, so did the other men who were still standing. They surrounded the bar and peered over the edge. What they found surprised them.

    Nothing.

    But Marco was already savvy to their tricks. He¡¯d scouted the building¡¯s exterior in detail before committing to doing the hit there. The cellar doors, which led out onto an exterior courtyard nearby, were one of the first exit points he marked as an important point to focus on. The restaurant used it to store alcohol and other supplies. It made it easier for the deliveries to go that way.

    ¡°They¡¯ve gone through the cellar!¡±

    He had two people keeping an eye on the exit. One of his friends hopped the bar and pulled up on the wooden slat to pursue, but a second shot of adrenaline was injected into their veins as his head exploded outwards into a visceral shower of bone fragments and brain matter. Everyone staggered back as the shotgun slug ripped his head and skull to pieces. The door slammed shut again ¨C and Marco stood in stunned silence while blood and viscera dribbled down from the ceiling.

    ¡°They got John!¡±

    ¡°I noticed!¡± Marco barked, ¡°You three go down there in two minutes. I¡¯m going to cut them off on the other side.¡±

    Marco was in such a hurry that he didn¡¯t stop to hear any protestations from his crew. He ran through the rear staff door and into the stairwell, where another door allowed him to move out to the rear corner of the building. A set of mid-rise houses took the other half of the block, but there was also the service door that led into the cellar in the courtyard between them.

    A stone archway allowed carts to pass through. The houses were constructed after the Grand Rose, so this strange arrangement continued in perpetuity even if it disrupted the residential purpose of the area. The two men attached to his position followed along, while one remained to guard the back door just in case they doubled back.

    Adrian, meanwhile, hid in a nearby alleyway and counted his lucky stars. Everyone was so busy trying to murder Welt that the gunman standing at the door didn¡¯t try to stop him when he dashed past and found somewhere to hide until the chaos ended. Again ¨C he had to ask how Maria coped with situations like these. It felt like his heart was about to burst.

    This was insanity. The police were nowhere to be seen. Veronica hadn¡¯t put them on standby to back her up if the arrest went south, and it had very much gone south. Adrian was struck with his inability to do something to influence the outcome of events. This was all because of his hubris.

    In the cellar below the Grand Rose, there was a similar tension building between Welt and Veronica.

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    ¡°This is plainly ridiculous!¡± Welt complained.

    ¡°A police officer died protecting you, so save your complaints for later, or I¡¯ll gag that big mouth of yours shut!¡±

    Veronica was still wielding the ¡®borrowed¡¯ shotgun, and her face was covered in blood too. She cut an intimidating figure. Any other person would have hesitated to launch into a debate with her about what the best course of action was.

    ¡°They must have followed you here. This is all your fault.¡±

    ¡°Followed us? Do you have the faintest idea how easy it was to figure out what your routine is? The first thing my contact said was that you visit the Grand Rose every other day and sit in the back booth.¡±

    The surviving officer, Lynne, kept a firm hold on the back of his jacket and their gun trained on the stepladder that descended into the cellar. This allowed Veronica to do what she did best, dispense death to anyone who tried to interfere with what she was doing.

    ¡°It looks like he¡¯s made a lot of enemies to me,¡± he commented, ¡°How are we going to get out of here? There¡¯s at least a dozen of them waiting for us.¡±

    Veronica hated to admit it but their options were dwindling by the second. There were two many guns pointed at the cellar door and the angle was terrible for launching a fightback. It was like tossing a coin except both sides were a losing outcome.

    The other exit posed a different problem. It was a longer stairwell that led out into a residential courtyard. It was long, narrow, and the ideal place to mount up and prepare an ambush. Veronica was in such a tight spot that she had no choice but to run for the first escape route she could find, and now it was coming back to bite her in the arse.

    ¡°Those gunshots are going to attract more officers to investigate. They won¡¯t want to stick around here forever, if they want Welt they¡¯ll have to make a move.¡±

    ¡°And the exits?¡±

    ¡°Death traps, both of them. We have better odds of survival by taking up a defensive position in this cellar. We can control both entrances, one gun each, and they¡¯ll have to take a risk to come and get us.¡±

    The cellar was deceptively large. Dozens and dozens of barrels and wooden boxes filled the area, with white plastered walls designed to keep the temperature cool all year round. They formed up into solid cover that they could use to conceal their positions.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to wait in here like sitting ducks and let them murder us?¡± Welt snarked, ¡°I thought you were the best and brightest that WISA had to offer!¡±

    Officer Lynne took a length of rope from one of the wine barrels and held it up.

    ¡°Would you like for me to gag him, Ma¡¯am? He¡¯s driving me up the wall too.¡±

    ¡°If you put that dirty thing in my mouth I¡¯ll make sure that you never work as an officer of the law again!¡± Welt barked.

    ¡°You sure love throwing your influence around,¡± Veronica said, ¡°Just so you know ¨C we¡¯re the only people between you and an early grave at the moment, so I would appreciate some cooperation.¡±

    Welt shook his head and allowed himself to be pushed away into the wine caskets, out of sight of both entrances. Lynne tried pulling one of them in front of the ladder to obstruct the way, but the frames were bolted down tight. If Marco¡¯s crew were going to attack in numbers, they were likely to focus on the service entrance instead of the one behind the bar.

    ¡°Are you good for ammunition?¡±

    Lynne patted down his left pocket, ¡°I only used one magazine. I have two left. I¡¯ll be careful.¡±

    Veronica checked the shotgun¡¯s chamber and tried to estimate how many shells were in the tube. It was loaded when she picked it up, presumably so the bartender could use it to ward away any would-be robbers. She didn¡¯t have time to grab any extra shells from the box that was next to it. It was a miracle that a stray bullet didn¡¯t hit it and cause it to detonate in her face.

    Three or four shells, by her trained eye. She would have to keep her pistol close at hand and switch over when it no longer proved useful.

    ¡°I¡¯m starting to think that the proliferation of weapons in the hands of civilians is more problematic than helpful these days.¡±

    Lynne shrugged, ¡°There was no helping that after the war. Too many guns around to keep track of and bigger priorities to worry about.¡±

    It was a common adage among foreign observers that Walser had something of a long, lurid love affair with being armed to the teeth. At one time it was common for every individual in a community to have a shotgun or rifle hidden somewhere in their home. This practice was pushed to near uniformity by the Civil War ¨C in which violence could break out at any time and in any place. Millions of new weapons were manufactured and handed to militias on both sides, with no concern for where they would end up.

    But Veronica¡¯s job wasn¡¯t to advocate for gun reform. She was the type of government agent whom those firearm bearers feared the most. All of those high-minded ideas about making a real difference had been beaten out of her years ago. The game was rigged; the faces and the names changed, but never the forces that drove them.

    Welt thought he was the hottest property in town. Veronica had seen it all before, and this was the type of entitled lunatic that she hated the most. She could barely withhold her contempt for the fool while trying to appear professional and keep the arrest moving along. WISA agents could do a lot ¨C but they could also get criminal charges thrown out by forgetting to respect the suspect¡¯s rights in a public setting.

    If it was someone nobody cared about or could see? They could go nuts and do as they liked. Veronica was not going to criticise that way of operating, because she knew she was one of the people who benefitted the most from it. The three men she questioned at the slaughterhouse were a perfect example.

    Welt was too influential for that.

    Veronica got into position and allowed Lynne to watch the ladder. Welt cowered in the corner, and the group settled in for a long, anxious wait. She could still hear them stomping around in the restaurant upstairs. The sights of her stolen shotgun remained trained on the door, from an angle where they couldn¡¯t shoot through it to hit her, but she could see their legs on the way down.

    She waited and waited, and then waited some more. Veronica was starting to suspect that they had called the whole thing off, at least until a loud explosion shook the foundations of the Grand Rose and sent dust billowing down from the previous undisturbed caskets.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Officer Lynne asked.

    Gunfire. There was another fight happening outside.

    ¡°I doubt that¡¯s our backup,¡± Veronica murmured, ¡°Stay here. I¡¯ll risk it.¡±

    Veronica hurried up the steps and tried to keep quiet. The cellar was latched shut from the inside to keep people from breaking in and stealing the valuable alcohol that was hidden within. They¡¯d tried to break through using brute force to no avail. It wasn''t easy to dislodge too.

    The noises were loud, but they didn¡¯t sound like they were coming from the courtyard. Veronica recognized the blasts. They weren¡¯t explosions ¨C they were spells. Spells that were thrown by the people who attacked the funeral. There was only one reason for them to be at the Grand Rose at that moment. They were here to protect Welt.

    She pushed through the door and tumbled out into the courtyard proper, where three dead bodies lay strewn across the area, one in a pile of brick rubble. He¡¯d been blown clean through the wall and left in a heap. They were working fast. Veronica estimated that two minutes had gone by since the second battle started.

    ¡°Lynne, bring him up here!¡± Veronica shouted. The area was clear for the time being and there was no reason to sit around.

    Another blast. More gunshots.

    Lynne dragged Welt with him and into the courtyard whilst keeping his gun up and ready to use at a moment¡¯s notice. He grimaced at the damage and thought the same as Veronica. How had they done so much in such a short timeframe?

    ¡°This way!¡±

    Veronica led the charge, taking them away from the Grand Rose and through one of the large stone arches that granted access to the middle square between the buildings. At one time it would have been an important logistical hub for the businesses inside ¨C but the Grand Rose was the only one left to use it as intended.

    But as they broke out onto the main road, it became evident that there was already another group of gunmen waiting for them in ambush. A bullet grazed the sidewalk in front of her. Veronica staggered back and into a safer position.

    ¡°They¡¯re still watching us?¡±

    She only caught a glimpse of where they were positioned. It was a bad idea to try and fire back with them holding the line of fire under their control. It did not last for long. The corner of the building from where the shot came exploded outwards into a shower of rubble, crushing him to death. A cloaked figure emerged in their place and marched down the street with no regard for their own safety.

    ¡°Back up! Back up!¡±

    Veronica led Lynne and Welt to the other exit, which was her second choice, but she wasn¡¯t willing to chance another encounter with one of those mad mages.

    ¡°I take it that they¡¯re here to protect you, Mister Welt?¡± Veronica queried.

    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an odd coincidence that they chose to appear here during your arrest.¡±

    The situation was spiralling out of control. Another group was joining the fray and dispatching many of the warm bodies who were on the scene to either protect, arrest or murder Welt. There were signs of damage wherever Veronica looked. They passed through onto the opposite road and witnessed three dead bodies slumped against one of the far walls.

    ¡°Move your bloody feet!¡± Lynne demanded. Welt was being obstructive and trying to get behind him. The mage was closing in on them, and the more time they wasted the sooner he could attack them and release Welt.

    But it was all wasted effort. Veronica barely had time to react as another of the mages appeared from a nearby alleyway and threw a magical attack in their direction. It was weaker than the others ¨C designed to separate her and Officer Lynne from Welt. They flew backwards and onto the paved stones. The shotgun was flung from her hands and into the gutter out of arm¡¯s reach.

    His emphatic denials rang hollow as he quickly got back to his feet and staggered over to his saviour. Veronica rolled over and crawled to where her gun had fallen. Just then, from the bottom end of the street, Marco rushed around the corner with his weapon drawn. He fired six shots in their direction, but the mage placed his body between his line of sight and Welt, taking the bullets for him and allowing Welt to escape down the alleyway.

    Veronica rolled over and pulled the trigger, but only succeeded in blowing the brickwork by the entryway to pieces. Lynne was down for the count having struck his head against the floor, so she struggled back to her feet and gave chase. Marco could wait for later.

    That was the plan anyway. Veronica used what strength remained in her legs to hurry through the alleyway and break out onto the main street, but she was tackled to the ground by one of Marco¡¯s gang members. She promptly hit him across the skull with the stock of the shotgun and pushed him away.

    Marco was behind her. She swivelled on her heel and aimed the shotgun at him.

    Against all odds, Welt managed to escape the clutches of both the police and his would-be killers. The chaos served him perfectly. He could slip away in the mayhem and wash his hands of any responsibility.

    Veronica was furious, and there was only one still breathing man at arm¡¯s length for her to take it out on. Marco was still on the floor with his hands held in the air. For all of his caution when dealing with her ¨C she still found a way to turn the tables on him. But being under her heel only left him with one thought which he couldn¡¯t help but verbalize.

    ¡°Ha. I suppose the apple didn¡¯t fall too far from the tree, did it? You look exactly like her.¡±

    It was when Veronica¡¯s eyes turned into daggers that Marco discovered that he was treading on extremely sensitive ground. She was a WISA agent. WISA agents didn¡¯t have children, they weren¡¯t allowed to. This was the raven-haired, ruby-eyed stone-cold bitch who he¡¯d been warned about. Her reputation was gigantic. A ruthless phantom who dismantled criminal conspiracies in an instant, and often left piles of dead bodies in her wake.

    There were three commonalities to those tales. Her affiliation with a discrete domestic security force, her beautiful appearance, and her almost supernatural capability to deliver death en masse. Some criminals even gave her stupid nicknames to go along with them.

    But Marco knew that she was a living, breathing woman. A deadly one, but a woman nonetheless. His discovery that Maria Walston-Carter was her biological daughter put everything into a new context. They looked so similar that it was impossible to ignore.

    ¡°I suggest you choose your next words very carefully, Marco.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m honoured that you know who I am.¡±

    ¡°Only you could put together an operation as slapdash as this. Did your trigger finger get too itchy? A smart man wouldn¡¯t leap into the belly of the beast because he risked missing his deadlines. Robert Van Gervan must have paid a lot to make you throw your caution to the wind. You never like dealing with the police.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s a lesson learned. One of the rare times that I break my own rules and I end up in this situation. I understood the game when I signed up, always have, and always will.¡±

    ¡°Hands behind your back, against the wall.¡±

    Outgunned, outnumbered, and already injured from another spell-based attack, Veronica had no choice but to call it quits and give up on the pursuit. She cuffed Marco and his unconscious accomplice. It was not much of a consolation prize given the man who slipped through the net.

    ¡°You and me, we¡¯re going to have a very long talk about what you know.¡±

    Marco walked over to his companion and sat on the curb to await his transport to the nearest cell. The assassins were gone, as was Welt, and there was a deceased officer in the Grand Rose to call in too. The cat was out of the bag for Welt. There was no use in him ordering his lackeys to kill all of the witnesses, so they ran the first chance they got.

    This case was starting to piss her off.

 Chapter 131

    Muwah was blindsided by the events unfolding with the Redevelopment Project.

    Despite Cedric Roderro¡¯s zealous advocacy for the scheme, which aimed to remove the urban blight around Church Walk, expel criminal gangs and improve the quality of life for the residents - it seemed that the entire plan was about to be thrown out of the window.

    Muwah couldn¡¯t understand why. There had obviously been a lot of trouble brewing between the Church Street gang and the mysterious murders taking place, though he always believed it to be more gang violence in a city that was often rocked by it. Despite the stormy seas he never once backed down or indicated that he was open to changing his mind.

    At least until that morning, when a letter was dispatched to all of the investors triggering the plan¡¯s formal dissolution. Those who purchased plots in the area were now free to do with them as they pleased, and those who invested money into Cedric¡¯s hands were now offered a full refund for the cash spent. The redevelopment plot was now dead in the water.

    Muwah was befuddled by the lack of any justification being offered. He decided to brave the risks brought on by visiting the city, even after another fresh spate of violence, so that he could speak with him face-to-face. He was an elusive man, but Muwah had an inkling of where he could be found.

    He wasn¡¯t at his office at the depot, so Muwah went to the next best haunt in the smoking room at the back of a pub named the Horse and Cart. It was a popular place for businessmen like him to get away from the noise and smoke in peace. True to form, Cedric was hiding in the back corner by an open window with a cigar clenched between his fingers.

    Muwah approached and silently took the other chair across the small table.

    ¡°Mister Abdah, what can I help you with?¡± he rasped, his eyes darting between his face and the door.

    ¡°You already know why I¡¯m here. You¡¯re calling off the whole project. I dropped by your office and found an empty room, with your employees packing everything into boxes. What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Business is all about risks, and I¡¯m afraid that the risk calculation with the redevelopment projects has changed rapidly over the past few days. I can no longer guarantee a safe return for investors like yourself.¡±

    Muwah frowned, ¡°But the preservationist group hasn¡¯t been making any ground lately. Is it because of the violent incidents going on in the area? You said that the whole reason you wanted to buy up Church Walk was to prevent that from happening.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t deny that it¡¯s a factor in my decision, but I hope you¡¯ll respect my discretion in doing this. I cannot share every event that has led me to this conclusion.¡±

    Muwah sighed and slumped back in his seat, before pensively stroking his thick beard and staring out onto the road outside. The smoking lounge was on the first floor, offering even more privacy than the VIP area by the bar. Muwah had to pull a favour from another investor to get inside.

    ¡°Did they send you to speak with me?¡±

    Muwah nodded, ¡°Everyone else is too busy to make the trip at the moment. They asked me to forward their concerns about this sudden about-face.¡±

    He pulled an envelope from his pocket and slid it onto the table for Cedric to read later. Any losses from the cancellation of the scheme were small, and most would even turn a profit from the higher demand caused by their purchasing spree, but it paled in comparison to the promises that Cedric made when pitching it to them at the beginning of the year.

    ¡°Spare me the concerned letters. Nobody is more disappointed by this outcome than I.¡±

    Muwah stayed his tongue but a rude thought crossed his mind. It was obvious that Cedric was strongly motivated by a desire to repaint that area of the city in his own image, not just for the money it could proffer to him and the investors, but also because it would be a lasting monument to his success. Cedric would often complain about how he was less notable than his now-imprisoned brother. Even some of the early plans for the new Church Walk suggested naming key areas or buildings after him. It was a show of restraint that he didn¡¯t ask to build a bronze statue too.

    Muwah stepped over the line into dangerous territory and asked the important question.

    ¡°Is this because of something you cannot tell us? Something illegal perhaps?¡±

    Cedric was quick to deny that allegation; ¡°No, no, nothing of the sort. Some find our aggressive strategy boorish or insist that it should be illegal, but nothing we¡¯ve done for the sake of the project has been illegal. I¡¯m sure of that.¡±

    Muwah didn¡¯t entirely believe his claims of ignorance. If anything had caused him to change his mind about proceeding with the project, it was an issue that implicated him directly. Muwah wasn¡¯t trying to jinx him ¨C but he suspected that the violence was now threatening to overflow and become his problem too.

    ¡°I can¡¯t stop you, but I am disappointed that you¡¯ve been forced to compromise on your vision. Those opposition groups don¡¯t understand how good it would be for the city.¡±

    ¡°I... will have to find another way to make that happen,¡± Cedric said with finality.

    ¡°But it doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯re having your people empty out the office.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re reorganizing our locations. I decided to move my office to somewhere more centrally located.¡±

    Muwah was starting to suspect that there was more to the story than he was revealing to him. Was that relocation effort also a result of the project¡¯s cancellation? There were too many different problems piling up on top of one another.

    ¡°I suppose I will have to speak with the other investors about this, but I didn¡¯t have time to delay and confer before making my decision. Some may feel that I¡¯ve pulled the rug from under them, but the premise of our agreement was always that I was the one steering the investment. If they have a problem or incur any losses, we can negotiate a reimbursement.¡±

    He snuffed out his cigar in the ashtray and cleared his throat. Muwah didn¡¯t smoke, so it was rare that he entered a parlour such as this. He craned his head around the room and studied the furniture. The stench of stale air was overpowering. It was ironic that heavy conversations about the future of the city occurred in places like these.

    ¡°Of all of the investors I¡¯ve worked with ¨C I like you the most, Mister Abdah.¡±

    He turned back, ¡°You do?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no exaggeration to say that I greatly admire the work of your grandfather. He changed the fabric of this coastline almost on his own. There wouldn¡¯t be the huge dockyards and ships coming and going if not for him, there¡¯d be no prosperity for the men and women who work there either, and he built all of that from a small amount of money and his wits.¡±

    ¡°Luck played a part,¡± Muwah replied, ¡°And not everything he did was a success.¡±

    ¡°But the intelligence to place oneself in the right place at the right time, and the will to persevere even after failure, those are the talents that separate influential men from the forgotten. Your grandfather encapsulates that ideal, at least to me.¡±

    ¡°Do you feel you have the skill to be in the right place at the right time?¡± Muwah pondered. It was an aspect of the business that he didn¡¯t often consider.

    Cedric was not eager to flatter his own abilities.

    ¡°We all like to think so, but given the outcome of this particular project, it appears that I still have more to learn. I¡¯d like to work with you again in the future, regardless. Perhaps we can tackle a smaller idea and keep our feet away from the fire.¡±

    ¡°Of course. You know where to find me.¡±

    Cedric stood from his chair. He¡¯d already been lurking in the parlour for a few hours and wanted some fresh air. Muwah rose and joined him in walking towards the door out onto the landing at the top of the stairs. It was a disappointing end to a project in which Muwah had invested both his time and energy, but that was business for you. Sometimes the plans didn¡¯t turn out the way you expected, or the money came up short.

    Or ¨C you found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

    Muwah couldn¡¯t see what was happening in front. He kept walking towards Cedric¡¯s back even as he stopped in place and stared at a stranger who was blocking his path.

    A second later the back of his skull exploded outwards.

    It happened so suddenly that Muwah couldn¡¯t react to what he was seeing. A blooming rose obstructed the terrifying reality of what had just occurred. Even though Cedric was already dead, the assassin kept shooting until his magazine was empty. His body fell away from Muwah¡¯s path, and two of the stray bullets ripped through his abdomen.

    The lancing pain he felt was unlike anything he¡¯d ever experienced before. He cried out in agony and fell to the ground. It raced through his veins like poison and caused his vision to fade at each edge. Through his struggling consciousness, he finally comprehended that Cedric had been shot dead right in front of him. His body lay in a twisted heap on the floor of the parlour, eyes gazing towards the ceiling and a hole drilled directly into his forehead.

    ¡°Help... Help!¡±

    The gunshots were going to attract attention, but he didn¡¯t know if he¡¯d live for long enough to see that happen. He could feel where the bullets had hit him in the gut. His hands were covered with viscera. His mind raced, his life rewinding at a breakneck speed, all of his regrets and worries and triumphs welling up inside of him.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    At the forefront of those images were his family. His father, mother, brothers and in-laws. He was blessed to have a family that truly felt like one in the face of a myriad of conflicting motivations. Now he was on the verge of never having the chance to say goodbye.

    ¡°...Odeh. Max!¡±

    He couldn¡¯t move his legs. His strength was fading by the second, spilling from his open wounds and onto the wooden floor. He lay his head against it and tried to will his body from shutting down.

    All he could do was lay there and wait.

    <hr>

    The atmosphere in the hospital was suffocating.

    Surrounded on all sides by the first ventures into creating a sterile medical environment, assaulted by the sounds of the ailing in their beds, and all paved over with looming architecture that was both too large for comfort and simultaneously claustrophobic in nature.

    Adrian and Max had reasons to be here.

    That was that. Cedric was dead ¨C killed by one of Welt¡¯s gunmen after trying to pack up and leave town. It was an unfortunate series of cascading events, beginning with our interrogation, followed through with a botched attempt to apprehend Welt by WISA, and finishing with a messy and sudden hit in the upstairs lounge at his favourite bar.

    Everyone who knew about Welt¡¯s involvement in the scheme was being picked off one by one. The smart ones had already gone to ground and fled the city, but I did not doubt that a few more bodies would join the pile before the end of the week.

    What made it even more odious was that Muwah was caught up in the crossfire, taking two shots to the body whilst standing behind him. He was in critical condition with more surgery, both magical and rational, planned to try and fix the damage. It was a convergence of all the ¡®plot threads¡¯ I saw over the previous two weeks. If I were a smarter person I would have seen it coming and tried to act.

    But when facing the weight of the world, with so many moving pieces and individual decisions being made, how could I ever hope to keep up with it? I was only one teenage girl. I couldn¡¯t be everywhere at all times. I didn¡¯t possess any special knowledge about when and where these events occurred. I just had a lot of magic, a lot of cash, and a lot of ammunition.

    In the waiting room I sat with two despondent boys. Max was angrier than I¡¯d ever seen him before. His face was flushed red and his forehead pulsed. He was going to give himself a headache.

    ¡°Your uncle is down there in that bloody morgue right now, and my brother is two steps away from meeting with death up here! What in the Goddess¡¯ chuffing name were you thinking?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? I didn¡¯t do anything!¡±

    I shook my head; ¡°Come on. You can¡¯t honestly be playing ignorant now. Welt has a warrant out for his arrest, and WISA must know that he¡¯s involved in this plot with the assassins. He¡¯s killing everyone who knew about his involvement ¨C and that¡¯s why Cedric got shot, and Muwah was caught in the crossfire.¡±

    Adrian grimaced.

    ¡°I gave you one simple instruction. I told you not to go off on your own! These people are extraordinarily dangerous, and they¡¯re more than happy to kill someone if they think it¡¯s in their best interest!¡±

    I was starting to get flustered too. I took a step back and sucked in a deep breath. Adrian kept his mouth shut now that the recriminations were flowing thick and fast. There was no ground for him to stand on at this point.

    ¡°You shook the half-hawk¡¯s nest ¨C and now we have to deal with the consequences,¡± I concluded grimly.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Adrian contested, ¡°The police and those assassins showed up at the same time. He was going to get found out eventually, and then he¡¯d do the same bloody thing.¡±

    Adrian stewed by the window for a while, running through a silent argument in his head about what had happened with Cedric.

    ¡°It was his own bloody fault. It was his fault for getting involved with people like Welt,¡± he said to nobody, ¡°It was never good enough for him. He had enough money to never worry about being fed or having a place to live, but it wasn¡¯t about that. It was all about being better than my Dad. The bloody idiot.¡±

    The waiting room fell into a tense silence once more. I crossed my arms and sat quietly on one of the chairs. There was a lot to consider about this situation. I warned Cedric about the consequences of moving too suddenly ¨C but that didn¡¯t matter in the end. Welt was handing out burn notices to everyone who knew about his involvement.

    It wasn¡¯t necessarily fair to blame Adrian for it, but I wanted him to use this as a learning experience. Actions could have unintended consequences. He ignored what I said and rushed headfirst into the situation, almost getting killed in the process, and it may have expedited the execution of his uncle.

    A Doctor emerged from thin air and asked for him; ¡°Mister Roderro ¨C I¡¯m afraid that there may be a delay while the autopsy is conducted. Would you mind if we speak in private?¡±

    He stood up and followed him out of the room, ¡°Of course.¡±

    With Adrian gone, for the time being, Max felt at ease to speak his mind.

    ¡°You know, before this, I didn¡¯t have a horse in this race ¨C but now it¡¯s personal. Cedric nearly got him killed, or Goddess forbid, did get him killed.¡±

    It was sketchy. There was a high probability that Muwah wouldn¡¯t pull through given the extent of his injuries. They didn¡¯t have an exact number, but Max told me that he¡¯d taken two bullets into the stomach and laid there on the floor for some time.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying that you¡¯re wrong to feel that way, but you ought to take a step back and think about what you can do in response.¡±

    Max pinched his nose, ¡°I know that I can¡¯t fight like you, or don¡¯t have contacts like you, but I can¡¯t just sit here and let him get away with it!¡±

    ¡°Welt and the people he¡¯s working with are digging their own grave. The worst thing a man like Welt can do is react like this. He used to have the benefit of being an important political figure, but now that he¡¯s implicated in this, the police aren¡¯t going to hesitate.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve been utterly useless so far,¡± Max complained, ¡°What¡¯s going to change now that he¡¯s killed a few people?¡±

    ¡°I understand your cynicism, but given the circumstances, it¡¯s hard to imagine that they will take the matter lying down. Welt has decided to play a different type of game than he¡¯s used to, and he will likely come to regret that in due course. He can¡¯t use his influence or good manners to stay above the fray.¡±

    ¡°How did this happen?¡± he wondered.

    ¡°Welt¡¯s cutting everyone loose.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Everyone who knows that he is involved with those enhanced assassins. It appears that Cedric was one of those select few. Welt and his collaborators decided to ¡®pay him back¡¯ for his cooperation by killing criminals in the district, but he wasn¡¯t happy about it, and that led to him contesting their plan.¡±

    This conflict was about to heat up ¨C and I still had no idea what Welt and his friends intended to do with their new private army. Was it enough to overthrow the government and restore the Van Walser¡¯s to their original powers? I doubted that. Such a movement would require significant foundations to be in place first.

    I was stumped.

    ¡°That face you¡¯re making isn¡¯t filling me with confidence, Maria...¡±

    ¡°Oh no. It is going to get worse before it gets better.¡±

    After all ¨C Samantha and Claude hadn¡¯t turned up yet, and what would a good narrative climax be without all of our main characters?

    <hr>

    Marco¡¯s eyes strained under the harsh spotlight that was being cast onto him. A single lamp had been placed on the table in the interrogation room and pointed directly towards his face. His hands were still chained together and now looped through the back of his chair to keep him from moving.

    They hadn¡¯t given him a five-star welcome, that was for sure ¨C though it was better than he expected given his infamous reputation. He was one of the most wanted men in the country, and now they finally had firm evidence of his misdeeds. The attempt on Welt¡¯s life was a complete failure on all counts.

    His biggest challenge was yet to come. Veronica Gladwell was the one interviewing him about what happened that day.

    ¡°Tell me exactly what you saw.¡±

    Marco closed his eyes and tried to keep them from watering; ¡°There was nothing unusual until we reached the Grand Rose. We¡¯d planned the whole thing out from the start. One of us would distract the private guards out front, and then we¡¯d bust in from every angle and catch them with their pants down.¡±

    ¡°What happened once we moved into the cellar?¡±

    He grimaced, ¡°We cleared the place out and headed to the back entrance. Some of us stayed in the bar to keep an eye on the other door. We were about to try and bust the door open when they showed up. All hell broke loose. I was the one who killed the original assassin who attacked the Church Street gang.¡±

    ¡°You were?¡± Veronica muttered, ¡°Why did you do that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He broke into my house and tried to murder me, so I defended myself.¡±

    ¡°Do you think that they possibly had a list of other targets in the area?¡±

    ¡°I keep a tight lid on who knows about what I do. They¡¯d have to be a past client to get that information. As soon as he locked eyes with me, he dropped what he was doing and knocked on the door, then he blew it open with his magic when I refused to open it.¡±

    ¡°And the fight outside the bar?¡±

    ¡°They were just as tough as that man was. We tried to fight back, but they were durable and willing to use magic to disarm or kill us. I told everyone to scatter, and the last few who could get away did. I stayed behind to try and score a shot on Welt.¡±

    Veronica didn¡¯t even try to get their names. Marco was going to refuse to talk.

    ¡°How did you know that Welt was involved?¡± Veronica inquired, ¡°We¡¯d only just received a warrant for his arrest at the time.¡±

    Marco grinned. This was what he was waiting for the whole time, a piece of information that Veronica probably didn¡¯t know. It was rare to have a hidden card when dealing with a WISA agent.

    ¡°Maria Walston-Carter told me. No idea why ¨C but I sent some of my men to check it out and it all lined up. She was right.¡±

    ¡°Mari-" She caught herself. "Walston-Carter did?¡± she said with scepticism on her face.

    ¡°One of the gang kids was keeping an eye on Robert¡¯s place, and apparently they were already acquainted, so she told her and they intercepted me while I was leaving. She told me that Welt was one of the people responsible, and didn¡¯t seem to care for one second that I was going to kill him.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s expression told the tale to Marco. It wasn¡¯t a surprise that Maria was getting into trouble ¨C but it wasn¡¯t a happy revelation for her either. Marco put himself in Veronica¡¯s shoes for a moment. He wouldn¡¯t have been happy to have his daughter tangling with paid killers either.

    ¡°And did she suggest how she got that information?¡±

    ¡°Adrian Roderro was there. I think they made Cedric Roderro sing about his little Church Walk project. That was the place where all of the carnage was happening.¡±

    ¡°And now he¡¯s dead. One of those assassins just painted the parlour room at a local pub with what was left of his skull.¡±

    Marco was unphased, ¡°He played with fire ¨C and that¡¯s what happens.¡±

    ¡°The men you sent to investigate Welt, did they find anything else worth sharing?¡±

    ¡°Nothing that you don¡¯t have already,¡± Marco explained, ¡°That he and a few friends were shipping the assassins from place to place, buying lots of drugs to keep them docile and easily coached. I¡¯m afraid that if you want answers, you¡¯ll have to speak with the man responsible.¡±

    ¡°And do you want to see him go down?¡±

    Marco smiled, ¡°I don¡¯t get paid if he doesn¡¯t.¡±

    Veronica flattened a stray strand of her hair and frowned. Money wasn¡¯t going to do him any good when he was behind bars for a laundry list of criminal offences, but it was his pride talking. He wanted to see the goal through even if he didn¡¯t benefit from it.

    ¡°-And he killed some of my friends too.¡±

    Veronica paused.

    ¡°You have friends?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You should know as well as I do that we¡¯re not monsters. What shocks people the most when they learn about me and what I do is how normal I am when I¡¯m not working a job. They can¡¯t accept that it¡¯s all so banal. Do you see yourself as a mindless killer?¡±

    ¡°No, but WISA policy says we aren¡¯t allowed to make friends.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh. Does it say that you¡¯re permitted to have children?¡±

    ¡°What they don¡¯t know can¡¯t hurt them.¡±

    Marco chuckled, ¡°I would threaten you with that information - but you¡¯re only going to break my balls for trying.¡±

    Veronica stood from the chair and finally tilted the light away from his face. Marco breathed a sigh of relief.

    ¡°True, but this is out of my hands. I can¡¯t offer you anything in exchange for your silence. I hope that you¡¯ll not give the police officers trouble when they question you next.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping my mouth shut,¡± he replied, ¡°That¡¯s what my lawyer told me to do.¡±

    ¡°Smart.¡±

    With those parting words, Veronica stepped through the door and passed by the one-way mirror that looked into the isolation room. The observation area was empty too, and the only police officers were waiting outside of the cell by the second door. That was how discrete a WISA visit to the jail was. They weren¡¯t permitted to eavesdrop on the content of their discussion.

    ¡°Are we good to clean the room, Miss Gladwell?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Keep a close eye on him. He¡¯ll be an important witness.¡±

    ¡°Aye Ma¡¯am. He¡¯ll be under watch all day and night.¡±

    Veronica did not take them at their word. She would have to ask.

 Chapter 132

    It was almost time for us to return to the academy. I could happily sneak away from the manor whenever I pleased thanks to Franklin and some of the other staff, but being tardy repeatedly would raise red flags, and my Father was keeping a closer eye on what I was doing after the incident with Veronica. I didn¡¯t blame him. He was actually being very magnanimous by not asking too many questions about that whole ordeal.

    The first thing that happened when I came back onto campus was that Samantha chased me down like a goddamn bloodhound.

    ¡°Maria! Maria!¡±

    I turned back to face her with a smile, ¡°Hello Samantha.¡±

    A few months ago, running after me would cause her to double over to catch her breath. Not anymore.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you back at the academy so soon.¡±

    ¡°Why are you back early?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I decided to escape before my brothers threw more of their chores at me.¡±

    Samantha seemed none the worse for wear. Despite having to work her fingers to the bone ¨C she valued her family a lot. Getting to see them again for a week and a half put her in a better mood than when she left.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you worried about Dalia?¡±

    ¡°Talia?

    ¡°No, not Talia. The other one ¨C Dalia. She was giving you grief before we left for the two-week break.¡±

    Samantha stared at me as the gears in her head became unstuck and the memory of what was going on finally returned to her.

    ¡°Oh! That girl. Sorry, it completely slipped my mind! I was so busy taking care of things back home that I basically put all of this school stuff away and forgot about it.¡±

    Wonderful. She wasn¡¯t even worth remembering.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I should tell you that Adrian and Maxwell are not going to be here for the start of the term.¡±

    She tilted her head, ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not in the newspapers yet ¨C but Max¡¯s brother was injured in an incident where Adrian¡¯s uncle died. They¡¯re both at the hospital in the city as we speak. All of Max¡¯s family are going there as soon as possible, and Adrian has to worry about managing his uncle¡¯s estate and organising what to do with his body.¡±

    ¡°Wait, wait a minute. When did all of that happen?¡± Samantha begged of me.

    ¡°Yesterday. Adrian¡¯s uncle got involved with some shady characters ¨C and it seems that Muwah was in the room when they decided to go after him.¡±

    There was a longer and more detailed explanation but I could only give her that in private. Saying it out loud in front of the school¡¯s front courtyard was going to cause more trouble than it was worth.

    ¡°Goddess above,¡± she swore, ¡°So all three of you were in the city?¡±

    I hushed my voice and leaned in, ¡°Adrian asked me for help with a problem caused by his uncle. We did some investigating of our own because he thought Cedric was trying to kill him.¡±

    ¡°Was he?¡±

    ¡°Probably, yes. Before we could resolve that he was killed by one of the men he was working with.¡±

    ¡°How did he feel about it?¡±

    ¡°Only the Goddess knows,¡± I replied.

    I dragged Samantha inside and started to walk the usual route up towards the dorms. The academy was technically open for most of the period when the students were on break, though very few chose to remain on the grounds. Only those who lived far away and didn¡¯t like going home would do that. It was early so there were few ears to listen in on our conversation.

    I didn¡¯t want to risk it. My room was the best place to hunker down and hash out the details. I left my luggage by the wardrobe and locked the door so that we could go through every incident that led to the shooting.

    Samantha listened intently as I walked through the story. She was completely silent, allowing me to continue without interruption. Her reactions to some of the information were curious. Shock, horror, outrage. She had the worst poker face out of all of us.

    ¡°I go away for one week and this happens!¡±

    Such developments were easy to have cascade when under the watchful eye of a god pulling the strings. Samantha was still a true believer, and positing that I was experiencing a fictional story from my past life designed and deployed by her specifically to recruit me, was a bridge too far even if she was willing to go along with what I said most of the time.

    Durandia put me here because she used the Red Tree to see how events unfolded. It calculated all of the parameters and came up with an outcome that was preferable to letting this world take its natural course.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°You were busy at home. I was hardly going to send you an urgent missive demanding that you end your holiday early. Besides ¨C at the time I only believed that we were trying to scare Cedric down the right path.¡±

    Samantha pouted ¨C upset over being left out of the ¡®fun.¡¯ She must have seen it as a betrayal of the trust we¡¯d built over the past few months. I know that Durandia said she was the second part of the double act required to save the world, but plunging her headfirst into danger was not a sound strategy and I was trying to avoid doing so.

    ¡°And your Mother didn¡¯t have anything to say about what happened at the fort?¡±

    ¡°Why would she?¡±

    ¡°I would have thought that beating your face into mush would have greater implications...¡±

    I toyed with a strand of my hair, ¡°She didn¡¯t mean anything by it.¡±

    Samantha stuttered, ¡°What do you mean she didn¡¯t mean anything by it? What kind of Mother does that to her own daughter? She clearly doesn¡¯t care for you.¡±

    ¡°I disagree. She cares a little too much if I¡¯m being honest. So much that she¡¯s willing to sever all connection between me and her, and that¡¯s why she went that far back at the fort. It was all a means to an end.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t hate me. She¡¯s trying to maintain a level of distance between us, because the biggest threat to my wellbeing is WISA finding out that she gave birth to me, at least that¡¯s what she assumes.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s quirked brow and thinned lips said that she did not agree with my assessment of the situation. She must have grown up with a mother who lavished her with care and attention and never laid a finger on her. Veronica had an extreme personality ¨C and that was why she resembled me.

    The problem now was that the threat was larger than even what Hoffman and his followers were capable of manifesting. Veronica would be eager to sort that out because her primary concern was creating a safe Walser in which my father and I could live. That brief time she spent with him must have made a serious impression on her to go that far.

    How could I convince her that we had the same aims and that combining our abilities would be for the best? She would refuse to go along with any plan that endangered me unless I had leverage over her. It was unlikely that a situation like that would arise again, and she might even choose to take a risk instead of submitting to what I wanted.

    ¡°So, Max is staying at the hospital until his brother is in the clear?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°That¡¯s correct. They¡¯re sparing no expense in trying to heal him, so the likelihood of the injuries being fatal is lower than it would be otherwise. Once they have stabilized his condition, Max will be coming back here.¡±

    Samantha stared at me while I sat on the edge of my bed and unpacked some of my belongings. The gears were turning again. She had plenty of previous incidents to go on when it came to judging what I was planning on doing.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t going to get involved in trying to find him, are you?¡±

    Now that was a frankly absurd proposition. Why would an innocent noble girl like myself go to all that effort?

    Samantha stood up and pointed my way, ¡°And don¡¯t give me that bloody look again. It doesn¡¯t matter how hard you flutter your eyelashes at me!¡±

    ¡°The Goddess said it to both of us. There is no avoiding the fact that you and I are the chosen ones. She expects us to save not just Walser, but the entire world at that.¡±

    ¡°Maybe so, but that doesn¡¯t mean we have to meddle in the business of those foolish people in the city. Why are you so convinced that this has something to do with what the Goddess said?¡±

    ¡°Because those foolish people have been doing foolish things! They have a collection of magically empowered lunatics blasting their way through the city and killing anyone they come across. If that doesn¡¯t scream ¡®potential disaster in the making¡¯ then I don¡¯t know what does.¡±

    Samantha groaned and threw her hands up in the air.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t what I¡¯m trying to say. You¡¯re only one person. You can¡¯t be solely responsible for running from coast to coast, taking out bad guys and cracking skulls like one of those novel detectives that Claude loves.¡±

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to go anywhere. You¡¯ve noticed this already ¨C but trouble seems to have a terrible habit of finding us first. I will not be caught flat-footed after getting this far.¡±

    ¡°And for what? You¡¯re risking your life for no good reason.¡±

    ¡°If I wasn¡¯t doing this ¨C then you, and Max, and Claude, and Adrian, you¡¯d all be dead by now. You¡¯re important.¡±

    Important. Important to the future of this world.

    ¡°Important?¡± Samantha repeated. She chewed on my choice of words for several seconds without replying. When she did, it was obvious that she took it as a more soft-hearted idea than what I had in mind; ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you saw us all that way. You¡¯re usually so cold, especially to the boys...¡±

    It was not a misinterpretation worth dispelling. It was helpful if Samantha saw me as selfless. That was a personality trait she valued highly when assessing other people. She liked honest, forthright, upstanding and kind folk the most. Her family had espoused the positive benefit of all of those attitudes. She was the perfect underdog heroine. Nothing like me at all.

    Yin and yang, light and dark, restoration and nihility...

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to sneak out and try to be the hero again, then I¡¯m coming with you.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    She struck at me with her most dazzling smile, ¡°Because we¡¯re friends, right?¡±

    The jury was still out on that one.

    <hr>

    Interior Minister Arnold Blatt had decided to grace the WISA head office with his presence. It did not take long for Veronica to get a picture of where the conversation had gone while she was away questioning Marco Fisichella about what he knew. She hung by the door to Frankfort¡¯s office ¨C where the debate was so loud that it could be clearly heard through the walls.

    Frankfort was red in the face.

    ¡°You don¡¯t get to give me orders, Mister Blatt.¡±

    ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that arresting Sir Welt is in itself a step that compromises Walser¡¯s national security! He has a tremendous amount of support in parliament, and what will the public think if this gets out?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my job to coddle the wider public. WISA is here with a mission statement that discriminates against no man! I would have thought that you, of all people, would understand the need to evenly apply the law.¡±

    There was another problem. Blatt wasn¡¯t supposed to know about the arrest warrant.

    ¡°When I first heard rumblings about what was going on, I believed it was too insane to entertain! You can¡¯t march in and arrest a sitting MP without a very good justification.¡±

    ¡°I have eyewitness testimony from two active duty officers, documents, and statements from people involved, all of which provide ample probable cause to apprehend and question Mister Welt.¡±

    To belabour the point Frankfort pulled those documents from the folder and spread them across the desk with a flick of her wrist. Veronica could hear them hitting the table.

    ¡°Would you like to argue against the evidence, Minister? If we don¡¯t take action and nip this problem in the bud ¨C then I fear that the consequences could be much worse than unsettling the public.¡±

    ¡°But-¡±

    ¡°Why are you so eager to empower those who use illicit means to attack you? Welt isn¡¯t a concerned citizen, he¡¯s an experienced lobbyist and agitator, who has now dipped his toes into the realm of criminal conspiracy. He¡¯d be more than happy to take your head.¡±

    ¡°This is about moderation, Frankfort. Moderation is everything that we do ¨C toeing that fine line between the two sides of the aisle. We are not establishing a precedent where the government can abuse WISA¡¯s authority to arrest its opponents.¡±

    ¡°Then you can take it up with the judge who approved the arrest, not me.¡±

    That was her final word on the situation. Blatt was frustrated, so he stormed out of the room and allowed her to have that small victory, but they both agreed that it was only the first round of what would become a long and arduous debate. Veronica stepped in to fill the gap.

    ¡°Trouble with the politicians again?¡±

    ¡°Honestly ¨C they¡¯re willing to dig their own graves!¡±

    As Veronica assumed from outside the door, Frankfort looked flustered about the whole affair. She never sported this frustrated expression when dealing with her own agents but politicians had a special ability to rub her the wrong way. She counted her blessings that they so rarely visited the head office in person.

    Due to the unique circumstances around WISA¡¯s formation and history as the monarchy¡¯s secret police, there was no singular person who held authority over their actions. There was a government oversight committee headed by the Interior Minister - but part of the Compromise treaty demanded that the newly formed WISA remain an apolitical operation with a consensus selection for their leadership.

    Amazingly it was one of the few consensus mechanisms that didn¡¯t produce endless gridlock in parliament. The parties would often stipulate their choices and hold an uncontested vote. Some Interior Ministers saw things differently. Blatt was one of those types, who acted under the tenuous legal theory that the Interior Minister was the one responsible for keeping them in line, even if their responsibilities in law didn¡¯t name WISA as under their purview.

    ¡°Marco said that he investigated the matter on his own. He must have found evidence connecting Welt directly to the assassins.¡±

    ¡°He isn¡¯t going to be forthcoming with it, though.¡±

    ¡°Maybe if you dangle a slight sentence reduction in front of him ¨C he¡¯ll bite. He seems like the type to do whatever it takes to get off easy. Not one of those two-bit gangsters who sell each other stories about undying loyalty...¡±

    ¡°We have to move quickly and arrest him soon. If Blatt found out about it then the press won¡¯t be far behind.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the risk of people becoming agitated?¡±

    ¡°At the moment it¡¯s low, but Welt and his friends are more than capable of engineering circumstances to rile them up. It may be prudent for the police to release a statement instead of allowing those vultures at the newspapers to speculate on why he¡¯s being pursued...¡±

    This was all above Veronica¡¯s pay grade.

    ¡°What about the other handlers?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re leaving us to it, and no, we haven¡¯t had any luck finding our missing agent either.¡±

    ¡°I never knew Jones was so good at hiding. He was always the first to open that big mouth of his when someone became antagonistic.¡±

    Bernard Jones. The name hovered at the back of her mind like a spectre. Where the hell was he even hiding? Every WISA agent had already been put on notice about his actions at the morgue. It was rare for compromised agents to last this long without being caught and hauled back to HQ for a friendly chat.

    ¡°His lawyers are probably knocking at the door of the judge right now,¡± Veronica said, looking through the window and onto the building across the road.

    ¡°They¡¯re not going to have the warrant rescinded after the police¡¯s testimony. They would be better off advising him to surrender at his earliest convenience.¡±

    ¡°As if an entitled fellow like him is going to do that. The entire point of this scheme is to defy the authorities. There must be an anti-government angle to this entire thing. Welt has always been interested in restoring the monarchy, that¡¯s why he¡¯s in the Restoration Party.¡±

    ¡°Do you believe that a handful of enhanced men and women could overthrow the government? It sounds unlikely to me.¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°You always say that I take the most pessimistic position ¨C but I feel there¡¯s a strong chance that it could cause major instability in Walser. The only blessing we can count on is that tensions between us and our neighbours are at a historic low.¡±

    ¡°That would quickly change if they felt there was a benefit to fighting with us. They¡¯re like a pack of vultures circling above us.¡±

    The monarchist parties hated stability. The recent periods where they found themselves out of government and on the opposition benches were not the profound disasters that they proclaimed during the run-up to the elections, and many citizens saw the fearmongering as undue. In their zeal to win ¨C they had created conditions that were not favourable to them.

    The longer this went on the less reason people had to fear voting for the democratic parties. They were demonstrating that they were no worse than the monarchists, and in most cases, they didn¡¯t revel in their own corruption quite as much. Attitudes were being cemented as they wasted away on the wrong side of the parliament chamber.

    Anything could happen in politics, and it often did, but it would take a serious shift in public opinion to reassert them as the dominant force in national government. The longer they waited the worse the situation became. Younger voters were inclined to vote for democratic parties, and two-plus decades post-compromise they were starting to become politically active.

    Welt¡¯s disdain for people having the power to steer the direction of Walser was not secret. He was often one of the most frequent contributors to that school of thought. He could be found slamming lecterns and giving speeches from podiums across the East Coast, all of which drilled down onto a specific set of themes.

    Walser wasn¡¯t what it used to be.

    Of course, it was easy to assert that when you refused to grapple with what Walser used to be like before the Compromise was signed. According to Welt, it was a nation of gold-paved streets and endless opportunity. Whether he really believed that earnestly was up for debate. He would benefit monetarily and in terms of influence if the democratic reforms were rolled back.

    Frankfort shuffled her papers around, ¡°Lots to do and no time to do it in. We¡¯re trying to stem the supply of ferdinol from reaching his affiliated businesses, which should hopefully keep them from conditioning and deploying their soldiers for the moment.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re still missing the bigger picture here, but I haven¡¯t found any evidence that hints at what they¡¯re trying to do. It may be an attempt to restore the Van Walser family, but what form will that goal take? Those demon-infused killers are tough, but still not large enough in number to fight the police, WISA and the military.¡±

    ¡°We are asking a lot of questions to the appropriate people. I¡¯ll update you if we find testimony of note.¡±

    Veronica turned to leave and continue with her own inquiries, but Frankfort called out and stopped her before she stepped through the door.

    ¡°Gladwell, I hope that you don¡¯t harbour any positions that may compromise our working relationship.¡±

    Veronica kept her eyes forward, ¡°We¡¯ve been working together for a very long time now. You know me better than anyone else. My only concern is creating a safer Walser, no matter where it leads me or what enemies I make. That¡¯s all.¡±

    But the question was not unprompted. Frankfort was extremely deliberate with her words.

    ¡°Even if those enemies were once your allies?¡±

    ¡°I mean what I said,¡± Veronica persisted, ¡°If WISA stops acting in the interest of protecting Walser - then my loyalty may change.¡±

    Veronica continued staring out of the door, unwilling to face Frankfort and expose any weakness in her answers. How was she reacting to what she said? The silence stretched on and on until she finally spoke once more.

    ¡°Even when Walser abused you? Trained you? Used you? You were one of those lost children. It would be natural to harbour resentment for society with that background. The other lost children do.¡±

    ¡°Is this leading to a point?¡±

    ¡°What would drive a woman like yourself, with those kinds of pure intentions, if you¡¯ve already dedicated your life to service in our care? What did you see that was so worth protecting?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that it¡¯s a secret, although I suspect that you already have the answer.¡±

    Frankfort, for the first time in almost two decades, laughed at her response. It was subdued and dignified, but unmistakably her laughter.

    ¡°You know ¨C it was reassuring in a way.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°You were always an enigma to me. The perfect agent. Cold and efficient, and without any moral qualms. You executed every order I gave you without asking any more than what was needed. I couldn¡¯t comprehend it. But now...¡±

    ¡°Now?¡±

    ¡°Now I can see that there¡¯s more than just a ¡®weapon¡¯ beneath that outer shell. Perhaps another handler would be outraged at the deception, but I¡¯m not them. Now I¡¯m certain that you will follow through on what you¡¯ve promised because you have a good reason to. Not for self-interest, or prestige, or a medal from the top brass.¡±

    Veronica faced her again and kept her arms tucked into her lap.

    ¡°Do you remember? How did it feel?¡±

    ¡°How could I forget? It changed my life.¡±

    Frankfort nodded, ¡°Then I will not say any more. Let¡¯s keep it between us. I do feel very foolish for not noticing it earlier.¡±

    ¡°You say I¡¯m good at following orders, killing, torturing ¨C but that? That was the hardest decision I¡¯ve ever had to make, and I pray that it remains that way. And now it¡¯s why I keep marching on.¡±

    ¡°For her.¡±

    ¡°For Walser and for her.¡±

    ¡°You could go and see them. I won¡¯t tell.¡±

    ¡°The day I go crawling back there is the day I turn in my badge - if I even survive that long.¡±

    ¡°Stubborn to the end.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been keeping this up for thirteen years. I¡¯m not going to change course now.¡±

    Veronica left, her heart pounding at the inside of her chest like a hammer. She had made a grave error of judgement. She always strived to ensure that not a single living soul knew about Maria, but now Frankfort had figured her out. The studies she was doing in the archives, the way she reacted to her name being brought up, a perceptive shrew like Frankfort could put the pieces together, including the mysterious six-month sabbatical she took.

    Frankfort was a career government servant. She joined WISA long after the rules and regulations were changed. She didn¡¯t understand the sheer terror that the previous leaders utilised to keep their ducks in a row. The potential for information to leak out or for their loyalties to be compromised was unconscionable. They aggressively stamped out any such occurrences with lethal force.

    It wasn¡¯t only the agent who served the death penalty for such indiscretion.

    A little voice in the back of her mind told her to solve the problem, to go back into that office and kill her before she could share it with anyone else, but her rational side won out in the end. There¡¯d be a time and a place for tying up loose ends ¨C but this was not it.

    She kept her eyes forward and moved on to her next task.

 Chapter 133

    Two days after Cedric¡¯s death, news broke that Gerard Verner Welt was wanted by the police for questioning. There was only one person I could think of who would be bold enough to seek a warrant for an influential man like him, and that was Veronica. She was actively working to track down the source of the souped-up killers wreaking havoc across the city.

    The most amusing part of the entire story was the different stances that each major newspaper took depending on who was running the editorial department. There were a few approaches they took to handling the news. To assist in that effort the police and the court refused to speak about the matter for the sake of protecting the integrity of the proceedings.

    The ambiguity was what they needed to make of it as they liked. The Daily Reader ¨C a monarchist supporting paper, went with a headline that danced around the fact that Welt was actively evading a warrant with ¡®Verner Welt Sought for Questioning.¡¯ This was followed by a blustery, outrage-filled article where vague accusations of misconduct were thrown around.

    Smaller papers like the Walser Sun were more antagonistic; ¡®Police Outlaw Monarchist Parties? Verner Welt Targeted by Establishment!¡¯

    On the other side of the aisle was the Walser Worker, a socialist and trade-unionist-focused paper. They didn¡¯t mince words when it came to Welt, sticking with ¡®Mad Monarchist Welt Evades Police! Restoration Party Silent on Rogue Leader.¡¯ There was only so much material to play with ¨C so their article was also light on facts and heavy on rhetoric as well.

    Also: Welt wasn¡¯t actually the leader of the party, but he was perceived as an important, senior member. Either way, it was the perfect bludgeon for the democratic papers to hit them with.

    In the centre, there were several other news outfits like the Walser Guardian. They went with something plain; ¡®Verner Welt Slips Police Net. Police Mum on Search for Politician.¡¯

    All of them had tried to get more details out of the police and the courts, including attempting to unseal the arrest warrant and the evidence that was used to get it. The problem was that WISA was one of the interested parties so that alone was enough reason for them to put it under lock and key. Short of breaking into the courthouse and seeing the physical document there was nothing for them to do.

    The police also refrained from making extraneous comments about the controversy, releasing a prepared statement that said they were looking to question Mister Welt in connection with a series of recent incidents, and that the court found ample cause to give the go-ahead for their operation.

    In short ¨C there was no end of discussion and opinion about Verner Welt¡¯s sudden and violent fall from grace. Depending on who you asked he was either the devil incarnate or a martyr for the restoration cause. Even the kids at the academy were starting to get in on it, mostly by taking the opinions of their parents and regurgitating them wholesale without any critical thought.

    ¡°I have to admit; my Mother works quickly.¡±

    Samantha sighed, ¡°Are you sure she¡¯s involved?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t foresee any of the police being interested in pursuing him like she does. It¡¯s already causing new battle lines to be drawn by the politicians and the people. It took her three or four days to send the entire nation into a maddened fit. She was not going to take ¡®no¡¯ for an answer.¡±

    For all of her faults, Veronica did not compromise when it came to getting results. I could perfectly picture the worried faces in the court and the police headquarters as this singular WISA agent trampled over their mock concern about political civility. Compromise be damned ¨C she was going to get her answers one way or another.

    ¡°It just seems strange. Can one person really have this much of an impact?¡±

    ¡°They can. In troubled times like these, all it takes is one person to change the course of history. They will be speaking of this incident for decades to come. Funnily enough, it is so rarely the people who seek to make an impact that do so. Nobles worried about their future image are as common as they are hapless.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t Adrian¡¯s uncle trying to do that?¡±

    I mentioned this to her before.

    ¡°What he wanted was to leave his mark on the city by demolishing Church Walk and turning it into a neighbourhood in his image. All of his claims about fighting crime or providing better living standards were merely theatre to convince the city council and their opposition. What he wanted most was to leave a lasting legacy.¡±

    Demolishing parts of a city to follow some planning-based dogma was one way to have your name immortalized. I doubted that Cedric was seeking Robert Moses-style infamy when he came up with the plan though. Now he was likely going to be remembered for getting his head exploded in a smoking parlour.

    ¡°Do you ever want to put yourself into the history books?¡± she asked innocently.

    My brow rose, ¡°Not exactly. I¡¯m not one to seek the spotlight.¡±

    I was more focused on surviving day by day than making elaborate future plans to make people remember me. There would be nothing more humiliating than falling into a false sense of security and having my efforts turned into a monument to my hubris by Durandia¡¯s meddling fingers.

    A nice, quiet ride into the sunset was what I expected, and perhaps it was also what I preferred. I¡¯d been keeping up this act as the arrogant noble girl for so long that I was starting to grow tired of it. Not that I could stop. It was second nature to me at this point.

    ¡°Really? Everyone stares at you when you enter that room, and that laugh you do sure is attention-catching...¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t laugh like that because it attracts attention. What kind of girl do you take me for?¡±

    Samantha giggled, ¡°Sorry, sorry. I wasn¡¯t trying to accuse you of doing it on purpose. It¡¯s just so distinctive that I can¡¯t help but mention it.¡±

    She was right about that. Laughing like an ojou-sama was an old clich¨¦, and it was reserved for only the highest class and meanest ladies. Maria fit the bill. She was an absolute terror and fabulously wealthy. Was I even deserving of the honoured laugh when I was decidedly less aggro than the version of Maria from the game? It was meant to strike fear into the heart of the player, or admiration from people who loved that type of character.

    ¡°It was pretty darn shocking coming to this academy and meeting you for the first time. You¡¯re larger than life. Everyone makes these crazy rumours about you, and they¡¯re not even connected to the actual crazy stuff you do.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s keep that between us, shall we?¡±

    Samantha nodded.

    Out of the blue, Adrian marched into the study room.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you back so soon,¡± I said.

    He turned to face me with an irritated expression, ¡°Goddess help me. There¡¯s too much bloody work to do! I couldn¡¯t wait to get back here and focus on studying. That¡¯s how bad it is.¡±

    ¡°Work?¡± Samantha pondered.

    ¡°Since... the incident, I¡¯ve ended up inheriting everything that my uncle owned on top of all of the other things I have to manage. I¡¯ve got line managers from every one of his business ventures knocking at my door and asking if they¡¯re going to keep getting paid. I¡¯ve had to tell all of them that we¡¯re going to continue as normal, but the paperwork alone to get his body released took me hours.¡±

    ¡°And then you had to visit your Father, I presume.¡±

    ¡°I did. Breaking that news to him is the hardest conversation I¡¯ve ever experienced.¡±

    He flumped down onto one of the chairs like a jellyfish and stared up at the roof.

    ¡°I want all of this to end already. I thought it was bad enough when my Dad got himself arrested.¡±

    I knew it was bad when Adrian considered coming back to the academy a refuge from his other responsibilities. Adrian hated studying, and he chafed whenever a teacher tried to steer him in a different direction. A lot of them had given up since he always had such a negative reaction to their guidance.

    For the time being his anger at the sudden influx of issues was keeping him from reckoning with the emotional toil that the death of his uncle was having. I could easily imagine him suffering some buyer¡¯s remorse now that he was dead even if we didn¡¯t have a direct hand in it happening. Even with acrimonious relationships like theirs, there was still a certain kind of trauma that was left behind.

    ¡°Why did Welt do this?¡± he murmured.

    ¡°I did not say this at the hospital ¨C but I suspect that he felt pressured by the investigation, and emboldened by the prospect of having you take Cedric¡¯s place. He is interested in collecting influential supporters. Family heads are the most desirable.¡±

    ¡°Stop trying to pin this on me.¡±

    ¡°I am not. The arrival of the police was the more important of the two. He wants to tie off any loose ends and get rid of disloyal people who know about his plans. Cedric fit that description.¡±

    ¡°Can we please talk about something else?¡± he quipped. He¡¯d heard enough of this while he was dealing with the fallout.

    ¡°Fine, not that I have other topics of interest to discuss at the moment.¡±

    ¡°I could talk about my time back home?¡± Samantha offered.

    ¡°I highly doubt that Adrian will find the everyday labours of a farming family to be enrapturing listening,¡± I contested.

    Stolen story; please report.

    He shook his head; ¡°Anything at all is better than thinking about my Uncle. Please, by all means, bore me into a lull so that I can stop worrying about this mess for an hour or two.¡±

    ¡°Really? You want to hear about mucking out the pens and feeding the animals, and waking up at six in the morning?¡±

    ¡°Sure, why not?¡±

    He was going to regret giving her the go-ahead for this. I could tell.

    <hr>

    ¡°I want you to send a letter to Ferrand and direct him to obstruct this nonsense for as long as possible.¡±

    It was hard not to overhear the booming tones of one Gerard Verner Welt as he marched angrily down the corridors of a remote estate building along the coast of Walser. The large building he was hiding in once served as a sanitorium for those struck with the plague, but the advent of methods to fight against such diseases meant it no longer served a purpose.

    Welt was angry for two principal reasons.

    One, the courts had somehow found the nerve to issue an arrest warrant against him. Now the entire country was on the lookout for any sign of him. It was always going to be risky playing this game ¨C but he did not expect it to happen so early in the process.

    The second was the sanitorium he now called home. This was no place for a man of his station. The long corridors and occasional missing window allowed cold air to blow in from the coast and sea. It was perched atop a hill that would have offered picturesque views of the white cliffs if not for the destitution of most of the floors.

    He was in no mood to sit by a shattered window on an uncomfortable wooden chair so that he could watch the clouds roll by. He felt like a villain in one of those detestable pulp novels, curled up in his menacing stronghold of solitude with a scowl on his face and nothing but evil intent in his peanut-sized brain.

    In short, Welt continued to insist that the printing press was the single worst development in the field of literature. Some things were simply not meant to be brought and aimed towards the masses. It was an insult that some citizens chose to use their gift of literacy to read such sensationalist nonsense.

    He could no longer move freely. His lawyers were working day and night to try and overturn the warrant and clear his name, but the overzealous response of the reaction force meant that they had good reason to keep up the pursuit. Welt began to wonder if it would have been easier to answer their questions and be released on bail.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see to it right away, sir.¡±

    His servant bowed respectfully and left to do as he ordered. Welt liked servants who took initiative and executed his instructions immediately, instead of getting caught up in formalities and waiting for him to tell them how to breathe properly.

    Welt took refuge on the few floors of the building that were not left to rot. They were not warm, or well-considered, but at least the windows were still intact, and it was possible to live there in secret without missing too many home comforts.

    ¡°Sloan, are you here?¡±

    He walked through the lonesome halls of the building, progressing down the floors until he reached the basement. This was where the magic happened, and where most of the experiments were conducted. It was well-insulated and kept outsiders from overhearing what was going on inside.

    Landon Sloan was fiddling with a set of vials at his workbench near the stairs. He was a short-statured man in his late forties. He was almost never seen without a pencil in one hand. He would fiddle with it no matter the situation, even when there was nothing to write down.

    ¡°Oh, Welt ¨C I was wondering when you¡¯d decide to pay me a visit. Didn¡¯t you come and hide here two days ago now?¡±

    ¡°I was busy and had nothing of import to tell you until now.¡±

    Frigid as always. Sloan bit his tongue and tried not to get riled up.

    ¡°Aye. I saw your boys hauling him into the guest room. I take it that you wish to speak with him now?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    That was his way of ordering Sloan to come with him for the visit to their new guest. He pocketed his pencil and put his experiment on hold for the time being, following along until they reached one of the locked rooms that could be found on the lowest level. They used to be isolation cells for the patients who caused trouble, but now they¡¯d been turned into makeshift hospital rooms for the sake of their goal.

    ¡°Are you sure this bloke was worth all the trouble? You¡¯re at risk of revealing your precious hiding spot to the police.¡±

    ¡°Two heads are better than one, Sloan. Unless you seek to contest his position as the foremost expert on these matters?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not egotistical enough to try that ¨C but the proof is in the pudding. Our new friend hasn¡¯t done anything with that wealth of knowledge that is worthy of acclaim. He¡¯s the sort that prefers to do nothing but write papers and keep his hands clean, suckling the teat of whatever University is willing to house him.¡±

    ¡°I thought that you intelligentsia were all about solidarity.¡±

    ¡°Please, don¡¯t lump me in with him.¡±

    Welt moved the matter briskly along and opened the door, revealing a desperate-looking man cupping his head while sitting on the edge of his cot.

    ¡°Mister Cambry.¡±

    He glanced through his fingers at the two men; ¡°You have an odd way of inviting a man of science to your... horrible torture dungeon. I thought those damnable cultists were back when those goons of yours dragged me out of my home!¡±

    Welt bowed his head mockingly, ¡°I humbly apologize for the distress caused. You must already know why I¡¯ve brought you here.¡±

    Genta stood from the bed and pointed at him, ¡°You¡¯re yet another mad fool who believes that you can control what lies beyond the veil. I was worried about this. You can spare me the grand speech about what applications you believe they may have, I¡¯ve heard it all before.¡±

    ¡°You seem very confident about my intent.¡±

    Genta tapped the side of his head, ¡°I may have forgotten much of my own work, but all of my father and grandfather¡¯s writings are still up here. I must insist ¨C you simply cannot control these creatures! If not for their malevolence, then their instinct-driven nature. They simply attempt to fulfil their desires with no regard for what their summoners want.¡±

    ¡°And what of the summoning circles?¡±

    Genta waved away the idea, ¡°The runes utilised in those circles are far too primitive and simple for what you intend. To summon a Horr and use it like a human soldier - it¡¯s frankly absurd.¡±

    Welt smiled, ¡°I appreciate your candour even under duress. To give your words due weight, a Horr is something like an explosive device. We can send them to a particular area, but the results will be unpredictable, and will not discriminate.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s an accurate description, yes.¡±

    Sloan laughed, ¡°See? I told you. Not a brave bone in his body.¡±

    ¡°And who is this?¡± Genta inquired.

    ¡°My name is Landon Sloan.¡±

    Sloan had a sour face. He was not happy to see Genta Cambry.

    ¡°Are you honestly wasting your time listening to this edgy fool? If we were to follow his principles we¡¯d have no progress at all.¡±

    ¡°Is he incorrect?¡± Welt asked.

    ¡°No, but it betrays his lack of ambition. His only use for this information is to warn others not to venture further. Listening to his hackneyed pleas for moderation is enough to make my stomach turn. For your information, Genta, we¡¯ve surpassed the need for the Horr as weapons in themselves.¡±

    Genta adjusted his glasses; ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Why worry about controlling an intra-veil creature when we can simply borrow their power? We don¡¯t need them to be alive to do that. All we need is a physicalized body from which we can draw the required material. Simply transfuse some of its blood into a willing subject and...¡±

    Genta roared, ¡°Do you mean to say that you¡¯ve injected their blood into another human being? Have you lost your good senses - man?¡±

    ¡°That we have. And the results have exceeded our most optimistic projections. They demonstrate a combat prowess factor that exceeds even the best-trained opposition forces. They have more magical energy than the most dangerous grade-five mages.¡±

    Sloan was gloating about his successes, but Genta was not easily riled by the competitive nature of the man standing in his face. His outrage was reserved for the flippant attitude he demonstrated towards the subjects in question.

    ¡°You have lost your mind. You cannot simply take the blood of a demon and inject it into someone¡¯s heart. There could be any number of unforeseen consequences!¡±

    ¡°Consequences or not ¨C we can always replace them. Our current batch has been operating in the field for weeks without a problem. I¡¯d say that a handful of lives are a worthwhile trade for the direct combat power they offer. This is a revolution in warfare with implications that stretch far beyond Sir Welt¡¯s aspirations. This could transform Walser into the foremost power on the continent!¡±

    Genta shook his head mournfully, ¡°Walser already is. If there was ever a good time to cease seeking more, to find refuge in moderation, then this would be it.¡±

    Welt cut back in, ¡°Our enemies will not seek that same refuge. Even as we speak they sharpen their knives and develop new cutting-edge weapons. They only seek a window of opportunity, a moment of weakness, and then they will be upon us like a pack of starving predators. I will not shed a tear for the sacrifice of a few when it serves to protect millions of lives.¡±

    But Genta could read Welt. He was too obvious.

    ¡°Stop talking rubbish. If you¡¯re going to hold me hostage for this mad plan of yours, then at least respect my intelligence by being upfront about your reasons.¡±

    Welt remained silent, merely motioning for Genta to follow them deeper into the laboratory area. He complied, tucking his head down and trying not to focus on the distressing sights and sounds that surrounded him. He was led into a room in the middle of the basement ¨C which contained a refrigerated room once used to store blood and other perishable items.

    A small window looked into the refrigerator, and what Genta saw confirmed his worst fears. There were three rows of glass containers on the only populated shelf. They were filled to the brim with a black substance that Genta was already familiar with. It was the black bile that filled the veins of the demons who manifested in the physical world. Describing it as ¡®blood¡¯ understated how toxic it could be.

    ¡°I hope you understand how unethical this is. Putting the wrong type of human blood into someone¡¯s body can easily kill them. What possessed you to try it with this swill?¡±

    Sloan¡¯s eyes narrowed, ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate you insulting my research.¡±

    ¡°Research? You¡¯re a no-good butcher, not a scientist. Any old fool can take a needle filled with poison and inject it into a victim.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand the work I¡¯ve put into this. Your prejudice is blinding you to the utility that this compound has!¡±

    Sloan was two seconds away from slugging Genta across the jaw for besmirching his work, although Welt had no appetite for witnessing physical violence no matter how justified he felt it was. Genta turned his attention to Welt in a fleeting attempt to make him change course.

    ¡°That ¡®blood¡¯ contains highly concentrated magical energy, in fact, it¡¯s so energized that it can break the bonds between the atoms in the human body and cause whatever tissue it meets to degrade.¡±

    ¡°And that empowers their magic.¡±

    ¡°Yes - but it also kills them,¡± Genta fired back with no small amount of snark in his voice, ¡°Additionally, the composition of the bile is more viscous than human blood. It can clog the arteries and cause increased strain on the heart as it tries to push it through the body. If you don¡¯t perish from having your atoms scrambled or your organs crushed, then there are also several other mysterious properties that pose significant dangers on top of that.¡±

    ¡°Mister Sloan has already come to those same conclusions. The compound we use is diluted to the point wherein the risk of heart failure is a non-factor.¡±

    Genta had a lot more to say about the bile and the different elements that it was composed of, and how they impacted the human body if they were to hypothetically be introduced into the bloodstream or digestive system, but Welt and Sloan were already well past that point. They simply did not care about the lives of the people they transfused it into.

    ¡°I¡¯m giving you two choices. You can assist Mister Sloan in refining this concept, and help us secure a steady stream of Horr bodies to extract it from, or you can sit in that isolation cell until we are through with our plan.¡±

    Genta¡¯s eyes whipped back and forth between the sneering visages of his new hostage-takers. This was nowhere near as dangerous as the adventure that Veronica took him on, but the risk was every bit as real. They could kill him and dump his body into the ocean if they felt like it.

    The safest option was to play along.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll... try to find a type of Horr that¡¯s safe to summon, easy to butcher, and contains what you want.¡±

    Sloan sighed, ¡°Charlie! Charlie!¡±

    A young voice cried out, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a new job for you!¡±

    A young man, no older than fourteen, emerged from one of the other doors and approached the group. He was the spitting image of Sloan, sans a few decades of wear and tear and the marks of aging. Genta¡¯s heart sunk into his stomach as he realised that he was also deathly pale, with grotesque black veins pushed to the surface of his sheet-like skin.

    ¡°I need you to keep an eye on Mister Cambry here while he settles in. Welt sent the other guards away for something.¡±

    Charlie scowled, ¡°What happened to all of the exciting stuff?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. There¡¯ll be plenty more of that in the future.¡±

    Genta tried to swallow what he was seeing, but that lead ball was too big to go down easy. He looked at Sloan, he was proud as any good father could be, even when he was face-to-face with the greatest sin of all.

    ¡°He can have lab three.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Come on then,¡± Charlie urged, ¡°We don¡¯t have all day.¡±

    Too shocked to speak and quaking from silent outrage, he resigned himself to the fact that he was once again surrounded by the criminally insane. Genta followed Charlie away from the refrigerator and towards his new home.

 Chapter 134

    Another day ticked over and I started to get that sinking feeling. I was sitting on my butt and doing nothing while Welt and his co-conspirators cooked up something awful. It was time to prepare myself for whatever crisis was soon to occur. The most important aspect of my skillset to brush up on was magic.

    Magic was the key to this. A gun was all well and good, but those assassins Welt deployed could tank several gunshots without slowing down. A bolt of electricity could seize up their muscles and keep them from moving for a short time, but ideally, I would be able to kill them quickly and efficiently should the need arise.

    Nihility magic was anything but efficient.

    In fact, by its very nature the category of spell I was supposedly good at wasted an immense amount of energy. It was intended to break the bonds between atoms and molecules ¨C destroying whatever it touched within milliseconds. That was not an efficient use of the human body¡¯s magical reserve. I could cast it maybe three times around a medium-sized area before collapsing from exhaustion.

    How could I rework this technique to be more effective? I scoured my brain for any good ideas for hours without progress. Nihility was not a school of magic that people chose to learn or write about in great detail. It was once considered taboo before the invention of guns and explosives made everyone reconsider how dangerous it actually was.

    But even with that ban lifted and scholars exploring the topic tentatively, their papers and reports were shallow and without detail. They theorized about useful applications for a magic spell that could atomise harmful compounds or destroy large quantities of manmade garbage.

    Adjusting the energy used on the fly was going to be impossible on command. There was no way for me to predict how much energy needed to be applied to any one area to break it apart. The only option then would be to carry a mana crystal with me to leech energy from ¨C but they didn¡¯t store much, and to bring them in any scale would weigh me down. Not to mention the fact that they were hard to come by even when you had the money to buy them.

    The inputs and outputs didn¡¯t line up. The compromises were too difficult for me to assess, and once I locked into one course of action, I couldn¡¯t change my mind on the spot if the situation proved disadvantageous to me. If I wanted to make nihility magic work, I would have to think outside of the box and crack the secret behind it.

    I wasn¡¯t the brightest bulb in the box. I was only good at killing people and doing social engineering, so expecting me to come up with a new way to use magic that much smarter people hadn¡¯t was a losing bet. But there was also the consideration that Durandia saw use in giving me and Samantha these contrasting powers. Why give me it if she didn¡¯t expect me to use it?

    Breaking guns by snapping my fingers was a neat party trick ¨C but when I also had a gun that wasn¡¯t nearly as helpful as just shooting my target. I was sitting on one of the stumps at the practice area when Miss Jennings showed up on the scene to make sure that everything was in place for the next term.

    ¡°Oh! Miss Walston-Carter! Working hard before the term even begins, I see.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Miss Jennings. It¡¯s been a while.¡±

    She laughed, ¡°A while? We¡¯ve been away for two weeks. It is a pure expression of youthful indiscretion to describe two weeks as a ¡®while.¡¯¡±

    Over time I¡¯d come to know Miss Jennings better than any of the other teachers, and with it, she also revealed her humorous side. She was normally putting on a stern act to scare the bad kids straight in her lessons ¨C but the passion oozed out of her when she was allowed to talk openly about magic.

    ¡°Have you continued to walk the path of nihility since last we spoke?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t had much time to focus on developing my magical theory lately. It seems that every two seconds there¡¯s a new urgent problem that derails whatever I intend to do.¡±

    Jennings smiled, ¡°I know the feeling. You¡¯re already well aware of how chaotic things were when the previous Principal resigned from their position. I¡¯ve never seen a first term like that before.¡±

    ¡°Besides ¨C nihility spells seem like more of an inconvenience than the others. The nature of it fills people with dread, yet to use it as a weapon is highly dubious. They hear of unparalleled destruction and project their own expectations from there.¡±

    ¡°As I always like to say, there are very few useless spells out there, and history is littered with examples of people pursuing formerly ¡®meaningless¡¯ fields until they discover a revolutionary new way to utilise them.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. Yet I am in no position to feel that same sense of desperation,¡± I joked, ¡°The only reward for this is to flatter my own pride.¡±

    Jennings shrugged, ¡°If any teenager is going to revolutionize magic - I imagine it would be you.¡±

    ¡°Please, I¡¯m hardly a deft hand at magic and this type of lateral thinking is beyond me.¡±

    Jennings was confused; ¡°Really? You have fantastic grades. The other teachers lament how their lessons are sometimes lost on you. You¡¯ve destroyed their most advanced material within months of starting.¡±

    That ¡®advanced material¡¯ was less complex than the type of content that they taught in middle school back home. None of the noble children attending this academy were expected to have prior formal education beyond knowing the basics. Very few of them were given private tutors. Once the rust was rubbed away I found it extremely easy to keep up.

    It was going to be the same all the way until our final years here. Many scientific and theoretical concepts were recent discoveries and discussions, and even those may not have been integrated into our curriculum.

    ¡°I have no reason to give up, but also no reason to be optimistic.¡±

    Jennings wasn¡¯t sure what to say in response to that. She was trying to encourage me to be more ambitious, but I was a bitter and world-weary middle-aged man in a teenager¡¯s body. I could not pretend to be excited at the prospect of another futile pursuit.

    ¡°Has Samantha been making progress with her own studies?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°She already saved a life with it, and now she wants to become a Doctor.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s wonderful! Have you given any thought about your own future?¡±

    No.

    ¡°Yes, though it¡¯s likely that I will inherit the family fortune and have the ¡®freedom¡¯ to do as I please. My Father has been persistent in preparing me for a life in the world of business, given that I¡¯m an only child.¡±

    ¡°I see. You certainly aren¡¯t unique in that regard. There are many children who come to the academy with similar ideas in mind.¡±

    ¡°I find it rather tiresome. Part of me wants to sell it all on once I inherit the empire. I would not be left wanting for money.¡±

    Jennings had an unexpectedly different outlook on the matter from what I anticipated.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you feel that it¡¯d be a shame to give up on it so easily? I don¡¯t believe that you¡¯ll find your true calling in the absence of your family¡¯s business ventures, and perhaps you could even do a lot of good using them.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Like charity?¡±

    She smiled, ¡°Not simply charity, although it is an unvarnished good to support such causes. I read an interesting book by Professor Dalton Waters recently. It was all about how businesses could enhance the public good by advocating for mutually beneficial developments. He used an example of a tramline that runs through Eichental. It used to be owned by one of the local factories, and now it serves the general public in a city that¡¯s often paralyzed by horse and cart traffic.¡±

    ¡°Ethical business, I suppose.¡±

    We were a few decades away from motor vehicles appearing on every road in Walser too. That land in the city was going to rapidly depreciate in value as everyone rushed to use the new thing, only to then rise again once they discovered how constricting cars could be in an urban area.

    ¡°The point I¡¯m making is that should you sell them, you cannot confirm that the new owners will run them correctly or ethically. Sometimes the only person you can rely on is yourself. You have to believe in your own ability to do good.¡±

    ¡°And what if I believe that I¡¯m not that type of leader?¡±

    ¡°I think you are.¡±

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Appearances could be misleading. The mistake that Jennings was making was boldly declaring that I would walk off into the sunset after my usefulness came to an end. It was doubtful that Durandia had any plans of letting a murderer like me enjoy a second bite of the apple.

    Sorry, Dad ¨C you¡¯ll have to track Veronica down or get a new wife to sort all of that mess out. Maybe she could just rip my soul clean from Maria¡¯s body and slot in a new personality like some kind of hellish flesh robot. She tried to reassure me during our discussion using the catalyser, but I had no reason to accept that she was telling the truth.

    Faith was a dangerous tool in the wrong hands. Samantha was always going to agree with whatever she said. She was raised in a god-fearing rural family who instilled positive values in all of their children. I could see the friction forming between us when I questioned Durandia¡¯s motives with her present before.

    That was my own fault for not telling her the truth. Samantha would not understand my perspective without knowing all of the facts. I was sure that if she knew my past, she¡¯d also question Durandia¡¯s honesty in saying that this was not a divine punishment for my actions.

    I wasn¡¯t going to grovel. I was going to fight like hell and see if I could eke out a win.

    If not, then there was nothing to be angry about. There was no realization for me to reach. Killing people for money was bad. The Saturday morning cartoon morality lessons were totally lost on me. That was all a mark in her favour, in terms of describing me as a tool to use to see her will played out. This wasn¡¯t about the ¡®lesson,¡¯ nor was my situation intended to be ironic or poetic.

    ¡°Samantha mentioned that you often speak of yourself in pessimistic terms around her. Is this a side that you only reveal to the people you¡¯re closest with?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m confident in my abilities, that¡¯s all. When you begin asking questions about morality, ethics and leadership? That is when I express doubts.¡±

    Jennings was not sure what I meant ¨C but she was old enough to know that I wasn¡¯t going to explain why that was if she asked.

    ¡°I still think that you could find a good use for nihility. You have a good way of looking at things from a new perspective, thinking outside of the box.¡±

    Where the hell was she getting that impression from? I may have been good at following instructions during our lessons, but it was a big leap to declare that I was going to find a special use for this power that nobody else had figured out before me.

    Jennings set about doing what she came to the training range for, making sure that it was all in order before our first lessons back. We were already closing in on the end of our first year at the academy, and what an eventful nine months we¡¯d endured thus far. The weather was taking a turn for the cold again.

    Without being able to carefully adjust the power used, or the ability to carry large quantities of energy with me, the only option left would be...

    A catalyst.

    Assuming it worked like a chemical reaction, where bonds were broken by inputting a certain amount of energy, the only option would be to find a catalyst that could lower the energy required to decouple those bonds. It would not be a traditional catalyst. It had to be usable in hand too.

    The lightbulb above my head flickered to life. A magical catalyst like the one used in Henry Snow¡¯s magical amplification chamber. The very same amplification chamber where we spoke to Durandia before. It was right there in front of my nose the entire time. Henry Snow was the man with the answers I was looking for.

    When Jennings turned back, she found that I was already heading to the main building with unusual haste.

    ¡°Was it something I said?¡± she wondered.

    <hr>

    ¡°All we can say is that this is a politically motivated attack on one of the largest parties in parliament. Gerard Verner Welt has long fought for the restorative cause using all legal means ¨C the suggestion that he is a participant in criminal activity is a gross abuse of judicial power!¡±

    Veronica could be seen at the back of the mid-sized crowd gathered by the parliament square. At the head of the pack was a blustery man wearing a bright blue rosette on his coat. His voice was projected through a conical speaker designed to attract as much attention as possible. In this case, only those sympathetic to Welt stopped to listen.

    Veronica had an inkling that he was one of the Restoration Party¡¯s MPs. She had no idea which one. They all blended into an amorphous blob, and they rarely stuck around for more than a handful of terms before disappearing into the ether. She was not here outside the Theatre to listen to a rousing political speech from a junior MP.

    One of her reliable outside contacts asked to meet her here. Elke had some good information ¨C but he was also a shameless gossip who loved keeping up with all of the news coming from the parliamentary bubble.

    ¡°I see you¡¯re engrossed in his speech, Veronica.¡±

    ¡°Why the hell did you invite me to see the clowns?¡± she complained.

    Her contact, Elke, laughed under his breath.

    ¡°It¡¯s not possible for me to ignore politics like you do. This is where all of the big stuff happens. The circus is in town! Every one of them wants to have their moment in the spotlight.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not disputing that. I can¡¯t stand listening to them talk. They don¡¯t believe a word they say.¡±

    ¡°Is it better to be intentionally dishonest, or simply stupid?¡±

    ¡°Being mistaken is more forgivable.¡±

    The speech rolled on; ¡°We¡¯re being beset on all sides by our historic enemies. Avatria is already preparing to launch an assault from the south! They intend to sweep through our heartlands and take our fertile land, and the mines that power our industrial growth! Yet our government wastes time persecuting their opposition!¡±

    Elke couldn¡¯t keep the smirk off his face, ¡°Isn¡¯t that interesting.¡±

    Veronica grumbled, ¡°Avatria isn¡¯t on war footing at the moment. They¡¯re just rattling sabres again.¡±

    ¡°If anybody is going to pick a fight with us ¨C it¡¯s them.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not on a war footing,¡± she repeated, ¡°There are so many spies in Avatria at the moment that they can¡¯t organize a piss-up without us knowing about it.¡±

    Not to mention that there was little appetite for war from the public across the border. Stereotypes, somewhat truthful, were that Walser was filled with a bunch of violence-loving lunatics, armed to the teeth and ready to shoot any invading soldiers at the drop of a hat. An invading army would inevitably have to deal with armed resistance and organized militias on top of the military response.

    The other issue was Walser¡¯s sheer size. It would be difficult for an invading army to match across the craggy south and control large swathes of territory without leaving troops behind to control the captured settlements. The army would therefore grow weaker in time.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll stop teasing you and get to the point. I¡¯ve got what you asked for here.¡±

    He handed over a beige folder stuffed to bursting with different notes and papers.

    ¡°I thought that Welt was going to divest his stake in the company when you found out about the ferdinol shipments - but they¡¯re importing even more than before. I guess he feels that there¡¯s no point hiding it or trying to distance himself now.¡±

    Elke had ears in a lot of... legally dubious fields. When Veronica wanted to know the high-level picture of where things like narcotics or weapons were coming from, he was the man who she turned to for answers.

    ¡°I also tried getting info about where they were renting space or buying land, but that was a lot harder. Some authorities don¡¯t have open records about land transfers, and they would only give it up to me if I had a good reason or permission from the company.¡±

    Veronica flipped through the dossier and took in what she could. She would need to find somewhere private for a deep dive into the gritty details. A map of Walser was marked with several red X¡¯s ¨C spread evenly across the landscape and in every major town and city.

    ¡°Those are the places I could confirm by annoying the clerks, but they have a lot more.¡±

    Launching areas from where they could deploy their new ¡®secret police.¡¯ They wanted to have a firm hold on those major centres of power when the time came to launch their ultimate plan. Veronica was confident in guessing that they wanted to take over and depose the government, restoring some fifth-rung Van Walser to the throne and using them as a puppet. The current King was not outwardly supportive of changing the status quo.

    She flipped to the next page. A breakdown of all the drugs being bought and smuggled according to his sources.

    ¡°Ferdinol is coming from legal and illegal channels. They¡¯re moving heavily into illegal methods at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Because I found out that they were using the clinics and medical facilities as a front to purchase it without arousing the police¡¯s attention. There¡¯ll be a hard limit on how much they can import. The gangs don¡¯t like running medical drugs anymore.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s what I was thinking too. They¡¯ll have to keep using this hybrid approach and hope that they don¡¯t crack down hard on the practice.¡±

    ¡°Pft. It¡¯ll take the police at least a month to even consider stepping in. They have to do a feasibility study first...¡±

    Veronica snapped the folder shut and tucked it into her pocket.

    ¡°Anything else to share?¡±

    Elke chuckled, ¡°You¡¯re so eager to get away from this speech. Not an engaged voter, I take it?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter what colour rosette they wear ¨C nothing much changes when it comes to parliament. They only instituted the Compromise because we killed each other enough to make them worry about Walser¡¯s security.¡±

    Veronica was not jaded enough to declare that nothing ever changed. She was on the frontline of a lot of those changes. They often happened behind closed doors or away from the ballot box. WISA becoming a public agency was a switch she never believed would come given its checkered past.

    Elke scratched his chin, ¡°It¡¯s been a while since you relied on me for info. Is something up at the office?¡±

    ¡°Nothing important. I¡¯m trying to get ahead of what Verner Welt is doing.¡±

    ¡°Not like you¡¯re going to tell a civilian what¡¯s going on in there.¡±

    ¡°I mean it. I¡¯m showing some initiative like my handler wants me to.¡±

    ¡°I hope you find him, I really do, but running through every one of those marks and trying to stumble across the bloke isn¡¯t going to work. Why the hell is WISA being so hesitant with this?¡±

    ¡°Frankfort used up every bit of political wiggle-room she had to get that warrant, and now we can see the results for ourselves. They¡¯ve whipped themselves up into a frenzy over it instead of trying to make some distance. They¡¯ll regret it when he has his day in court and all of the sordid details come out.¡±

    Elke stared through the crowd at the politician on stage. He was enjoying the limelight, inflaming tensions and speaking in defiance of reality. Those who listened to him were already on his side. Those who were not simply passed by the spectacle and shut their ears to his rhetoric.

    ¡°Makes me feel a little sick, seeing them talking about how he isn¡¯t being treated fairly. If he wasn¡¯t who he is, there¡¯d be none of this. I guess being a violent maniac is all well and fine when you pass it through the lens of politics.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t new,¡± Veronica replied, ¡°When all of the Goddess¡¯ churches fell out of favour with the people ¨C they started to deify these public performers instead. We can¡¯t judge them when they make a choice that hurts people, because it¡¯s all a matter of opinion. A game. It¡¯s just politics.¡±

    ¡°Still, there¡¯s been a lot of good progress lately.¡±

    ¡°Oh, spare me your trade unionist talk. I¡¯ve heard it a thousand times before.¡±

    ¡°Unions are great!¡±

    ¡°I never said they weren¡¯t!¡±

    Aware that their argument was bound to attract attention from the nearby monarchists, she pulled Elke away from the show and pushed him back the way she came.

    ¡°I almost forgot, but Gertrude told me that she got an interesting customer a while ago.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t share that with me. You¡¯re breaking her trust.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t spill it to anyone else. Maria Walston-Carter showed up and started asking for info on Cedric Roderro. Pretty strange, right?¡±

    ¡°I already knew that.¡±

    ¡°How the chuff did you already know?¡± Elke scoffed, ¡°You¡¯re pulling my leg.¡±

    No. Maria loved getting into trouble. How she wished that was the case...

 Chapter 135

    Charlie Sloan was taking his job of guarding Genta extremely seriously. It was almost uncanny having a pale teenager watching over him. Genta could hardly focus on his ¡®work¡¯ with him hovering over his shoulder or standing in the doorway. It had only been one and a half days since his arrival.

    He¡¯d staked his claim on a small research room away from where Landon could be located. The more distance between them the better, though the feeling was probably mutual. Landon didn¡¯t respect Genta or his work one bit. He found the sight of him detestable.

    The walls were already covered with pieces of paper from his experiments ¨C although Genta had zero intent of delivering anything usable for as long as he could get away with it. He was sure that Welt and Sloan would have no issue in using human sacrifices to get Cath with the appropriate levels of aggression and magical power.

    Weaker Cath, who were less aggressive and easier to butcher, could be summoned by using the flesh of animals. They weren¡¯t going to contain a high concentration of magical energy in their blood like Sloan wanted.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t you summon whatever and shoot it?¡± Charlie wondered.

    ¡°A lot of the Cath have skin and muscle so thick that they can absorb the impact of a gunshot. You would need a better way to kill them than that. I already said how problematic this entire scheme is ¨C but they won¡¯t listen to me.¡±

    ¡°Lock them in a room and shoot through the door.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no guarantee that the Cath can be contained by something as simple as a locked room. Some have the ability to modify the nature of what surrounds them, like that horrible beast at the fort that turned what it saw into gold...¡±

    Charlie leaned against the wall and continued to observe while Genta worked at the bench to create some summoning circles to tide over his captors. He would occasionally look over at the young man and be shocked all over again about how pale and squalid he looked. Was he on the doorstep of death? It looked that way.

    The curiosity became too much for Genta to endure. He wanted to ask questions about what was going on, and why Sloan poisoned his own son with the demon¡¯s blood given how dangerous it was. Genta would have never risked allowing the human body to come into contact with it.

    ¡°Why did your Father agree to do this?¡± Genta asked.

    ¡°What makes that your business?¡± he replied snidely.

    ¡°Because I find it odd that he¡¯s willing to risk the life of his own son.¡±

    ¡°He said it didn¡¯t matter either way. I was already in and out of the hospital all the time ¨C and I¡¯ve never felt better than I do right now.¡±

    Genta brushed the sleep from the corners of his eyes, ¡°If you were in such a poor condition I can understand it, but if he¡¯s so concerned about your health and wellbeing, why did he send you out to do such horrible things? You could easily die out there instead.¡±

    Charlie laughed like it wasn¡¯t even worthy of being discussed.

    ¡°Die? I¡¯m invincible! He used the best batch of that stuff on me and me alone. I¡¯m not like those other walking corpses he uses. I¡¯ve got to keep all of my brains, and he told me that it¡¯s my duty to go out and make a difference while I have the chance. I finally get to see the outside world and do what I like.¡±

    ¡°How many people have you killed?¡±

    Charlie shrugged, ¡°A couple dozen, I think.¡±

    Genta shivered and turned back to the desk. It was similar to Maria in a sense, but there was no weight behind the admission he made. Again ¨C it was entirely beneath his notice. Killing people to him was a chore assigned to him by his Father and nothing else.

    When Maria got involved with the cultist situation, he never once got the impression that she found anything amusing about what was going on, or that she thought any less of the weight of what she did. The fact remained that she shot and killed more than a few of them...

    Charlie watched in silence for the next hour while Genta tried to come up with something to show Welt that wouldn¡¯t help him in any way whilst sparing his wrath. Welt wanted to meet with him every day that he was present at the sanitorium for some unknown purpose. Genta could think of better matters to spend his time on.

    ¡°It¡¯s four. You need to go and see Welt.¡±

    Genta shuffled his notes into a pile and sighed, tucking them under his arm and following the young boy through the squalid underground levels that the building sat upon. Welt was upstairs, so they had to go through the arduous process of climbing several flights of steps to reach where he was staying.

    In typical fashion ¨C he¡¯d claimed the nicest and most liveable room in the property as his personal office. Charlie remained by the door.

    ¡°You wanted to speak with me?¡±

    Welt tried to offer a disarming smile even when the contours of his face made that impossible.

    ¡°Mister Cambry. I¡¯d like to have a discussion with you about what we¡¯re trying to do here. I¡¯ve found that hostile relationships are not productive in both business and personal matters.¡±

    Genta shook his head, ¡°Kidnapping me was a poor start in that case.¡±

    ¡°First impressions are important but they are not the sum total of what our relationship can be. I hope that you will come to understand the wisdom of what we are hoping to achieve here. Despite what you may think, I am a cautious man. I prefer to cause as little noise as possible.¡±

    Genta walked deeper into the room and sat down on the chair that was placed in front of his desk; ¡°You and I will not be able to see eye-to-eye. Those who believe that they can harness the power of the Cath are common ¨C and their failures numerous.¡±

    ¡°Then we simply have to excise the uncontrollable from our plan. If we are speaking of humans rather than monsters, then the matter becomes simpler in nature. Between you and Sloan, I feel that I have more in common with you. Sloan is always so eager to break boundaries and rush ahead with no regard for what may arise.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m opposed to your methodology, your lack of morals, and the goals that you seek to attain. I see no common ground for us to speak on. I would prefer that we cease playing silly games. You want me to help you overthrow the government.¡±

    Welt clicked his tongue, ¡°No, no. Not overthrow. That¡¯s the talk of trade unionists and self-styled revolutionaries, who can¡¯t accept what the common people desire. There will always be a ¡®government¡¯ in Walser. They ensure that everything is running correctly, like a well-crafted train schedule.¡±

    A nervous jitter started to emerge in Genta¡¯s voice, ¡°M-Most would disagree with those semantics. Vesting ultimate power in the royal family is overthrowing the government, whether you agree to that description or not.¡±

    ¡°Mister Cambry ¨C don¡¯t you feel a strong sense of shame when you look at the state our of nation? The abject humiliation of our destitute streets, districts like Church Walk, allowed to rot and fester in our once great cities? This has only been allowed to occur because there are now a thousand voices arguing for every decision.¡±

    The change in approach was so sudden that it almost knocked him out of the chair. Welt was speaking with venom in his tone and daggers in his eyes. He could not conceal the outrage that simmered beneath his fa?ade even when he was trying to be earnest with a potential collaborator.

    ¡°Leadership should be decisive. Not only is it a great shame for our nation¡¯s reputation, but it is also a failing that impacts those who are forced to live there. Imagine if the royal family decreed that Church Walk be cleaned up! We wouldn¡¯t have to rely on men like Cedric Roderro to handle it, and even he couldn¡¯t surmount the meddling fingers of corrupt city councillors and unemployed busybodies.¡±

    His rant paused. Genta took a deep breath and pushed his glasses up onto his nose.

    ¡°A man who truly cares for Walser would not risk plunging it back into a civil war. You lived through it. Why do you wish for those nightmarish times again?¡±

    Welt stood from his seat and intended to continue his fiery tirade. He thought better of it given the sullen tone that Genta was using. He was not a man who would be convinced through inflammatory rhetoric. He was concerned about what may happen should he agree to help.

    ¡°I am not trying to create another civil war. Too many of our brothers and sisters were killed, but do you really believe that they all felt so strongly about who should lead them? The sad truth is that most were not so invested in the outcome. They wanted to exact revenge on the people who harmed them. It became violence for violence¡¯s sake, and nobody was willing to lay down arms and be the first to call for discussion.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°You forget your history. History you lived. The consequence of failure here is to spark a second period of turmoil. Is that a risk you are willing to shoulder?¡±

    ¡°We will not.¡±

    ¡°There is no such certainty!¡±

    Genta stood to match his height, his face twisted into a furious scowl.

    ¡°No matter the means you use to achieve this lofty goal, there will be those who choose to resist it. It only takes a small number of them to begin the cycle all over again, but you are too submerged in your own reality to see it!¡±

    He threw the papers down onto his desk and held up his hands.

    ¡°There are my thoughts. I will not assist you in this mad endeavour any further. I entertained pretending to agree with you out of fear, but I am done with that. I¡¯d rather preserve my Goddess-given soul than spend any more time listening to your inane drivel!¡±

    ¡°Mister Cambry...¡±

    This was not what Welt expected from the meek and neurotic man he met on the first day. His patience had snapped clean in two, partly driven by previous events with the cult which originally stole his work. He was taking his stand here and now.

    ¡°You are on a very treacherous path ¨C Mister Welt. I often observe that the means men use have a profound impact on the outcome they seek, so do not deceive yourself with assurances of how you will be vindicated in the end, of how those ends justify whatever blood stains your palms.¡±

    Welt stood and watched while Genta bowed his head and left the room in a hurry.

    ¡°I suppose you do have a spine after all...¡±

    <hr>

    I arranged a surprise visit to the museum the following day before the term started. I rode the carriage all the way back into the city just so that I could needle the curator for answers about how the Etherscope worked. I marched through the front door and headed into the large lobby area that was dedicated to it.

    He was somewhere in the building, but unlike our previous meeting, there was no letter from Mister Snow to direct him to see me. I was left to my own devices, so I took the time to get a closer look at the Etherscope and catalyst chamber that he had constructed years before my ¡®birth¡¯ and Durandia¡¯s behest.

    Xenia having no issue with speaking to me without this chamber suggested that there were rules and limitations I hadn¡¯t been privy to. Durandia may have used up a lot of her power in summoning me and arranging all of the pieces into their correct placement. The Etherscope was her fall-back plan. She could use it to thin the ¡®membrane¡¯ between us and the Veil.

    Somehow!

    I wanted to find out how it worked. There must have been a principle that Snow applied to its construction that amplified the outgoing magical signal. The machine looked outwardly complex but I had a good feeling that at least one part of how it operated would be helpful to me.

    It wasn¡¯t long before the Curator spotted me. It was only then and there that I recalled that the Curator never gave us his real name.

    ¡°Miss Walston-Cater, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today?¡±

    ¡°I was hoping to visit and ask you some questions. Apologies for the rudeness, but I never got your name before.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Mister Gladly. It slipped my mind during our first meeting. I was so excited to finally fulfil a long-held promise to Sir Snow that I forgot to say!¡±

    He tilted his head towards the Etherscope.

    ¡°Is there anything else I can do for you?¡±

    ¡°I am interested in the way that the Etherscope operates.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not at liberty to interfere with the exhibits, aside from that one special exception. Sir Snow never asked me or the previous Curators to dismantle his work to assist you. Apologies. He was very clear about what needed to be done.¡±

    ¡°I understand. My curiosity is about the mechanism behind the Etherscope. If there are any other records that could assist me in my search I would love to see them.¡±

    He murmured under his breath and looked up, ¡°There is one other way I could let you explore the Etherscope. I suppose it wouldn¡¯t be a horrible idea, given the level of trust that Sir Snow seemed to have in you...¡±

    ¡°And that is?¡±

    ¡°The archive room. We have copies of almost every blueprint and thesis he ever wrote, including detailed plans and thoughts for the Etherscope project. It¡¯s a closely guarded collection.¡±

    ¡°It would be an honour to see it,¡± I said.

    Now that he was talking about it, he was somewhat forced to continue his train of thought and entertain me. He escorted me up the stairs and into the back corridors where our gunfight happened. There were still signs of damage and bullet holes in one of the marble walls. Behind an unassuming blue door was the archive he spoke of.

    It wasn¡¯t as big as I expected. It was a medium-sized, rectangular room rammed to the gills with two dozen bookshelves and filing cabinets. The stale smell of old books was overpowering. There was a table and set of chairs in the middle of the main aisle for the curators to use while conducting research.

    He rifled through the various books within the cabinet and returned a moment later with a thick red tome. It was entitled ¡®Henry Snow ¨C Design and Notes Vol. 3.¡¯ He blew the dust away and handed it to me.

    ¡°Very few people have the privilege of seeing his notes. This is the book that contains the design process behind the Etherscope.¡±

    I flipped it open carefully but discovered that these weren¡¯t the original papers that Henry Snow used. They had been carefully recreated and typed out before being reprinted into a compiled format using modern techniques.

    ¡°Oh, the original papers are in glass cases and kept very well protected. For preservation¡¯s sake, the Henry Snow Society recreated most of his writings and printed them anew for study and appreciation. Some of his earliest works were on paper that has sadly not stood the test of time, and a flood thirty years ago caused a lot of damage. We moved it all up here to keep it dry!¡±

    I checked the index and found where the Etherscope was documented. It dominated a large portion of the book, covered in over a hundred pages of excruciating detail. I would be in the museum all day if I read the whole section. Instead, I moved to the back and searched through the glossary for any mention of a catalyst.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for information about the catalyst he used,¡± I explained, ¡°For a personal project of mine.¡±

    Mister Gladly was seemingly relieved that I was not trying to build my own recreation of the Etherscope. I could only imagine how dangerous that entire process would be for an uninformed fool like myself. He was more than happy to share what he knew given that revelation.

    ¡°The catalyst? It should be there under the name ¡®Kursiela.¡¯ It¡¯s a fairly rare mineral that can mainly be found overseas. It has a series of fascinating qualities that make it highly coveted by foreign magicians. Us here in Walser, and our neighbours, never quite caught on to that little secret.¡±

    In the K section was exactly what he attested to. Kursiela, noted down as an important component of the Etherscope and a powerful magical catalyst. I travelled to the page where the full explanation awaited. It was tucked into the guts of a long passage about how the Etherscope worked to thin the barrier between ¡®our¡¯ world and the ¡®next¡¯ one.

    Snow knew a lot. He was even starting to theorize about the existence of the Veil. No doubt he was spurred on by his interactions with Durandia to explore that idea in greater detail and ambition. A large quantity of Kursiela was used in the construction of the Etherscope chamber. The walls were lined with the stuff, and a loop system pushed energy through filters, lines of thin sheets arranged in a particular manner, to further enhance the effect.

    ¡°Sir Snow believed that magical energy was like air. Many of his most innovative creations focused on creating channels through which that energy could flow. When magic was pushed into Kursiela alloy ¨C it was discovered to catalyse the reaction and generate more energy-rich air in response. This made casting spells easier and more efficient.¡±

    ¡°If it was so effective, why was it not widely adopted?¡±

    ¡°It was expensive to build and rather clumsy in implementation, and by that point, modern machinery was both cheaper and more exciting for investors. Sir Snow almost went bankrupt from the amount of Kursiela he imported to construct it! It speaks to his love of the sciences in my opinion.¡±

    ¡°But it sounds almost as if it can generate infinite energy.¡±

    Gladly stroked his beard, ¡°That is possible. The limitation comes from the Kursiela itself. There is only so much of it available, and each ¡®fin¡¯ generates a fixed amount of energy-rich air when infused.¡±

    The process went like this: magical energy would react with the Kursiela, thinning the barrier between this world and the veil and allowing energy-dense matter to flow through the cracks, this would make spellcasting easier for the mages situated in proximity. That was why it was described as a catalyst.

    I double-checked my thinking by reading through what Snow concluded. He was less candid with the facts than I expected, perhaps out of fear that his discoveries could be taken and used for the wrong purposes. You give a man knowledge and he¡¯ll try to find a way to kill someone with it.

    Snow was a lively orator and his enthusiasm got the better of him from time to time. It was clear he was trying to avoid giving away the details that would be of interest to military types, but some hints still got through when he got too excited.

    He was hopeful that his new Etherscope project could be for more than allowing me to speak with Durandia. His notes spoke extensively on potential applications like healing, where a talented restorative mage could use the chamber like an operating theatre, or for magical craftsmen to more easily create works of significance.

    The expense was high ¨C but in his eyes, it was like all of the other modern machines that were being iterated on during his time. It would only get cheaper and easier to build in time with new versions, but he never got around to doing it. The Etherscope in the museum remained the one and only example ever built.

    If I could make some bracers out of that metal and wear it, casting spells would cause them to react and weaken the fabric between our reality and the Veil. In essence, it would make every spell I cast more efficient by a significant factor. Snow estimated it to be in the region of five to seven times more efficient than normal. This was how mages used Kursiela. They¡¯d create jewellery or wands and staffs from it ¨C places where they channelled magic while casting their spells.

    The problem was finding some.

    Walser was behind the curve. It didn¡¯t occur naturally in this part of the world, and importing it from overseas was too expensive now that the magical industries were being pummelled financially by machines that anyone could use. I didn¡¯t have time to go rifling through antique stores hoping to stumble across it either. The new academy term was about to begin.

    I was frustrated. The answer was right there in front of my nose ¨C but I couldn¡¯t reach out and take it. I scanned the rest of the page for more information before closing it again and handing it back to the Curator.

    ¡°Thank you. I have the answer I was looking for. I don¡¯t suppose you would know where to find any Kursiela?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡±

    He placed the book back into its rightful place. I stewed silently and tried to come up with an elegant solution for this fresh dilemma. Money was no object, but what I wanted to purchase was more elusive in nature. I couldn¡¯t boot up a computer and search two dozen different auction sites to find what I wanted.

    Gladly had one more piece of advice for me before I left.

    ¡°Now that I think again ¨C I believe that some of my peers who are interested in historic items have spoken highly of the ¡®Brady Antiquity Collection¡¯ on the corner of Fourth and Gutterage. There¡¯s no guarantee that you¡¯ll find Kursiela there, but it would be as good a place as any to try.¡±

    This was starting to sound like a stupid ass McGuffin chase again.

    I smiled pithily, ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

 Chapter 136

    The next morning came in due course, as did the box that contained my newly acquired antique. Talia was leaving her dorm room when I arrived on the scene. She immediately locked onto the heavy metal piece of furniture I was lugging up to my room in my arms like a newborn baby.

    ¡°What are you doing with that candelabra?¡±

    It was made from Kursiela. I¡¯d visited the antique store that Gladly pointed me to and point-blank asked the man in charge if he had anything at all that was made from the metal. It didn¡¯t matter what it was ¨C I was going to buy it at any expense and bring it back with me.

    The peach-coloured compound was heavier than I expected. The candelabra was designed to be a hefty thing. I could happily strike someone across the dome with it and have a good shot at knocking them out cold.

    ¡°It¡¯s a candelabra. I saw it in a store yesterday and thought it would look good in my dorm room.¡±

    Talia was confused, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you decorate your dorm room before.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s never a bad time to start.¡±

    I left it at that and snuck inside my room, placing it down on the bedside table and trying to work the kinks out of my arms. My old body wouldn¡¯t have had a problem carrying that up the stairs ¨C but Maria was a different beast. It was still so easy to forget my own limits thanks to years of muscle memory.

    Technically I could use the candleholder as the least practical wand of all time. It would be a much better solution to melt it down and forge it into a pair of greaves or cuffs. That, or turning it into a staff, was the most common practice performed by foreign magicians. A candleholder was as close as I was going to get without getting my hands dirty and commissioning a more practical form.

    Since most spells involved transferring magic to the hands and fingertips ¨C the metal would react when casting a spell and increase your power. The fingers were the most precise and nimble part of the body, so they were useful for mages who wanted to use a plethora of different methods with a high level of control.

    ¡°What a gaudy piece of crap,¡± I muttered. It was covered with elaborate inlaid details, swirling patterns and blooming plants. I couldn¡¯t wait to destroy it and turn it into something useful.

    That was easier said than done. Blacksmiths weren¡¯t rendered extinct by the advent of machines just yet ¨C but it was on the horizon. There was a widening gulf between small local businesses making horseshoes and tools for farmers and the big players who produced far more than they could ever hope to. Those factories didn¡¯t make to order like I needed.

    I took a tape measure from my drawer and made precise measurements of both of my forearms and wrists, marking them down onto a small piece of paper for later. With that job taken care of, I removed my outside coat and started to switch to my uniform for the first period.

    Black skirt, white shirt, and now that the weather was turning cold again we were expected to wear a matching jumper or blazer ¨C depending on our preference. I chose the jumper, pulling the frill of the shirt over the front and keeping the collar in line.

    Finding a blacksmith and smeltery would have to wait. I had obligations and appearances to keep. My Father would start to ask more questions if I started skipping school, and I was still recovering from the shock of getting away with that cult ordeal without him raking me over the coals.

    While I was crisscrossing the room to gather my things, a sudden flurry of movement in the area of the garden that my window could see drew my attention. At first, I presumed that it was some of the other students taking a shortcut to reach their first lessons, but on closer inspection, I discovered that to not be the case.

    Yeah. That was a marauding gang of armed goons alright.

    They were infiltrating the campus grounds through one of the exterior gates, having removed the guard from his post and disarming him. I counted at least ten of them mulling around on the rear patio and by the greenhouse. They were all wearing long coats with rifles slung over their shoulders.

    Far from the violent incidents that occurred prior, these men were downright polite by comparison. There were no shouted threats of random assaults. They weren¡¯t even smashing anything or trying to steal whatever they could get their hands on! The other students were starting to notice and were clustering by their own windows to spy on what was going on.

    Even if it was a socially conscious takeover of the campus by armed men, I was not going to risk being caught without a weapon. I hurried to the wardrobe, busted out the suitcase and got tooled up for another fight.

    By the time I¡¯d grabbed my pistols and some magazines, concealing them on my person, the majority of the student body was already packing the outside hallway like a can of sardines. I forced my way through and headed across the second floor to where the main entrance was located. My progress was stopped dead by another roadblock of warm bodies hiding out at the top of the stairs.

    The students were whispering.

    ¡°What is going on?¡±

    ¡°There are men with guns!¡±

    ¡°This is the party all over again...¡±

    I pushed my way through the crowd to get a better view over the bannister. The entire lobby area was swamped with hundreds of observers. A group of five gunmen were keeping watch by the front door. The Principal was the one taking point and confronting the guy in charge.

    ¡°Have you lost your good senses? What are you doing here with those weapons? This is a school!¡±

    ¡°I can assure you that harm will not come to any person on the premises.¡±

    Their leader was wearing a yellow armband. He also had extremely pale skin like the kid who attacked the funeral. He didn¡¯t display any of the same outward signs of elevated aggression or a lack of reason. They¡¯d dispatched a loyal one to handle this job. They didn¡¯t want some trigger-happy buffoon sparking a massacre at the Royal Academy.

    ¡°I would much prefer for you to vacate the area entirely. You should know that trespassing on the academy grounds has become a more rigidly enforced criminal offence after recent events.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that. We have control of the perimeter of the academy. As I said, there¡¯ll be no harm to you or any of the students. You should go about your usual business.¡±

    ¡°I can hardly start a new term with a group of armed strangers lingering!¡±

    What the hell was this supposed to be? My mind was quick to associate this with Welt and my present problems. The worst-case scenario was the one now unfolding before my eyes. Welt was pushing the big red button early. He was rumbled by the police and desperate to execute his plan while he had the chance.

    ¡°If these student¡¯s parents do the right thing and listen to what he has to say ¨C then there¡¯ll be nothing to worry about. That¡¯s all. Now clear out before I start to lose patience!¡±

    The other teachers were more willing to relent than the Principal. They turned on the gallery of observers and started to wave us away.

    ¡°First period is about to start! Get to your assigned classrooms now!¡±

    Sensing that the party was over for the time being ¨C a large number of the spectators did as they asked and started to slowly shuffle back towards where they were supposed to be. I stuck behind for a second to try and scry more details from the argument raging between them, but the teachers were moving up the stairs to ward away those who stubbornly remained.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    What followed was the most surreal school lesson of my two lives. Everyone in the lecture room knew what was going on outside the door, and aside from an opening buzz of discussion between my classmates, nobody saw fit to address the issue until the end of the period approached. The teacher stepped out for two minutes and returned with a concerned expression.

    ¡°Everyone, the Principal is still attempting to reason with the man who has invaded the campus. I¡¯d like for everyone to return to their dorms and remain inside until further instructions are given.¡±

    And that was that. We filed out of the lecture hall and moved back up to the dorms. Along the way, I spied several of the guards lurking around the doors and main avenues through the building. There was no shouting or fighting, just an uneasy cloud hanging over the heads of everyone involved.

    Adrian caught up with me on the way back.

    ¡°What the hell is all this?¡± he whispered harshly.

    ¡°I think Welt is in a panic about being pursued by the police and WISA. He¡¯s going ahead with his plan whether his allies are ready for it or not.¡±

    ¡°What does that have to do with us?¡±

    ¡°We are his insurance policy. He will need all of the nobility in the capital and parliament to fall in line and avoid making a fuss, and what better way to do that than to take all of their children hostage?¡±

    ¡°Goddess help me. He¡¯s a craven psychopath.¡±

    ¡°Correct. There¡¯s no helping it now. They have the entire building under lockdown.¡±

    When we reached the dorms, Adrian was forced to part ways and move ahead to get to his room. I stepped into my own, only to be ambushed from behind by Samantha, who shoved me in and closed the door behind us.

    ¡°Do you know what all of this is about?¡± she asked with an almost accusatory tone.

    ¡°I can guess. It wouldn¡¯t be a term at this academy without something terrible happening.¡±

    Samantha groaned and sat on the edge of my bed, ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°Gerard Verner Welt is making his move. He wants to restore the monarchy, and part of his plan is to hold us all hostage to make the nobility play nice.¡±

    ¡°I thought the nobles wanted the Van Walser family to reassume control?¡±

    ¡°The old blood does. The newly minted nobles, the ones making large amounts of money from new technology and business ideas, are normally dedicated to the republican ideal. They come from a different background. Common-clay nobles are what they call them.¡±

    ¡°Even when they¡¯re fabulously wealthy?¡±

    ¡°Being a noble was entirely about wealth and recognition, but they will sooner redefine what it means rather than equate themselves with them. A new variable will be introduced. They had to be a noble long before a date of their choosing.¡±

    She got back up from the bed and paced to the window, peering out into the garden to spy on the men who were standing by the fence. This was a professionally done operation from them. They neutralized the guards with numbers and speed and assumed control before anyone could call for help from the police. Now they were keeping a close eye on every possible escape route.

    ¡°What a mess. Is this country always on the brink of a major political crisis?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Samantha hid out in my room for the next two hours. It was almost time for dinner and there was no sign of lessons resuming. I kept observing the guards at the outside fence and tried to figure out what shifts they were running. I didn¡¯t see them switch places before the teachers knocked on our doors and asked us to go to the dining hall for lunch.

    When we stepped through the doors and saw the stage being prepped, we knew that the man in charge was going to explain what was going on to the staff and students. None of the gun-toting mercenaries he brought with him were in the room with us. The Principal managed to get some concessions from him during their argument.

    Everyone grabbed their food and sat down at the tables. The Principal stepped up onto the stage and cleared his throat. For once the entire hall fell silent, rather than playing games by continuing to talk during his announcement.

    ¡°Good afternoon everyone. This is an announcement about... our new guests. I understand that many of you will be profoundly worried about this invasion of the campus and the presence of armed individuals.¡±

    There was an uneasy ripple through the crowd. Bad memories of what happened at Beatrice¡¯s party were still strong in their minds.

    ¡°I¡¯ve spoken with the leader of this group and wrangled some compromises from him. They will not enter the school without reason. They will refrain from intimidating the staff or students. In exchange, they will be temporarily housed in the unused block away from the main buildings. I need not say that you should stay away from that area.¡±

    He gritted his teeth and said the next part very delicately.

    ¡°They¡¯ve promised not to cause any trouble. I want everyone to continue with their regular schedule and act as if nothing were amiss. The staff will continue to monitor the situation and ensure that the academy is able to run safely and effectively.¡±

    And that was all he had to say. No words of reassurance for the terrified crop of coddled teenagers he was in charge of, most of whom had never faced a single second of risk in their lives. He bowed his head and stepped down from the platform before disappearing through the back door.

    When he was out of sight the hall exploded into a riotous discussion about what was going on. I could hear new insane rumours being concocted in the social cauldron as I sat there and chewed on a piece of buttered bread. Talia, Samantha, Adrian and Claude all looked mortified by what was going on. Max still wasn¡¯t back at the academy. If only he knew how lucky he was.

    ¡°I have no idea what¡¯s going on right now!¡± Talia hissed.

    ¡°They¡¯re holding us all hostage,¡± Adrian explained, ¡°This academy is filled with noble kids like us, and the sons of important police officers and the like...¡±

    A potent mixture of upper-middle-class and high-class children, who held particular importance to a group that could control the direction of the nation as a whole. I¡¯d been caught flat-footed by this. I was anticipating that there¡¯d be enough time to take pre-emptive action against Welt. He was pushing the timeline up suddenly. He wanted to get out of the jam he found himself in as quickly as possible.

    Springing part of the plan early could be a cause for friction later on, but Welt had no choice now. Veronica was hot on his tail - and if anyone was going to catch him now it would be her. He couldn¡¯t stand back and let his planning and preparation go to waste. Some of it would have to be organized on the fly as and when it was demanded.

    What other moving parts were in action remained a mystery to me. This wasn¡¯t going to be the only string Welt was pulling. He was trying to use us as leverage to pull wavering nobles onto his side, or simply to keep them from fighting back while he assumed control.

    The modified killers would be his enforcers. They could exert an outsized level of military force, upturning the number¡¯s disadvantage and wreaking havoc on the militias, military and police. More traditional fighters would be deployed to handle more sensitive areas and operations.

    What was missing from the picture was an inciting incident. There was not an upswell of public support for the restoration movement. Welt would have to provide at least a basic pretext for moving to restore the monarchy, yet there was no evidence of what they planned to do during my investigation.

    Claude stared at me, ¡°Is this your fault?¡±

    ¡°Why would it be my fault? All of these things happen independently of me.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re here to stop you from getting out and stopping them.¡±

    ¡°They haven¡¯t noticed me. They want to keep the entire academy hostage, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°...Are you going to do something?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m certainly not going to launch recklessly into a fight. This situation is dangerous for all kinds of reasons. The least of which is the presence of bystanders. Someone will get hurt if I start a battle on the campus. I¡¯m not doing that.¡±

    Samantha nudged Claude in the side, ¡°Maria doesn¡¯t do stuff that puts other people in danger.¡±

    Clean, precise, specific ¨C those were the three words that I always kept in mind when working as an assassin. I was a scalpel, expertly dissecting a problem without causing harm to onlookers or interested parties. This was not a situation where I could do that. At least thirty gunmen were watching every entrance and exit to the grounds.

    Either I¡¯d have to get creative in picking them off, or I would have to throw the entire campus into chaos with a wide-reaching gunfight. The odds were not in my favour. It went against my instincts to risk it all unless I was forced to. Would they ditch the place and run for the hills if I killed the guy in charge? Unlikely.

    There was also the risk that they¡¯d issue collective punishment in response to attacks against their group. Welt¡¯s other supporters were ruthless and violent at heart. They were treating the academy nicely because some of his existing backers were likely sending their children here to be educated.

    ¡°Sometimes the ideal course of action is to do nothing at all,¡± I said.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± Claude whispered, ¡°They¡¯re locking us up and pointing guns at us!¡±

    ¡°But I can¡¯t predict what they¡¯ll do if I start making trouble for them, and there¡¯s no point in me escaping from their cordon anyway ¨C I don¡¯t have the faintest clue as to where Welt is, or how to stop him and make them withdraw.¡±

    Samantha, Adrian, Talia and Claude were all surprised to see me adopting such a cautious approach in the face of imminent danger. Talia knew that I helped her brother and little else, but the other three were well aware of how I liked to go on the offence when the chips were down and bullets were flying.

    Everyone went back to eating, considering my position more carefully. There were no easy answers to this problem. I could go all out and get nothing helpful in return. I emptied my plate and contemplated the problem until something else stimulating pulled my attention away.

    Dalia was leaving through the same door that the Principal used earlier.

    I watched as she snuck past the teachers and slipped through the crack. The gears in my head started to turn again. There were students within the school whose families were heavily involved in the restoration movement.

    Samantha noticed where my eyes were pointing.

    ¡°What are you looking at?¡±

    ¡°...Nothing. Nothing at all.¡±

 Chapter 137

    After the meal, I split away from the group again and went off in search of Dalia. It did not take me very long to deduce that she was chasing after the Principal to pitch him on her big new idea, which was to pull on her family connections to maybe make them go away. Typical. She was locking everyone in a cage with a hungry lion and was getting upset when it decided to maul her too.

    She didn¡¯t get what Welt was trying to do. Either she was unaware that Welt intended to use us as leverage against the nobles, or she was na?ve enough to believe that Welt trusted her family and didn¡¯t need leverage over them too. Welt was the type to keep his friends close and enemies closer.

    This was his elegant solution. He could blackmail those who stood against him and secure the support of those who already did so they would refrain from making any last-minute grabs at power.

    I caught sight of her leaving his office with a despondent pout. I decided to hold back and follow her back down onto the first floor, through the interior garden courtyard and into a rarely trafficked area of the main building. It was then and only then that I called out to her.

    ¡°Dalia.¡±

    She stopped and smiled at me. She was excited that I was the one reaching out to her.

    ¡°Maria! What a pleasant surprise it is to have you speaking with me.¡±

    ¡°I saw you leave the dining hall and I was wondering if aught was amiss.¡±

    She shook her head, ¡°Ah. I¡¯m feeling somewhat on edge because of the situation we¡¯re in. I decided to leave early and get some peace and quiet.¡±

    I chuckled, ¡°I see. I thought you were looking to speak with the Principal. It seems that I was mistaken.¡±

    I slowly moved all of the pieces into my desired places on the board. I poked and prodded at her anxieties about being found out, knowing that she was a bad liar and that she was interested in currying favour with me.

    She hurried to correct my misconception; ¡°I did speak with him briefly. We... bumped into each other while I was leaving. I asked him if there was anything we could do to make these men leave the campus, but he was adamant that no such resolution was forthcoming.¡±

    Reading between the lines allowed me to scry what was going on. Dalia was afraid of going alone to speak with their leader ¨C so she wanted to outsource that job to one of the teachers instead of doing it herself. The Principal would obviously refuse any request for a student to negotiate with them either via proxy or in person.

    Without that proxy or escort, Dalia was unable to disprove her theory about using her name recognition to score a ticket out of there. She was going to pursue that goal until the stakes got too high. Her craven nature dictated that staying here was more dangerous than sending a message to them through someone else.

    I frowned empathetically, ¡°I struggle to see how any verbal discourse could dissuade them. The very fact that they are here now means they intend to see this action through to the end and face the legal consequences.¡±

    ¡°People can be reasoned with,¡± Dalia insisted, ¡°You see it in the newspapers all the time. They offer them benefits in exchange for cooperation, like when they testify at one of those trials.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t going to work. Welt had already guaranteed them a pardon from the new monarch should their plan succeed. The easiest way to make someone perform an illegal act is to make them do it in confidence. Even I avoided assassinating my targets when the risk of being caught was too high. It was basic criminal psychology.

    ¡°At least they aren¡¯t intruding on the main building now. I wouldn¡¯t be able to sleep soundly with them leering over us in the hallways!¡± I said in mock indignation. She smiled and played alone with a knowing nod of concurrence. Always the follower when she was put out of her comfort zone.

    I twisted the knife a touch.

    ¡°I have to praise you for such a selfless effort, regardless of its chances of success. It would be a boon to all of the people here at the academy if you could negotiate with them.¡±

    She never intended to let the rest of us go. The way her eyes flickered to one side told me she was trying not to wince and give it away. It was that statement that made her turn on me.

    ¡°Are you trying to insinuate something?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? We have had our disagreements in the recent past ¨C but that does not strip your actions of their good intent.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to suggest that I¡¯m just doing this for myself! You better not spread unbecoming rumours about me!¡±

    I hummed, ¡°I seem to recall you spreading a lot of unbecoming rumours about Samantha before the term ended. How she was boorish, violent and ill-mannered and unworthy of being held in esteem by her peers.¡±

    Dalia¡¯s eyes sharpened, ¡°Was I incorrect? Her presence brings shame to this academy.¡±

    ¡°You were mistaken. You should have been more concerned about me.¡±

    I stepped closer. Dalia was boxed in against the wall with nowhere to run. She tried to slip past me and get away but I grabbed her by the collar and pushed her against the stones. Her weak attempts to break free again were short-lived. She couldn¡¯t hope to compete with my strength.

    ¡°I can be very ill-tempered indeed. I saw you sneaking away from the hall earlier. Were you going to beg the Principal to go to that empty building and grovel in front of those violent thugs that have taken over? Maybe pull rank, or talk about who your Father is?¡±

    The penny dropped. Dalia took in a sharp breath.

    ¡°My Father has nothing to do with this.¡±

    ¡°I overheard them speaking earlier. They¡¯re monarchists. Your Father is well-known for his support of the restoration movement. It¡¯s an open secret to anyone with eyes and ears, and you feel that his position gives you the privilege to order them to let you go, leaving the rest of us to rot.¡±

    ¡°I would never!¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t fool me with those plain denials. Why else would you so zealously pursue the Principal if not to use him to achieve your ends? You want to be allowed out of here ¨C escaping from the very same danger that men like your Father have crafted. I have a harsh truth for you.¡±

    I pushed her back and stared into her eyes.

    ¡°They don¡¯t care about you. Your Father is every bit as disposable as the rest of them. They didn¡¯t warn you or him about this because the man in the chair wanted you to be here. If you go and ask their leader if you can leave, they¡¯ll laugh in your face and tell you to stay put. We¡¯re all trapped - including you.¡±

    The tenacious face she wore faded. The sudden violence of my confrontation and the harsh facts I was throwing at her combined into an unpleasant medicine. I released her jumper and stepped back.

    ¡°None of that is true,¡± she persisted, ¡°It can¡¯t be.¡±

    ¡°What rung of the ladder do you think you stand upon? Your family is influential enough to be worth blackmailing, but not important enough to be in the inner circle. I¡¯d love to see you try and air your complaints to the manic leading this group.¡±

    ¡°Shut up! What is your problem? You¡¯re threatening me!¡±

    ¡°None of what I said was a threat, but this is. If you don¡¯t do what I say I¡¯ll make sure that every single person with a pair of working ears knows that your Father was involved in this.¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have a part-¡±

    ¡°Spare me the meaningless denials and listen. You are going to be my canary in the coal mine. I want you to go and speak with the person in charge and let me spy on him.¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Why?¡± she asked.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter. Now, are you going to do as I ask, or not?¡±

    I¡¯d made my position and intent clear to Dalia. She could do what I asked and put herself in the firing line, or she could refuse and suffer the full weight of my social clout coming down on top of her head like a tonne of bricks. She was part of the reason why my opinion carried so much influence in the first place. She understood how powerful it really was.

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious. You¡¯re asking me to face down those madmen?¡±

    ¡°You asked the Principal to do it for you ¨C and now suddenly you see the issue from his perspective when the tables are turned?¡±

    ¡°Is that what this is about? You¡¯ve proven your point. So stop kidding around and let me go.¡±

    ¡°Oh no. I¡¯m quite serious. I want to hear those words coming from his mouth, and seeing as though you are the only one who has the ¡®connections¡¯ necessary to arrange a meeting with him...¡±

    Dalia turned pale.

    ¡°H-Hey, wait a moment! I never agreed to do anything! It¡¯s just as you said ¨C he¡¯s going to turn me away before ever accepting a meeting with me. I¡¯m nobody! Is this because of what I said about Samantha? I¡¯ll apologize to her. I¡¯ll get down on my hands and knees and grovel if that¡¯s what you want!¡±

    I expected this type of response to my proposal when I first chased her down, but the desperation and dread she was showcasing exceeded my worst estimations. She was having a full-blown mental breakdown right in front of me. She didn¡¯t mean a word of it. She wanted to squirm her way out of this confrontation without giving up her own safety or reputation.

    Now that the barrier was stripped away between her and her goals, she thought it was an idea that only a lunatic would come up with. It was funny how a person¡¯s perspective could change on the same proposal when they were the ones being asked to see it through.

    I put my hand on her shoulder; ¡°Samantha does not need an apology from you. Besides, I¡¯m not going to place you in a dangerous situation. This ¡®meeting¡¯ will be on neutral ground outside in the garden, and we¡¯ll request that he bring no weapons with him.¡±

    ¡°...We?¡±

    ¡°Yes, we. I need to be there to hear what he says.¡±

    That fine detail made it clear to Dalia that I was being serious. She and I were going to do this and there was nothing she could say to dissuade me. I liked solving problems, and this was a tantalizingly challenging one to untangle.

    Once we were out of there ¨C I needed to track down Welt and put a bullet between his eyes.

    <hr>

    Darin was pleased with how his part in the plan was proceeding.

    Dealing with kids was not his forte ¨C so agreeing to a ¡®compromise¡¯ with the teachers was his ideal outcome. His men would keep a close watch on the campus exits and ensure that they complied, while everyone on the inside could go about their usual business.

    There was no real threat of harm coming to them. Welt had made that clear to him when he originally issued the assignment. Organizing them into groups of children from supporters, opponents and neutral bystanders was too much work. The risk of harming the wrong person was too high. The mere threat was enough for what Welt intended.

    He was trying to show the nobles in the capital that he had control over their fate. They could comply with his wishes and help stabilize the incoming new order ¨C or they could risk losing what mattered to them most. Most could give or take dealing with their own spawn, but throwing their succession into chaos was bothersome enough that they would fall in line.

    It was only natural that something would go wrong one day into their occupation of the campus. One of his compatriots almost kicked down his door and declared that another, named John, had collapsed from a stinging pain in his chest while he was on watch at the rear gate.

    ¡°I need an extra pair of hands out here! John blacked out and I can¡¯t carry him on my own.¡±

    They hauled him all the way back to the old building they were living in and ran away to collar a medical professional, leaving his gun behind to avoid scaring the Principal. He was lying motionless on a wooden table when the Principal and two of the school medical staff arrived a few minutes later.

    ¡°What¡¯s all this commotion about?¡± he asked.

    Darin sighed, ¡°John here is having trouble. I want these nurses to check him.¡±

    The two medical staff, Doctor Becker and Nurse Meyer, were uneasy about being surrounded by so many of their number, but the Principal had asked them to do him this favour. He was trying to keep tensions on the campus as low as possible, and he promised to come with them to ensure nothing happened during their inspection.

    Becker cleared what was left from the table and started to check on John. She peeled open his eyes and checked for a reaction, before then ensuring that he still had a pulse. It was immediately obvious what the problem was.

    ¡°No pulse, no reaction to light... I believe that he¡¯s already passed away.¡± She pointed to the man who brought John to the building, ¡°What did he tell you?¡±

    His face fell, ¡°He... he just started complaining about a pain in his chest all of a sudden, and it sounded proper bad. He was groaning, said it was like being stabbed. Eventually he passed out after sitting down, and I barely kept him from smashing his head into the stones.¡±

    An awkward silence hung over the room until Becker delivered the bad news.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that he¡¯s suffered from the tell-tale signs of a Cardiac Arrest.¡±

    ¡°A what?¡±

    ¡°A heart attack. Clutching his chest, losing consciousnesses, complaining about a sharp, stabbing pain ¨C and losing his pulse soon after. Thousands of men and women around Walser die from these exact circumstances every year.¡±

    ¡°Did someone do it to him?¡± Darin asked.

    ¡°No.¡±

    To prove her point, Becker and Meyer removed his shirt and investigated the area around his heart and lungs. There were no outward signs of injury, no blood, and no injection sites.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing suspicious that I can see here from the outside. My gut instinct is that he died of natural causes.¡±

    Darin turned to him, ¡°Was there anyone else there when it happened?¡±

    ¡°Not a soul. No sir.¡±

    Rotten luck indeed. Darin couldn¡¯t believe it. He¡¯d died on the spot from a heart attack? He didn¡¯t know much about medicine ¨C but if the Doctor was so convinced, then he had little reason to suspect otherwise. Where would they even find a poison potent enough to do that at a school anyway?

    One of the other men took exception; ¡°What do you mean you can¡¯t fix him? There has to be something you can do!¡±

    Becker shook her head, ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. This is a school, not a hospital. The only way for us to intervene would be to cut him open, but that is extremely dangerous. A lot of work in that field is entirely theoretical.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re gotta¡¯ be shitting me!¡± he complained.

    ¡°The heart is a delicate organ, and when it ceases to operate the damage quickly spreads to every other part of the body. As we speak, his brain will be starved of fresh blood causing severe problems. The rare few who have their hearts restarted may suffer from long-term consequences.¡±

    Even if Becker and Meyer could deliver a shock to the man¡¯s heart, the damage may have already been done. Who was to say that it even could be restarted safely? The window to revive and potentially save his life had already passed. The only thing that could have averted disaster was a skilled restoration mage, and those were very rare indeed.

    The outraged mercenary got up into Becker¡¯s face but the stern woman refused to flinch. Darin was quick to pull him back.

    ¡°Koch! Don¡¯t pick fights with the Doctors.¡±

    Meyer closed his eyes and redonned his clothes to prepare him for his final rest.

    ¡°I would advise that you take his body into the cellar in this building. It should be cold enough to keep him from decomposing while you¡¯re here.¡±

    Darin frowned, ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about ¡®Cardiac Arrest¡¯ or whatever you¡¯re saying ¨C but you mean to say that this was just an accident?¡±

    Becker exhaled, ¡°As I said, thousands of people pass away from these incidents every year. I can¡¯t see any signs of external injury, nor can I imagine any way for a person to induce a heart attack with that kind of precision. The sad fact is that his heart may have malfunctioned, and he has lost his life as a result.¡±

    Darin turned away, ¡°We¡¯ve been here for one bloody day and this happens!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an ill omen,¡± Koch declared.

    ¡°You¡¯re always too superstitious!¡± one of the men responded.

    ¡°How the hell do you explain a perfectly healthy lad dropping dead on the spot? Back in my village, we¡¯d be praying at the Goddess¡¯ altar for three days and three nights after a bad omen like this!¡±

    Becker knew that some recent medical journals were exploring the idea of these conditions going undiagnosed for decades before their negative impacts could be seen, at which point it was often too late to intervene. A healthy man on the outside could be hiding a ticking time bomb.

    She held her tongue and stepped back in deference. There was no reason to entangle herself with the discussion any more than she had to. They were clearly upset and looking for someone to point fingers at. Darin scratched his head and ushered the Principal and his staff out of the room so they could escape the heated debate.

    ¡°I hope this was an accident - and that your Doctor hasn¡¯t been telling lies.¡±

    Becker took exception to that suggestion, ¡°How do you reckon that someone caused your friend to have a cardiac arrest? The other person who witnessed it said he didn¡¯t see a solitary soul out there, and you haven¡¯t eaten any food from the school¡¯s pantry.¡±

    Darin knew that he was on shaky ground making any accusations of foul play. He hoped that the implication would make them break rank and tell the truth, but they stuck to their guns and insisted that it was an unlucky happenstance.

    ¡°How long is this going to last?¡± the Principal asked, ¡°His body will begin to decompose.¡±

    ¡°Not for long,¡± Darin said. He was not going to give it away and let them make plans.

    ¡°Try to keep the campus calm. Do that much and we¡¯ll play along with your games.¡±

    ¡°I know. We shook hands on it. My boys are going to stay outside of the main building and watch the fences. I don¡¯t want any funny stuff.¡±

    Darin already had a map of the building in his possession. The guard stations were under his control and the men under his command were positioned as such to avoid being seen from the outside looking in. Nobody could come or go without them knowing, and the building was so old that no lines of communication had been installed.

    Becker and Meyer refrained from arguing again on the same point. He was a paranoid, potentially violent and evidently uneducated man. It was all going to go into one ear and slip from the other. They followed the Principal out of the empty building and back up the stone path towards the main hall.

    ¡°I have to apologize to you both for dragging you out here.¡±

    Becker shook her head, ¡°No. I have a responsibility to look after these children too, and while they may be holding us hostage, I also have an oath to fulfil. I can¡¯t overlook someone suffering a medical emergency. Let¡¯s be glad that it wasn¡¯t an incident that earned their ire.¡±

    ¡°Still, it¡¯s incredible that he died of a cardiac arrest a few hours after coming here,¡± Meyer whispered.

    ¡°We will keep this between us,¡± the Principal asserted, ¡°Hopefully we can remove the body later without alarming the students.¡±

    Oh, how he longed for the days when the most urgent task at hand was filling out paperwork and approving staff budgets...

 Chapter 138

    Samantha, Adrian, and Claude were gathered in a private spot at the back end of the dorm area. Claude had pulled them aside and dragged them into the study so that he could relay some urgent news to them. Like boys who cried wolf once too often ¨C all three were expecting nothing but spurious rumours from the academy¡¯s biggest busybody.

    ¡°I heard something big about the guys who¡¯ve taken over.¡±

    ¡°The ones who¡¯re working for Welt?¡± Adrian murmured.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who that is, but sure.¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you yammering about, Claude?¡± Adrian said bluntly.

    ¡°I talked with two people a while ago who said they saw some of those gunmen hauling one of their mates into the abandoned block. They said he wasn¡¯t injured ¨C but he couldn¡¯t move under his own strength.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get your point.¡±

    ¡°My point is that Maria might already be making her move! She must have leapt out of the bushes and kicked him in the head or something!¡±

    Samantha sighed and covered her eyes. While that was within Maria¡¯s power, she doubted that she would expend so much energy to knock out a single person. She didn¡¯t waste time making a show of it.

    ¡°Why would she only knock out one person and then not try to escape?¡± Samantha posited, ¡°What if he fell over and hit his head?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s highly unlikely,¡± Claude parried, ¡°Maria must be trying to pick them all off, one by one, until their cordon around the campus is broken and we can all leave.¡±

    ¡°You know it would be faster if we went and asked her about it.¡±

    Adrian nodded, ¡°She¡¯s pretty candid with the truth when you¡¯re on her side.¡±

    Claude was intent on keeping that from happening.

    ¡°That¡¯s just how she likes it! She wants you all to trust her implicitly, even though she¡¯s been doing all these crazy things. She¡¯s violent. You can¡¯t trust a violent person.¡±

    Claude¡¯s father had instilled a lot of upright values in his son. A lot of it was dubious in nature and created a judgemental type of personality that based conclusions on outward appearances or assumptions. One of them was ¡®violent people¡¯ being inherently deceptive. It made perfect sense to Claude that one could not simply trust a hardened killer.

    Adrian grumbled, ¡°Listen, it¡¯s obvious that we all feel a little discomfort when confronted with how Maria is open to violence, but between her and those men out there ¨C you can guess who I¡¯m going to side with.¡±

    Claude looked to Samantha, ¡°You¡¯re the closest with her. How does she feel about that?¡±

    Samantha felt all of the eyes in the room turn to her, and suddenly it was a lot hotter under the collar than moments before...

    ¡°Maria said that she wouldn¡¯t begrudge me no matter what I thought of her. She¡¯s always been conscious of how amoral her actions can be. That¡¯s why I find it so strange that she happily submits herself to them. It was strange how she pushed that responsibility onto me like I¡¯m some kind of virtuous paragon.¡±

    ¡°Are you not?¡±

    ¡°No! I¡¯ve been naughty before ¨C like the time I pretended to be ill so I could sleep in for an extra half-hour. Or what about when I took the last piece of chicken from the spread when my brother only got two?¡±

    Adrian groaned, ¡°Not a paragon, she says.¡±

    Samantha frowned and crossed her arms. Those were pretty bad by her measure!

    Claude¡¯s dissociation, a result of writing the revelation about Maria into Cambry¡¯s destroyed book, was difficult for him to get over. At first, he thought that everyone was trying to make fun of him. After some fact-finding and elaboration from Samantha, he was forced to accept their version of events.

    ¡°Can we even trust her?¡± Claude wondered, ¡°She¡¯s capable of doing all of these violent things but we don¡¯t know much about her. Where did she learn to do that? Why does she find it so easy? Did she even tell you, Sam?¡±

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I trust her? She¡¯s saved my life before,¡± she replied tersely.

    Adrian shrugged, ¡°I appreciate that she chose to help me with my uncle, but that isn¡¯t a good measure of trust. If even you don¡¯t know where she learned to do that stuff ¨C then what else is she hiding from us?¡±

    ¡°Hold on a second! I¡¯m keeping some secrets from Maria too. It¡¯s not normal for me to know every single fact about her life in the first place.¡±

    But Samantha¡¯s anger at their questioning faded when she recalled that she¡¯d already warned Maria about the Goddess¡¯ prophecy. She wasn¡¯t actually hiding an important secret from her anymore, yet the truth of Maria¡¯s past continued to elude her. It cut directly against what Maria told her about getting a benefit from her position.

    Had Maria done that on purpose to defang her, or was it an oversight at a time when she was being emotionally open? Samantha¡¯s face twisted into a frown. It was probably a bad idea to reveal that secret to her even if it was eating her up inside. Her trust in Maria was not being reciprocated in the same way.

    On the other hand, Samantha was emotionally invested in her relationship with Maria ¨C and her stubborn, mule-like insistence on seeing the good in everyone she met collided headfirst with the doubts expressed by Adrian and Claude. Why were they suddenly turning on her?

    ¡°Do you two have another reason for asking this out of the blue?¡±

    Adrian grumbled, ¡°Claude¡¯s only interested in keeping his pet mystery going for as long as possible. I want some real answers. It¡¯d make me feel a lot better understanding why all of this strange crap keeps happening to us.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s realistic to blame it all on her.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not blaming it all on her! Sometimes it seems that Maria is keeping inconvenient facts from us because she believes we¡¯re not capable of making smart choices. I¡¯d rather decide that type of thing for myself!¡±

    Maria¡¯s manipulation of information, choosing what to say and what to omit, had become a regular fixture of these incidents. Samantha shared a small part of their frustration, but she also understood where Maria was coming from. She was the one picking up a gun and dirtying her hands. She couldn¡¯t rely on her or the others to do the same.

    Samantha could get herself killed trying ¨C and that was what Maria wanted to avoid.

    But her interest in keeping her and the other students alive stretched to before she ever became friends with Samantha. If not for the sake of a girl who she was friends with, then for whom was she diving headfirst into peril? Of all the mysteries that surrounded Maria, this was the one that hovered in her mind the most.

    ¡°I will admit that she has not been... entirely forthcoming with all of what she knows. Regardless, I¡¯m not inclined to believe that she¡¯s our enemy. You and her had a terrible relationship before, and she still went out of her way to help.¡±

    Adrian scratched the back of his head and looked very sheepish all of a sudden.

    ¡°It¡¯s stupid, and it sounds insane, but I just can¡¯t accept that Maria is trying to trick us or the like. She told me that she did have an explanation, but that I wouldn¡¯t believe it if she told me ¨C but she didn¡¯t offer an alternative lie to cover it up.¡±

    ¡°And you believe that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve gotten pretty good at telling when she¡¯s telling the truth,¡± Samantha revealed, ¡°She has her tells.¡±

    Claude cut back in, ¡°Isn¡¯t she one of those ¡®Sturml?ufer¡¯ the papers keep chatting about?¡±

    ¡°One, they never existed. Two, if they did, she¡¯d be too young to be an ex-member. Her Mother was, so maybe she was the one who taught her?¡± Adrian muttered.

    ¡°No, no. That cult situation was the first time they ever spoke to one another. There isn¡¯t even a portrait of her at their manor,¡± Samantha contested.

    Claude frowned, ¡°So what do you propose then? Your answer has to account for the extent of her training, the fact that she¡¯s the same age as us and that she managed to do all of this without ever being discovered by her family, servants or peers.¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    The corner went quiet as they all considered the potential answer. Samantha could feel the gears turning in her head. The pieces were coming together ¨C but not in the way that Claude expected. This was an explanation that only made sense to her.

    The answer didn¡¯t have to make sense.

    None of those factors had any bearing on Maria. Time and effort were of no consequence - because she was one of the two people in Walser who had been personally touched by the Goddess and given some kind of gift in the process. Samantha had assumed that it was her talent with nihility magic which mirrored her regenerative abilities.

    What if it wasn¡¯t? What if Maria was given more than one boon to make the events unfold as she wished? Her affinity for ¡®dark¡¯ magic was not the singular gift that she was given. The true nature of her blessing was one of knowledge. The Goddess had transformed her into a trained killer...

    She didn¡¯t need to train, work with her estranged Mother, or hide from the prying eyes of her peers and guardians. The Goddess granted her everything she needed to know. That was the only way that this could have occurred without someone finding out about it. Thinking back, Maria never said what her role in the Goddess¡¯ plan was.

    Adrian and Claude were staring at her.

    ¡°Did you figure it out?¡± Adrian asked.

    Now the problem was explaining that without sounding like a complete lunatic.

    Samantha exhaled and steeled herself; ¡°Okay... this is going to be a long story.¡±

    <hr>

    I forced Dalia to write a polite letter to the gentleman in the big house. We had to tread a fine line between sounding disarming and desperate, while still attempting to convince Darin that it was worth his time to step out and speak with her. I was good at social engineering ¨C but it was always tough to predict how someone would react to this type of communique.

    I¡¯d never sent a written letter in my whole life before being reborn as Maria.

    Dalia continued to beg for mercy while I hatched my plan. She tried every trick in the book. I deflected each attempt and reminded her that her social life would be in tatters at the snap of my finger if she kept being silly about it. All she had to do was send the letter and lure him in. I¡¯d handle the talking.

    It was a coin flip as to whether the man in charge would respond to the request for a meeting. If he was the cautious sort then he would want to keep a close eye on any and all developments on campus. If not, he¡¯d consider it beneath him to waste time speaking with one of the students, which was why I carefully danced around that point while drafting the letter.

    With that done I snuck it through to the building where they were staying and left it in an obvious place sticking out of the old post box there. It hadn¡¯t been used for communication on campus for many years. The purpose was for faculty members to leave them in there addressed to the people inside, and the building manager would empty it and hand them out at the end of the day.

    That practice fell out of favour at some point, with the teachers preferring to make the walk across the grounds to speak in person instead. That left it to gather dust and the occasional letter to a member of the staff who wasn¡¯t on the property at the time.

    Thus, I was forced to sit and wait at the designated meeting spot like I was being stood up on a date. Dalia was sitting on the bench by one of the fountains. This area was normally deserted, and the presence of armed men at the academy meant that very few dared to venture outside at all.

    ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s going to come here?¡±

    ¡°No. To get what we want, we have to take a risk.¡±

    Wasting our time wasn¡¯t a huge risk anyway. I¡¯d made worse bets than this before.

    ¡°He¡¯s going to be really mad at us!¡± Dalia fretted.

    ¡°Then he can simply take it out on me.¡±

    I continued to hide in my waiting spot. Five minutes after the deadline I saw her head turn towards the pathway that led into the paved plaza by the fountain. Footsteps followed, and finally, I could behold the pale face of the man who Welt had dispatched to hold us all hostage.

    I stepped out of my hiding spot and approached before Dalia said something stupid.

    ¡°What¡¯s all this about, then?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s deception. I¡¯m the one who wants to speak with you. Dalia here was simply forced to be my bait. I highly doubt you would have agreed to come here if not for her name and seal being used on that letter.¡±

    He looked to the mortified girl with a bemused smirk, ¡°That true?¡±

    Dalia withered under his stare but pressed her case regardless; ¡°I wanted to let you know that my father is-¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re Dalia Braun. Your Dad owns a manufacturing business, makes a lot of cash.¡±

    She stammered, ¡°T-That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°I already know who you are and I can¡¯t do anything for you, lass. No exceptions for any of the folk in this academy. I suggest that you get out of here and forget all about it.¡±

    Dalia was more than happy to follow his instructions. She spun around on her heel, stumbled, and scrambled away from our patch in the garden on her hands and knees, before finally getting back up onto her feet and breaking out into a sprint. The only thing she was good for was running away.

    Once I was happy that she wasn¡¯t listening to us ¨C I stood from my hiding spot and approached him on even ground.

    ¡°Lady Maria Walston-Carter, in the flesh! I knew there were a lot of important people at this school, but I didn¡¯t expect to run into you.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t realize that my reputation preceded me.¡±

    He chuckled, ¡°I¡¯m not a normal bloke. Welt had me memorize the names, faces and descriptions of every person on this campus. You¡¯re unmistakable. It¡¯s the ¡®furrowed brow¡¯ that does it, and the glare that could cut clean through a sheet of steel.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t trying to glare at him, but such a sour expression came naturally to Maria¡¯s face. I wanted to lure him into a sense of security during this conversation. I made a show of reaching up and touching my own brow to rectify the problem.

    ¡°Apologies. Serious matters lead me to make an expression such as this...¡±

    ¡°You know, there¡¯s a popular urban legend for folks in our line of business.¡±

    ¡°I know. The raven-haired, ruby-eyed menace who haunted the streets and eliminated anyone who got in the royal family¡¯s way. I¡¯ve heard it all before.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that you¡¯re that person?¡±

    I laughed in my typically haughty manner and shook my head; ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. Those rumours predate my birth by several years. Unless you mean to suggest that I travelled back in time and started my campaign of terror beforehand.¡±

    If I was being conspiratorial I would say that it could be a possibility with Adrian¡¯s watch, but the fact was that Veronica was the source of those rumours. She was no more dangerous than a lot of the other WISA agents ¨C yet the story travelled much better when it was a beautiful woman at the centre of it. Whoever said that ¡®sex¡¯ didn¡¯t sell even in this abstract form?

    ¡°I¡¯m nothing more than a concerned onlooker. It was rather shocking to begin my morning with an armed invasion of the academy by a group of strangers ¨C but that would be inaccurate. I¡¯m well aware of who you are. A friend of mine decided to meet with Welt, and a cadre of your friends arrived to intervene when they tried to arrest him.¡±

    ¡°They sure make you kids grow up fast these days. Shouldn¡¯t you be worrying about schoolyard gossip instead of this morbid crap?¡±

    ¡°That would be preferable, yes. As you can see ¨C circumstances dictate that I and my friends dedicate our time to fighting fires and trying to keep our bodies free from fast-moving foreign objects. You will find that I am more than mature enough to grapple with serious subjects.¡±

    He pulled out the letter and held it aloft, ¡°Would a mature person send a letter like this?¡±

    ¡°They would if they were knowingly manipulating the person on the receiving end.¡±

    His smile faltered for a brief moment. He licked his lips and put it back into his pocket. He couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing.

    ¡°I understood perfectly well when I sent that to you that your answer would be no. You have no reason to accept it, even if it were truly penned by Dalia. Welt has asked you specifically to contain both his enemies and his allies¡¯ children, including Sir Braun. Dalia is under the illusion that this offers her special treatment.¡±

    He exhaled in a long whistle, ¡°You¡¯re pretty damn sharp, lass. Alright. You¡¯re on the money. That¡¯s what Welt wants us to do. What about it?¡±

    Appealing to his sense of morality or decency was a wasted effort. He was a true believer. His body was already enhanced with whatever strange technique Welt had discovered with his conspirators. He was also put in charge of the group because he could be trusted to follow orders.

    Sometimes negotiation was simply not on the cards. He was already deep into the weeds on this one, and surrendering or giving up did not benefit him.

    ¡°First, I¡¯d like to know your name. It¡¯s rather rude of me to address you without it.¡±

    He smiled disarmingly, ¡°Darin.¡±

    ¡°Darin, I honestly don¡¯t understand why Welt feels that this is a good idea. A great many of the students here were dumped by their parents because they did not want to deal with them.¡±

    He found that amusing enough, ¡°That¡¯s one way of looking at it, but Welt says that they¡¯d go to any lengths to keep their current succession secure. They don¡¯t want it changing all of a sudden.¡±

    ¡°You have no intention of hurting anyone here, do you? This is all theatre ¨C designed to create the illusion of menace for your intended audience.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to. I already know. The only question I have is what will you do if Welt¡¯s plan doesn¡¯t succeed?¡±

    ¡°I get it. You¡¯re a republican, right? I heard that your Father was big into that kinda¡¯ stuff.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think that I care about your ¡®greater¡¯ plans? I simply wish to ensure that none of us meet a grisly end by your hand. I have no interest in politics.¡±

    It was a lie. I was playing into what Darin thought he knew about me. I was the very image of a spoiled little princess, the stereotypical selfish noble that he conjured up in his mind when the moment allowed. What he knew about Maria Walston-Carter was her excessive privilege and comfortable upbringing. That was an environment almost hand-built to generate a parade of selfish characters.

    ¡°You¡¯re clearly not concerned about my wellbeing. I am holding you hostage at gunpoint. Why else would you ask?¡±

    ¡°The truest measure of a man is only revealed when his carefully laid plans go wrong. Welt has already demonstrated a lack of patience and temperament, and I doubt he will react any better if his larger play goes awry. What happens to you if he fails? What happens to us when you¡¯re faced with that test?¡±

    Darin considered my question for some time before deciding that using an illustrative example would be easier than grappling with it.

    ¡°You see my skin? A few years ago, I got told that I wouldn¡¯t last into my forties. I was already working with Welt ¨C and he offered to try a risky solution. I didn¡¯t have anything to lose, so I agreed. Even now I¡¯m on nothing but borrowed time. Ever since I was ¡®cured,¡¯ I¡¯ve been wondering when the music stops and I drop dead like I was meant to.¡±

    ¡°And because of that you feel comfortable risking it all for his sake?¡±

    He shrugged, ¡°I want to do something big with my life before I die. I was already meant to be dead.¡±

    And that big achievement was not likely to be becoming infamous for murdering a bunch of students on Welt¡¯s orders.

    ¡°I suppose we do have something in common then. I¡¯m going to ask you nicely to take your people away from the campus and wash your hands of this entire scheme.¡±

    ¡°No can do, little lady.¡±

    Now to cement Maria Walston-Carter in his mind as the troublesome one to keep an eye on.

    ¡°Then I do hope that you¡¯re ready to face the consequences. When they arrive, by all means, blame me.¡±

    Darin laughed, ¡°Consequences? You¡¯re gonna¡¯ go beg your Dad for help like all the other snot-nosed punks that come to this school.¡±

    I remained impassive and walked away. The proof was in the doing ¨C and I already had big plans for Darin and his merry band of goons.

 Chapter 139

    Veronica was still knee-deep into her investigation into Welt¡¯s whereabouts when she received an urgent coded message from one of the people assigned to watch the border with Avatria. A group of eleven armed men, ostensively dressed as Avatrian soldiers, opened fire on a border post and killed three.

    They were quickly pushed back by the local garrison, and six of the eleven culprits were killed in the ensuing shootout. The other five escaped and were being sought by the police and military in the area. Normally this would be outside of Veronica¡¯s remit, but the fact that she was being asked to drop by was a clear signal that it wasn¡¯t what it seemed on the surface.

    What she found upon arriving at the field office was a concerned-looking Agent Adler, and a table covered with various pieces of evidence taken from the bodies of the ¡®soldiers.¡¯ They were travelling light for a group that had supposedly crossed the mountain range that separated the two countries in this area.

    The majority of their carry-weight was taken by the rifles they brought and a few spare stripper clips. There was also a pair of military-issue Avatria coats. Veronica was very familiar with the look due to her prior work at the border, however brief it may have been.

    ¡°Thanks for dropping by on short notice. I know you¡¯re very busy at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Adler. I take it that there¡¯s a good reason for me to be here?¡±

    ¡°I gave you the short version in my message, but there¡¯s more to say that I can¡¯t risk sending. Two days ago, a group of eleven men attacked a border post. They were beaten back and fled - ditching their uniforms and weapons in the process. We¡¯ve collected them here.¡±

    ¡°Were they Avatrian?¡±

    ¡°No. Our working theory is that they stole the uniforms. The ambassador to Avatria contacted the ministry and asked if they¡¯d had any shipments go missing recently. Their ambassador replied and said that there was a report of one crate going missing during transit three weeks ago. He also condemned the attack, but that¡¯s a given...¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t just go on his word ¨C even if we¡¯re willing to accept it. The brass won¡¯t be happy.¡±

    ¡°There are plenty of reasons to dismiss the ¡®Avatrian attack¡¯ theory out of hand. A group of eleven is hardly the type of military deployment that we¡¯d see from Avatria to attack a fortified position. The biggest giveaway is these rifles.¡±

    Agent Adler was a gun nut. If there was ever an inquiry or question that involved firearms, military uniforms or technology designed to kill ¨C he was the man to speak to. His office back at HQ was filled with multiple overstuffed bookshelves, a chaotic combination of officially published manuals and old design documents for everything from pistols to artillery guns.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with the rifles?¡±

    Adler took one of them from the table and held it up for her to see.

    ¡°These are civilian import patterns. Wagner-Aber is one of the few companies that export firearms across the border into Walser, but they also provide these FL-19 rifles to the military in Avatria. There are a lot of tell-tale differences between the two models.¡±

    ¡°Such as?¡±

    Adler pointed them out with his finger, ¡°The trigger guard and rear grip are more ergonomic. The rear sights are different. The safety switch is round instead of square. There¡¯s also no mounting point for a bayonet, and nowhere to attach a frame if you want it. The wood the body is made from is also finished to a higher quality than what the poor fellows in the army get.¡±

    The stamp on the metal part of the assembly was also a dead giveaway that these weren¡¯t military guns. It wasn¡¯t necessary to learn what the serial number meant when there were so many cosmetic differences that could be seen from a mile away.

    ¡°To put it bluntly, there¡¯s no way that anyone standing in the Avatrian army would use these. They¡¯re made in limited quantities and aren¡¯t handed out by the army. They were purchased domestically and brought up here for the attack.¡±

    He placed the rifle back down on the table. Amongst the recovered objects were flasks, binoculars, bandages and packs of playing cards.

    ¡°Did they have marching orders on them?¡±

    ¡°No. They were smart enough to keep any documentation off of their person.¡±

    Veronica took a step back and considered the information that she was being given. This had Welt¡¯s fingerprints all over it and that was why Adler had been asked to reach out to her. He was a hard-line nationalist. He wanted to put Avatria in its place in another big war because fighting Avatria was considered a core part of Walser¡¯s identity.

    Never mind the fact that there hadn¡¯t been a full-scale conflict between them for fifty years, and Welt wasn¡¯t old enough to have fought in the last one, but that wasn¡¯t going to stop him. He was safe in the knowledge that only poor folk would be spilling blood on the battlefield to satisfy his cravings.

    It was a potent political symbol. Stoking tensions and fearmongering about an incoming invasion were common fixtures in the monarchists¡¯ political campaigns. They declared that the republican majority was moments away from opening the border and letting them spill through to conquer the productive, semi-industrialized areas along the mountain range.

    Welt wanted a fight with Avatria - or at least the illusion of one - because it would inevitably cause fractures in parliament and instability among the general populace. It was setting the scene for his grand takeover. He could swoop in with his cadet Van Walser of choice, insert his new secret police into the military, and turn the tide when things were looking dire.

    But the smartest part of the ploy was that it didn¡¯t need to succeed in full. A lot of people wouldn¡¯t read beyond the headline. They¡¯d hear that a group of Avatrian soldiers attacked a Walserian border post and start clamouring for blood. They would wonder aloud why the government wasn¡¯t launching an immediate invasion as revenge.

    Once that initial story was out and circulating, they were less likely to listen to any corrections or clarifications. From their perspective, the government would just be covering its own arse and trying to wriggle out of doing something about it.

    ¡°We¡¯ve kept the vultures away for the time being, but this place leaks like a broken faucet. Someone is going to get handed a wad of bills and spill it to the papers. The government¡¯s already running crisis management talks to try and cut them off at the head.¡±

    Veronica''s brow creased into a deep frown, ¡°Welt¡¯s connections in the press will publish it no matter what the truth is. I doubt it¡¯ll even matter if we keep them away from the scene. Welt will have tipped them off and pushed a certain narrative to them for print.¡±

    Adler nodded; ¡°It¡¯s a win-win for him. Even if the story doesn¡¯t hold up under scrutiny, or a war with our neighbours doesn¡¯t happen, he only needs that moment of instability and anger from the public to strike.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s assessment was that the government would resist any attempt to inflame a war between Walser and Avatria. It would be long, costly, and potentially harm them in the polls if their ¡®victory¡¯ was not swift and consequence-free. There was no easy way out if they committed.

    That would avoid a scenario wherein Welt¡¯s demon-enhanced soldiers were integrated into the military. He would instead have to focus on an intensive media campaign to stoke anger about the border attack. The pressure would have to come entirely from the citizenry instead.

    Some agitation here, a few nobles on his side in parliament there, and a Van Walser who was willing to seize power by stepping over the King. Those were the ingredients for a complete takeover.

    ¡°We¡¯re two steps behind. I think we¡¯re out of time too. Welt is going to take the next step soon, perhaps when the news breaks and it¡¯s on the front page of every paper in the country.¡±

    Adler clicked his tongue, ¡°He¡¯s going to have a hard time of it. Haven¡¯t they gotten parliament and the palace locked down tight?¡±

    ¡°They do now, but protecting the King and a few politicians isn¡¯t going to help if Welt takes control of the levers of power in Walser. That authority can dry up very quickly if he plays his cards right.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d better go and do something about it then. I¡¯m going to be stuck here pushing the head office¡¯s line to the local police for the next week.¡±

    Veronica did not like running from coast to coast chasing leads, but she preferred that to being put on public relations duty. Most of the local law enforcement she worked with were cooperative ¨C but some people were so blinded by the opportunity to use their authority that they jumped the gun and made WISA¡¯s life hell.

    She could only cross her fingers and hope that there wouldn¡¯t be a strong public reaction to the news. The police and government would have to get on top of the story with a controlled release and quickly assure the locals that this was not a real attack launched by their neighbouring country.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Veronica pined for the days when the newspaper industry was less of an ever-present threat to her line of work. She accepted a folder from Adler and tucked it away with the dossier of information she received from her contact for later.

    ¡°Before I go, did anyone report seeing individuals with deathly pale skin?¡±

    ¡°No. None of them stood out to the eyewitnesses. They were all men between twenty and fifty, athletic builds and healthy complexions.¡±

    ¡°Welt must be holding onto them for a more important job.¡±

    Veronica completed her end of the bargain by handing over a code-sheet that Adler could use with the telegram line, instead of relaying a message in person or via letter. Urgency was the word of the day. It contained a series of phrases that would immediately communicate the status of Welt¡¯s plan to the operator listening on the other end, without giving away any details.

    All of the obvious contingencies were near the top. Attacks on local government buildings, the theatre, the kidnapping of particular nobles and ministers, and any attempts to intrude on the royal family. Some less likely schemes ran a wide gamut from the mundane to the absurd.

    Veronica was willing to believe a lot. She¡¯d seen the illogical many times over during her work defending the nation ¨C but she still couldn¡¯t reckon with the pet theory of one handler who seemed to earnestly accept as true that Welt would soon attempt to control the nation¡¯s supply of tea. There were easier ways of torturing the upper-middle classes than that.

    Regardless, alert pattern three-hundred-fifty-two was intended for that eventuality! WISA would allocate its resources to protecting ports and other areas of transfer to bravely ensure that the import of tea and other luxuries could continue.

    What a joke.

    Veronica stepped out of the building near the border post in question and surveyed the damage for a second time. This lightly fortified location was intended to check the documentation and cargo of people moving between Avatria and Walser. It was constructed from brick and timber ¨C which had been torn to shreds by the onslaught of gunfire. There wasn¡¯t a single window left intact.

    Near to the post was one of the many military bases that lined the mountain range. There was less emphasis placed on them in recent years as relations thawed, but it was still the most heavily defended area of the country. Avatria was one of the few nations economically robust and technologically advanced enough to put up a fight.

    If Welt was all about restoring the honour of Walser ¨C it was not an ideal based on any objective criteria. He was an unvarnished ideologue. The old days were better and no amount of contrary evidence could convince him otherwise. Walser had never been stronger. It boasted the biggest, most disciplined and well-equipped military on the continent.

    On the civilian front, there was a gulf in industrialisation and quality of life. Walser was the object of envy for dozens of nations around the world. The race to connect every city with rail lines was a measuring tool for its progress. Soon it would take only a few hours to travel from villages to towns, to cities. Those old, scarred landscapes would become a distant memory too.

    Welt threatened all of that, and she wasn¡¯t going to stand for it. Every moment she breathed, every drop of blood spilt, it was all in the pursuit of something greater than what she felt when she was inducted into the Royal Order. Back then she had nothing to fight for but the egos of craven men.

    Now she was doing it for her daughter. If there was ever any peace to be found within Veronica for what she was and what she¡¯d done ¨C it would be through that lens. She understood now why some fought so tirelessly to create a safe environment for their family. Those fleeting moments she spent with her were enough to fill her with that purpose.

    Sometimes she allowed herself to believe that there would come a time when they could be a real family. Frankfort insisted that the times were changing, but the Royal Order and WISA only had one retirement plan on offer.

    You were turning in your badge on the day of your funeral ¨C or not at all.

    <hr>

    With my warning delivered and Darin put on notice, I now had to contemplate what exactly those consequences would be. My assessment was that he was more likely to leave the students alone than not. Welt must have persuaded him to take part in the plot by telling him that he wouldn¡¯t have to physically harm anyone.

    That was his mistake. Welt was the sort of person who would try to take a mile when you gave them an inch. Hearing a rosy proposal about the job and being here in the mix were two very different situations. What would he do if things went south?

    I returned to my room and found Samantha waiting for me at the door. I stepped inside and she wordlessly followed me inside without asking for an invitation. I ignored her ¡®bad manners¡¯ and moved to the far side of the room next to the closest. This wasn¡¯t the best time to talk with me. I was still riding the high of confronting Darin, in business mode, so to speak.

    I¡¯d be techy and irritable and have little patience for vague, open-ended questions.

    ¡°What are you planning on doing here exactly?¡±

    I unbuttoned my blazer and placed my pistol on the desk.

    ¡°You sound very accusatory, Samantha.¡±

    Her lips thinned out to a narrow line; ¡°It¡¯s not me. It¡¯s Claude and Adrian. I¡¯ve long since accepted that you do what you please without caring much for other people¡¯s opinions.¡±

    ¡°It is not that I don¡¯t find value in other perspectives ¨C but they often arise during times of urgency. If I held back and listened to what they had to say, there would be a strong chance that we wouldn¡¯t be here speaking right now.¡±

    ¡°You mentioned violent people not being reasonable before.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct. If they have already drawn their weapons and started terrorizing and murdering us, then what is there left to speak of? At that moment you have to take action even if you feel it is unsavoury or immoral.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s not me. Claude says he heard rumours about one of the hostage-takers being dragged into the old schoolhouse by his arms and legs like a sack of old potatoes. He thinks you did it.¡±

    I held my hands up, ¡°I work quickly, but not that quickly. To attack one of them now would be an act of utmost recklessness.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed, ¡°Are you sure about that?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You may disagree, but I¡¯m trying to keep you informed as to what I¡¯m doing. Welt has caught me on the back foot in this case. I hoped to have wrapped this problem up before the term started, and I did not anticipate that the academy would become a target too.¡±

    ¡°When is this place not a target?¡± Samantha said wryly.

    ¡°Yes. I was being too optimistic.¡±

    Samantha stood there and watched while I discarded my outer layers and sat down on the edge of my bed. Her slackened fingers slowly tensed up, balling into a pair of fists that spoke to the odd emotion swelling up inside of her chest. She wanted to say something and it couldn¡¯t have been an easy proposal to make.

    Samantha was a girl who consisted of nothing but virtues. She was painfully honest, always reacted to hardship with a bright smile on her face, and never spoke an ill word of anyone unless it was justified by their bad behaviour.

    ¡°Do you have something to say?¡± I asked, breaking the impasse and spurring her on.

    ¡°It¡¯s... it¡¯s not fair. Who says that you have to be the one saving the day time and time again? Don¡¯t you ever get tired of it?¡± Samantha pleaded, ¡°I¡¯m sure that whatever Welt has planned is already known by everyone in the government. They¡¯ll take care of it!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand. The Goddess put us here in this place for a reason! We¡¯re going to dive headlong into disaster if we sit back and let him do as he pleases. It¡¯ll be the Scuncath all over again.¡±

    ¡°The Goddess doesn¡¯t see you as a... tool!¡± Samantha shouted.

    I shook my head, stood up, and pushed back against her broad shoulders. The silence that followed made it clear that I held the opposite opinion. Her face progressed through several different emotions before settling on worry.

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean that. Please tell me you don¡¯t feel that way.¡±

    She stepped out of my reach and looked to the floor.

    ¡°You are no tool, Samantha. It is a very different story when it comes to my part in this. Durandia wants me to be her expression of violence against those who would doom the world through their mad ambition.¡±

    Samantha shook her head violently, ¡°That can¡¯t be right! The Goddess would never do that to an innocent person! What did you do to deserve this?¡±

    I nodded my head in the direction of my discarded gun on the desk. I had no shortage of sins to be punished for ¨C even after I had been reincarnated into this empty shell and tasked with saving the world. There was no clean break. I was thrown headfirst into a desperate situation that demanded my compliance.

    Samantha looked at the gun, and then back to me.

    ¡°I¡¯m not innocent. I¡¯m not seeking redemption, nor do I expect to receive it. I made a resolution to myself not to back down and go out without a fight.¡±

    The wall was lowered for a moment. Samantha could tell that this was a truth spoken from the heart ¨C free from the pretences or the verbose words that defined my everyday speech. A small portion of my real accent bled through towards the end as well.

    ¡°That may be true, but you have us.¡±

    I smiled, ¡°I believe that you will be key to solving this crisis ¨C but the others remain an unknown element.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a polite way of calling ¡®em useless.¡±

    ¡°Would you trust Claude to navigate his way out of this?¡±

    She frowned, ¡°He can get pretty lucky, ignoring that time he got shot at the theatre...¡±

    Luck wasn¡¯t going to get us off of the campus and on Welt¡¯s tail though.

    ¡°I warned their leader that there would be consequences if they didn¡¯t let us go ¨C although even I¡¯m not sure what those consequences are going to be. Picking them off one by one isn¡¯t going to work. We may need to think bigger than that.¡±

    It would take too long to clean them up properly without being seen. Not to mention an unspoken desire to avoid killing a lot of people on campus after the previous incident with Prier. It felt like a bad omen to start that kind of fight in a place primarily used by children.

    Samantha was evidently not done addressing her confusion about my relationship with Durandia, but I was moving on to the next subject and ignoring her for the time being. Having a crisis of faith would get in the way.

    ¡°How do you scare away an entire group of adult men with guns?¡± Samantha said.

    ¡°That is a difficult question to answer. They aren¡¯t a pack of skittish birds doddering around in the gardens. It¡¯ll have to be a powerful reason for them to evacuate the premises post-haste. Perhaps the potential arrival of the police would spur them to leave before they face any consequences for doing this.¡±

    ¡°And how do we alert the police to what¡¯s going on? We¡¯re in the middle of nowhere.¡±

    If only I¡¯d stolen some explosives from Veronica during the cult saga. That would have caught their attention. It was then that a bright idea occurred to me. The police didn¡¯t have to know what was going on at all. Welt¡¯s hit squad merely had to believe that they were on their way to the campus.

    They had scouted the entire place from front to back and there were no telegram lines leading out of the premises. Therefore, the only way to make them fear for their safety would be to imply that one of the teachers or students was making a break for it.

    ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s time to exchange my reputation for assistance from the other students,¡± I pondered, ¡°After all ¨C they¡¯re very good at spreading rumours. For example, say that a small group of teachers are planning on escaping through a previously unknown exit...¡±

    Samantha¡¯s mood finally turned; ¡°...They¡¯d start to panic. They wouldn¡¯t want them to run to the police and get this place surrounded.¡±

    Combine that with some other efforts to unsettle their cohort and spread division and it was a recipe for a finely tuned plan to go completely awry. Claude and Adrian would actually get to help me out without having to learn how to shoot too.

    Darin felt that our discussion was nothing more than the whimsical threats of a sheltered girl less than half his age. In truth, he had exposed how committed he was to this plan. That crack in the line was open for me to exploit, and I need only drive a wedge through it and apply the appropriate level of force.

 Chapter 140

    The crunch meeting was finally upon Welt. It was time to speak with his backers in the Capital and make it clear what the state of play was going to be moving forward. The meeting was to be held in the utmost levels of secrecy, with letters sent to a select group of individuals, who themselves would then dispense what they heard to a list of others.

    Such accommodations were now necessary given that Welt was a wanted man. Smuggling himself from place to place was a bother of the highest order. WISA and the police were searching high and low for him, and there was little doubt in his mind that someone with insider information would lose their nerve and leak sensitive information to them in time.

    Even his best efforts to assemble a group of people with the will and bravery to see it through weren¡¯t perfect. To wit ¨C some of the men he assigned to manage the blood-infused problem solvers had spoken too loudly while in the presence of other low-ranking members, who then spread that information on to WISA. Suddenly his supply of ferdinol, essential to making them compliant and ready for action, was in jeopardy.

    That strained his ground troops and how much they could cover. He could no longer rely on doped wrecking balls to cause the type of unrest and chaos that he was hoping for. Those who were loyal to the cause would have to pull double duty and take on some of those jobs in their place.

    Huddled in the back of a three-story noble townhouse on the edge of the city, a veritable cascade of notable and important figures crammed into the sitting room and prepared to hear Welt¡¯s final pitch. Jonas Rentree, Micah Greenblatt, Jeremiah Vincent and more ¨C there was a collective wealth worth hundreds of millions of marks between them.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready to answer our questions, Sir Welt ¨C there has been troubling news travelling around the media lately,¡± Micah said between puffs on his cigar.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have called you all here in these pressing circumstances for a custodial meeting. While it may not have been the day we planned for, I am ready to take on the challenge and see it through.¡±

    The assembled nobles, businessmen and restoration-aligned politicians were Welt¡¯s closest supporters. They were the ones willing to put their livelihoods on the line to see the monarchy restored as Walser¡¯s ultimate authority. They all had their own reasons to do so ¨C but Welt was not in the business of prying.

    ¡°The King has long shied away from restoring the rightful powers of his station for the sake of protecting Walser. It is no longer an issue that we can ignore. We will deliver our ultimatum to him. He will shred that piece of waste paper they call the Compromise, or he will be replaced by someone who is willing to do so in his stead.¡±

    To hear the words spoken aloud was the first indication that some of the visitors had received that Welt was earnest in his efforts.

    Jonas Rentree spoke out; ¡°So who will take his place, should it come to that? You never did tell us who the new King shall be.¡±

    It was a significant point of contention to everyone he spoke with. Welt was keeping the name under wraps on purpose to get them all on the same page. Now was the time to lay out all of the cards. He nodded, ¡°Ekkehard Van Walser has agreed to take on the mantle.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t he poorly regarded by the house?¡±

    Welt tried not to let his mask slip when that question was pointed at him. Welt was concerned about Ekkehard¡¯s role in the plot. He was close enough to the direct line of succession that he could realistically stave off any challengers once placed on the throne, but he was also weak enough that Welt could use his influence to push him around.

    But that was only to benefit Walser. Welt wanted someone who would be at least capable of leading the nation through troubled times. The careful planning and preparation were all in service of shoring up his position once he was inaugurated as King. Welt could ¡®adjust¡¯ his level of safety depending on the circumstance.

    For now, he was going to lie.

    ¡°Ekkehard is poorly regarded only because he shares our perspective on Walser¡¯s future. The theatre and the good-for-nothing clowns within have dehorned the once proud house and rendered them gutless in the face of danger. They are too comfortable, being fed from the government¡¯s hand and being permitted to keep their wealth and status.¡±

    Jonas did not seem entirely convinced, but he was one of the most problematic members of the coup. His cynical view was often a helpful tool for Welt to use when around the others, allowing him to address his concerns and show the rest of the gang that everything was under control. The issue came when swaying his personal opinion was the goal.

    Jeremiah took his turn to ask questions.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready to do as you ask, Sir Welt. Are all of the pieces in place for us to begin in earnest?¡±

    ¡°They are. Make no mistake, this meeting is the beginning of it all. When you leave this place and return to your respective homes ¨C I expect you to disseminate your orders in accordance with the plan. Two days from now the process will begin. We will seize the seat of power in Walser and deliver our ultimatum to the King. He will restore the natural order of this nation, or we will replace him. Do I have your loyalty in this endeavour?¡±

    The men sitting in the room looked to each other for confirmation. Jeremiah was the first to raise his hand in affirmation, and from there the momentum carried the act throughout the room until all but one had pledged their allegiance to Welt.

    ¡°Sir Rentree, is there a problem?¡±

    Jonas tightened his lips, ¡°The quality of any outcome depends on the quality of the men you assign to lead. Ekkehard is not the most inspiring figure. Will the people rally around his leadership even if the Avatria part of the scheme fails to catch their imagination?¡±

    Welt smiled, ¡°I value your opinion, Jonas. Ekkehard will not be making any hasty decisions without consulting with us, I can assure you of that.¡±

    The show of hands ended and everyone returned to a neutral position. Jonas was now the centre of attention. All eyes were locked onto the discontented frown he bore. Welt was losing his patience. Why did he come all this way only to show his cowardice at the last possible moment?

    ¡°Jonas ¨C don¡¯t your son and daughter both attend the Royal Academy?¡±

    The atmosphere in the room took a sudden and harsh turn. The attendees all silenced themselves and paid close attention to the argument developing between Welt and Rentree.

    ¡°I hardly see how that¡¯s relevant,¡± Rentree said sternly. He was not intent on giving up ground.

    ¡°You already understand full well that we¡¯re to assume control of all of the important institutions in Walser. The Royal Academy was the first to be captured. My men are there as we speak.¡±

    Rentree stood from his seat and glared, ¡°You forget your place, Welt! We¡¯re not tools for you to use as you please, and now you¡¯re making threats?¡±

    ¡°It is no threat. The truth of the matter is that the process has already begun. Nothing will happen to anyone at the academy. I¡¯ve given strict orders to the men there not to so much as touch a hair on their precious little heads. Do you want to submit to your fear now and sit in the gallery, a silent witness to history in the making?¡±

    The silence was deafening. Welt and Rentree were locking horns, with no resolution in sight.

    ¡°You¡¯re ignoring my concerns. If Ekkehard can¡¯t win hearts and minds then this entire scheme is doomed to failure. The Civil War showed the average citizen that they have the means to change the course of this country, and that is not a lesson that will soon be forgotten. ¡®The gate is open and the horse has bolted,¡¯ as those rural folk like to say.¡±

    This was a fundamental difference of opinion between Welt and Rentree. Welt was an elitist, he did not understand the multivalent factors that led to the outbreak of the war. He believed that the controls of the great ship of state were reserved for him and his ilk and no one else. He could simply strike against the common man with his hammer and forge them into whatever shape he pleased.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Rentree was similar in goals and intent, and he did feel that there was still a place for the nobility and political dynasty, but to ignore the war and how it impacted Walser was a folly of the worst variety. Appointing an unpopular figurehead to the throne would see them summarily removed and hung from the palace gate.

    What the Civil War demonstrated to Rentree was that no amount of force could resist an organized resistance made up of the majority of the nation¡¯s population. Where Welt hoped to use a blunt instrument to correct that deformed metal, Rentree hoped to embed their authority within those institutions with the precision of a scalpel. The people couldn¡¯t become angry if they didn¡¯t know what was happening behind the scenes.

    Micah was the one who interjected to break the impasse.

    ¡°Gentlemen, there¡¯s no need to argue this now. Sir Welt has been extremely clear that we¡¯ll keep Ekkehard on a short leash, and throw our collective weight behind him to stay the civil society and institutions that surround the King. Is that not why you¡¯ve been gathering collaborators in and out of government?¡±

    Rentree backed down with a weary sigh, ¡°As long as you keep my concern in mind. You will have to pay a close eye to what happens when his ascension is announced.¡±

    Welt silently thanked his lucky stars that Micah jumped in to break up the argument. Rentree was digging his heels in ¨C and that would only lead to his protests becoming more stringent and removing any room for compromise.

    ¡°Are we all in agreement? I would like to declare the official initiation of our revolution.¡±

    The assembled plotters cheered in agreement.

    ¡°Excellent. Gentlemen ¨C they will remember our names for thousands of years should we succeed, and we will be regarded as the ones who saved this nation from a tawdry and sad end.¡±

    Welt took a glass of whiskey from the table and held it aloft in a toast.

    ¡°To the future, my friends.¡±

    <hr>

    There was an unusual silence in the old schoolhouse.

    The death of a man from a sudden and unexpected heart attack quickly sobered the jovial attitude that some of the team members attempted to curry by drinking alcohol and playing card games in the lounge. The games continued ¨C but they were played in respectful silence.

    Koch quickly submitted to his baser instincts and started to spread as much doom as he could conjure from his disturbed mind. Having one of their comrades die suddenly of an undiagnosed heart condition was unsettling enough without his undesired commentary on the situation. It grated even more for those who were not of a religious inclination as he was.

    ¡°We should be on our hands and knees beggin¡¯ the Goddess almighty for mercy!¡±

    Darin was far too occupied with the declaration of ¡®consequences¡¯ from Maria Walston-Carter to pay any mind to what he was saying. Normally he would have laughed it off and gone about his business, but this was a delicate situation and kids her age could make a hell of a mess without even trying.

    What would happen if a girl like her tried to cause trouble? It would likely come in the form of a police blockade around the campus, and at that stage, he had no confidence in their ability to hold them off or negotiate their way out. They would be at the mercy of Welt¡¯s part of the plan succeeding so they could be pardoned by his new appointees in the justice system.

    Even if he attained total control and restored the Van Walser family to their rightful place, it would still take time for that change to occur. He checked and double-checked all of the information they gathered about the campus and made his men walk the length of the exterior walls to check for any gaps that they could escape through.

    Dedicating that type of mind real estate to a teenage girl was equal parts humiliating and embarrassing. He was already on edge before Koch burst into the sitting room and started extolling his virtues to everyone with a working pair of ears.

    ¡°-Like I said ¨C that death was an ill omen! It won¡¯t be long before more start to occur all around us. Tragedy always brought about more tragedy, that¡¯s what always happened back in my village! I hope you¡¯re paying attention, Darin!¡±

    Darin stood up from his chair and almost bit his head off.

    ¡°Shut up. You¡¯re driving everyone mental with this bullshit!¡±

    Everyone watching the exchange visibly winced at Darin¡¯s reaction.

    ¡°You¡¯re not taking me seriously and it¡¯s going to cost you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not taking you seriously because you have nothing of worth to say, you bloody great fool! Go pray somewhere quiet so I don¡¯t have to hear you prattling on for hours while I¡¯m trying to keep this thing from going wrong!¡±

    Koch was furious. He turned red in the face like a blooming rose. He stormed out of the room and to elsewhere in the building to try and find someone who would listen to his pleas. Darin stood with his shoulders squared and a nervous twitch on his brow.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting some fresh air,¡± he declared.

    He stepped out of the still-open doorway and into the corridor that ran along the side of the building. A set of tall, arched windows looked out from the third floor and across the backyard at the manor house that was used as the main area. It was a good place to keep an eye on what was going on.

    The lights were still burning across the way. Darin placed his hands against the window sill and leaned closer to fill his lungs with cool air from a small crack in the window. There was a shadowy figure watching from the manor.

    Darin focused his gaze and tried to adjust to the darkness. Upon closer inspection, he deduced their identity. It was Maria again. She was watching the building like a hawk and did not flinch away from letting him know even when he was staring back at her. She was a brave one ¨C he had to admit that. Even knowing that he was looking back didn¡¯t make her run away.

    ¡°Boss!¡±

    He turned to his left. One of the night watchmen had run all the way back into the building from one of the gardens.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Me and George were running the route on the East side ¨C and we spotted a channel someone started digging under a spot in the wall. They didn¡¯t get very far, so we kicked dirt back into it.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re trying to get out?¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a very good effort. I think they used trowels taken from the greenhouse, based on how deep and wide the cuts were. I bet it was the kids. Some of ¡®em must be in a panic about what¡¯s going on.¡±

    Not another problem to worry about! Darin could feel the crow¡¯s feet around his eyes encroaching even more onto his features as the stress piled on without rest.

    ¡°You and George make sure that they didn¡¯t stash them somewhere nearby, and I¡¯ll get the others to go around and clear out any tools they can use to dig out of here.¡±

    Escaping from the academy was a difficult task with all of the exits kept under watch. It was surrounded on three sides by a tall brick and stone wall which was carefully maintained, complete with iron spikes to keep the riff-raff from climbing over. It had deep foundations that made digging underneath it a long and arduous process.

    The back end of the property was dominated by a wide river which acted as a natural barrier. There was no boat to transport people across, and crossing that treacherous stretch was a dangerous task even for experienced swimmers. There was no telling what lurked beneath the canal¡¯s dark, churning waters.

    Darin has assumed that the kids would be too timid, and too self-preserving, to risk crossing him and his group when they were armed. They didn¡¯t know that there was no real threat behind what they were doing. He turned back to where Maria was standing a moment before ¨C but she was already gone.

    ¡°Do they teach them about showmanship too?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, what did you say?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. Go grab Frank and search the place, he needs the exercise on that bum leg.¡±

    Darin was left alone again. He continued to spy on the main building for some time, but there was no sign of the girl who issued that ominous warning. She was staying away, happy to plant that seed of doubt in his mind. What could she do, realistically? He predicted that she would try to contact the police somehow, but the campus was miles away from the nearest dispatch box.

    Welt had timed it all to perfection. They¡¯d taken the campus at the start of the month after the deliveries were made. No visitors were permitted because of the prior incidents ¨C so there would be next to no risk of anyone coming across the scene and discovering the hostage situation. Maria couldn¡¯t pass a note to a delivery person and have them smuggle it out. They would be long gone by then.

    Nor was there a telegram line leading out. No matter how he looked at it, he could not come up with an effective way of getting a message over the walls and into the hands of anyone who could stop them. She would need to clamber the walls or dig a tunnel beneath while also avoiding their patrols.

    The last thing that Darin was conceptualizing was her grabbing a matchbox and burning down the old schoolhouse with them still inside of it, or her sneaking through the gardens at night and picking them off one by one like a jungle predator. He was fundamentally blinded by the outward perception of Maria Walston-Carter. She was a bratty noble born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

    That was the way she liked it.

    Going two levels down to figure out that type of layered social manipulation was not the path Darin thought to tread. He closed the window to keep the hallway warm and walked back into the sitting room, where some of the gang had started to sleep on whatever furniture they could find with an open space.

    Theo was still up and about.

    ¡°Darin, I think that Koch is going to be a problem. He was talking some crazy stuff when you weren¡¯t in the room before.¡±

    ¡°About praying to the goddess? Let him vent. No point picking an argument with him over it, even if he tries to make a shrine in one of these empty rooms.¡±

    ¡°No, not that. He keeps flipping between thinking it was a bad omen and accusing someone at the academy of being responsible for it, or maybe he¡¯s combined the two in his head somehow. Said he wanted to take ¡®em to task for it.¡±

    ¡°For goodness¡¯ sake! Welt¡¯s going to have our arses if we actually hurt one of those bloody kids! He doesn¡¯t want their parents to have a reason to stick it to him!¡±

    Trying to find him in the middle of the night would be impossible. There were too many places to hide on the campus, made worse by the darkness that enveloped almost all of the garden areas.

    He hushed his tone to avoid waking the others; ¡°You hear from him or see him, you come tell me right away. I¡¯m going to have to slap some bloody sense into him. Tell the other lads as well.¡±

    ¡°Aye. I¡¯ll do that.¡±

    Darin had enough problems, why was Koch so intent on piling on more?

 Chapter 141

    It turned out that spreading false rumours around the academy was extremely easy with my downright undeserved levels of clout. I spoke with a handful of my fanclub and Talia ¨C telling her the truth, and the fangirls that someone on the campus was coming up with a way to get the word out to the police.

    Since every single student at the academy couldn¡¯t be trusted to keep the most basic of secrets to themselves, it was soon spread from wing to wing under hushed voices. Even better for me, the story mutated as they tweaked the details to make it seem more exciting or digestible.

    It was only a matter of time until the stories reached their ears. It was intended to put the group on edge and make sure that they couldn¡¯t get comfortable while keeping an eye on us. The dead body they were keeping hidden in the basement probably didn¡¯t help matters either.

    The act of scaring a group of fully grown and heavily armed men was not a simple one by any means, but it was technically possible in a world where many still held a strong sense of faith. It was a person¡¯s innate hypocrisy that allowed them to conduct themselves in this way, only to fear the wrath of their respective God or Goddess when it went wrong.

    I wasn¡¯t a believer myself. I didn¡¯t need to believe, because I knew that the Goddess was the real deal. She clearly had extensive influence over this world as some type of greater power. To look at it that way, you could conclude that I was the consequence that she had in mind when they decided to resort to violent means.

    I overheard a few discussions while skulking around the gardens and near the old schoolhouse that implied at least one devout member of their group was losing his damn mind already, and it was causing tension between them. That was the type of weakness that I could exploit.

    He would be putting all of the others on edge and making them uncomfortable with the situation, and the looming threat of a message getting out and the police surrounding the campus would further inflame tensions in their camp. My intent was for them to make a run for it before that could happen.

    If I succeeded ¨C I could make a mad dash to the city and try to insert myself into what absurd plot Welt was cooking up with his magically enhanced super soldiers. I could throw my body into the fray knowing that Durandia had her little script that all of the following events would occur to the tune of.

    It was odd to recall that technically, everything that had happened since I first arrived here was planned by her. The video game I played in my past life, my revival here, and the minute details that led me to be in this exact position were all accounted for. Still, it wasn¡¯t an infallible machine. The implication was that the ¡®Red Tree¡¯ they used could only peer so far into the distance.

    So, if she wanted to cook up a plot that took several years and included multiple prerequisite pieces, that would be much more difficult. There were six years between my finishing Love Revolution and my death in the hotel. All she needed me to do was to have a passing familiarity with it.

    Then she used the Red Tree again when the time came to see if it predicted the outcome she wanted. That was the biggest risk. If my presence didn¡¯t alter events to her liking ¨C then there would be no time to prepare a second person to take my place. The only answer to that would be to travel through time and try again.

    Could she even do that? There were a lot of unknowns about how this metaphysical society operated and what laws they followed. Adrian was permitted to have a time-travelling timepiece insofar as it didn¡¯t cause major ripples through the fabric of reality. The paradox would naturally close itself.

    It was radically different when adding a near-omnipotent Goddess with incredible powers to the mix. That may have been a bridge too far beyond the Veil where they resided. It sounded like a good way to cause a hell of a lot of trouble to me, so I concluded that it was forbidden in some manner. A rule was only as good as the ability to enforce it. Getting a re-do on past events or backing yourself up during them was a powerful tool in the wrong hands.

    However ¨C I could not discard my self-preservation instincts and rely on Durandia¡¯s guiding hand to save my bacon. She brought me into this world because I possessed the skills to beat back whatever dark forces threatened to tear a hole in the fabric of reality. I needed to use all of my guile to see it through to the end. Trusting the process was always at the forefront of my mind.

    Even if ¡®the process¡¯ was looking a little beat up these days...

    For example; normally I wouldn¡¯t let any witnesses see me or catch on to what I was doing. That was already out of the window, with Samantha, Max, Claude and Adrian all being clued into my secret identity. Nor would I intentionally involve an outside force in any of my jobs. Adding more moving parts to a plan created more points of failure. Humans were very good at screwing shit up.

    I screwed shit up too ¨C but at least I knew it was my fault when it happened.

    Lessons were suspended again. The teachers tried in vain to keep the regular schedule going, but it proved too difficult to keep the students in the right state of mind to absorb anything that was being said. Some of the students were terrified and flatly refused to leave their rooms for any period that wasn¡¯t mealtime.

    The real shock came from Darin¡¯s men, who followed the terms of their agreement with the principal down to the letter. They rarely encroached into the main building and they were always unarmed when they did so. He was keeping them on a tight leash, further cementing my opinion that they weren¡¯t told to cause real harm to the students.

    If they did, the nobles in question would have more reasons to stab Welt in the back to get their revenge. He wanted them to be compliant, not rebellious. They were here to give off the impression of danger. He would be lording his control of the academy over their heads as I spoke, whipping them into shape and asserting control over the wider high society.

    There was an exception though. It was inevitable that one of them would break the rules and go on a rampage. I was walking back to my room after another spy mission and found him harassing a trio of girls in the interior garden. He was a tall, burly man with sunken eyes and black hair.

    The girls were visibly petrified by the strange man who had stormed into the building and was now giving them a hard time over something they weren¡¯t connected to.

    ¡°You three are being funny. I asked you a simple bloody question, so I expect a bloody response! Don¡¯t they teach you any damn manners in this school?¡±

    If I was going to play the part of the hero ¨C it made sense to step in from time to time. I hopped down the stone steps and approached the scene of the crime with a stern frown.

    ¡°Excuse me, is there a problem here?¡±

    He paused his spittle-spewing tirade and craned his head around to face me. The three girls were equal parts happy and concerned about my presence in the situation.

    ¡°There is. There¡¯s a big bloody problem. I know what you lot have been up to. You think you¡¯re real smart, real funny, but one of you¡¯s got a lot to answer for.¡±

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    Durandia above his accent was thick. It was like he¡¯d descended from the Scottish Highlands to grace my ears with the gruff tones of a man who gargled a handful of gravel every night before he slept. I nodded my head in their direction as a silent warning that they should get away while he was distracted. The girls scattered and fled.

    I returned my attention to my new friend.

    ¡°And what would your name be, sir?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the one asking questions here,¡± he barked with teeth bared.

    ¡°It¡¯s good manners to address your opposite with their name,¡± I insisted, ¡°My name is Maria.¡±

    He didn¡¯t return the favour. He glared at me with venom in his eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m not causing any trouble, girl. I¡¯m asking questions ¨C but it seems that your parents never taught you lot right. It¡¯s not good to keep secrets, especially when it involves the death of a good man!¡±

    I tried my best to look surprised; ¡°Death? I haven¡¯t heard about a death on campus unless you¡¯re talking about what happened to Professor Prier some months back.¡±

    He was clearly in the throes of an irrational rage, caused in part by this incident involving his friend.

    ¡°This is a faithless country now,¡± he seethed, ¡°There¡¯s no consideration for others these days! We¡¯ve lost our way. Even kids, teenagers, taught from the moment that they¡¯re born that they¡¯re meant to serve nothing but themselves.¡±

    ¡°What does that have to do with me, exactly? You¡¯re hardly in a position to complain about being ¡®considerate¡¯ while keeping us as hostages. What would the Goddess think of this kind of behaviour?¡±

    My response threw him for a loop, but I could see the process that was playing out in his mind as he took in what I was saying. No amount of rhetoric could convince him his position was on a foundation of sand. He was already working to minimize the damage, excuse his hypocrisy, and reframe the argument in a way that benefitted him so he didn¡¯t have to eat crow.

    ¡°This is for the greater good, and we don¡¯t have any plans of angering the Goddess, that¡¯s for sure! You won¡¯t find a more devout follower than me.¡±

    So this was the one who was causing all of the trouble for Darin. He was out here getting the faces of the students to try and find who was ¡®responsible¡¯ for the death of the man in the basement. The purpose was to calm his anxieties and prove that it wasn¡¯t divine retribution for his actions. That very same ¡®retribution¡¯ was standing right in front of him as he spoke...

    ¡°What would you do if I claimed to be the one responsible for his death?¡± I queried.

    That gave him pause all over again. What would he do? That was the big question. Murder was, as expected, an extremely grave offence in the eyes of the modern worshippers of Durandia. Was it justifiable in their holy scripture to kill someone in retaliation, even if they were also a child?

    ¡°Is that your confession?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m trying to measure you. What would you do?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d... well, I¡¯d lock you up somewhere safe for a start,¡± he said unsteadily.

    ¡°But that would be a profoundly dishonest answer. You¡¯re obviously upset about what happened, so I find your assertions of punishment via confinement to be farcical in nature. Let me put it another way. Would you be willing to point that gun in my direction and kill me?¡±

    I could hear a pin drop. All of that righteous anger drained out of his features like air from a punctured balloon.

    ¡°You¡¯d... you¡¯d deserve it, I think.¡±

    My brow rose, ¡°Deserve it? The Goddess never spoke of those who ¡®deserved¡¯ and did ¡®not deserve¡¯ violence. To cross that line, to take the life of another, is divorced from the context surrounding it. For what reason would you bloody your hands and stain your soul so?¡±

    ¡°This is about restoring Walser-¡±

    ¡°-Yet restoring Walser does not demand that you distribute violence. Ask yourself, who stands to gain the most from making you besmirch the Goddess¡¯ teachings? The man who leads you, surely. His hands will remain clean ¨C and common men will be forced to bear the burden of her judgement.¡±

    This was becoming too philosophical for his liking, as it was for me. I wanted to steer him away from going crazy and blowing one of the students away, not invite him to the academy¡¯s debate society.

    ¡°I¡¯m only attempting to offer you a suggestion. Harassing the students will not get you any closer to the answers you seek. Was there any evidence that he died as a result of someone else?¡±

    That was the key conflict here. He wanted to believe that people only died for a reason, or at the hands of others, to find otherwise would be to submit to his fear of divine punishment from the Goddess.

    ¡°Your nurse said it was a cardiac arrest or something.¡±

    ¡°If that¡¯s the case, then I¡¯m afraid that your friend suffered from a bout of the most ill luck. It can happen to anyone with little to no warning, you know.¡±

    My intent was to nudge him towards the conclusion that it was an accident, and not connected to the whims of the Goddess who was punishing them for invading the campus. Instead, the look of panic on his face intensified all over again. He clutched the sides of his head and knelt down, curling up into a ball.

    ¡°Shit! I told Darin we should have started praying for mercy! He didn¡¯t listen to me!¡±

    ¡°What are you babbling about now?¡±

    He leapt back up to his feet, teeth bared, and sprinted out of the courtyard like a man possessed. I briefly followed him to ensure that he didn¡¯t go on a rampage through the campus as a result of his internal crisis, but he passed through the main lobby without incident and charged down towards where the old schoolhouse was to find the man in charge and give him a piece of his mind.

    There was no good reason for him to accept my explanation as true, but there was also no reason for him to believe that his friend¡¯s death was anyone¡¯s fault. It didn¡¯t work to approach his thought process rationality. He was bouncing between two different extremes with no regard for how far apart they were.

    To be frank ¨C I had never personally witnessed a man suffer a mental breakdown before. That was all new to me. I sighed and adjusted my wind-swept hair back into position. I was anticipating some kind of fight or conflict, but for all of his anger, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to legitimately harm someone old enough to be his son or daughter.

    This was what people like Welt did. They pushed and pushed and pushed until they were trapped and forced to make impossible decisions. Welt was not the one who bore the full horror of what he intended to do, that was reserved for the suckers and workers who followed along with him, lured in by the promise of a perfect yesterday.

    Adrian emerged from the corridor to my left ¨C attracted by the noise.

    ¡°What the heck was all of that shouting about?¡± he asked, ¡°It sounded like they were going to throw punches a few seconds ago.¡±

    ¡°One of those goons forced their way in and started harassing the other students. I succeeded in making him leave with a stern talking-to.¡±

    ¡°Stern is a light way of describing one of your verbal rampages...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m rather impressed that he has managed to keep them in line for two days straight. I was expecting trouble to start much earlier than it did.¡±

    ¡°You better hope he doesn¡¯t come back and do it again.¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t, and if he does, I¡¯ll break his fingers.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s face turned sour.

    ¡°That¡¯s... morbid.¡±

    ¡°These are morbid times we live in. Have you heard about the rumours going around?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, why?¡± he shrugged.

    ¡°Because you never pay any attention to what other people are speaking about. If you¡¯ve also heard of those rumours, then it means it¡¯s only a matter of time before they reach the ears of the men occupying the schoolhouse.¡±

    He didn¡¯t appreciate me using him as a barometer, but he refrained from starting a long-winded argument over it for the time being.

    ¡°I should have known you were responsible for those. What are you going to do if they decide that they have to keep us under close watch because of them? That¡¯d make your goal even harder.¡±

    ¡°It would be unfortunate, but there will be no harm done so long as they don¡¯t try to extract answers from us through torture or threats. This is the gambit. They come to believe the stories and flee before the police supposedly arrive, or they become paranoid and tighten the noose.¡±

    ¡°Tightening the noose sounds more problematic than you let on.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°Does it? With this untrained lot? I could sneak out of here with my eyes covered and my arms tied behind my back! The only reason I¡¯m still here is because I believe that Samantha will have to come with me.¡±

    Of course, I was also hiding the big problem with getting out of here the ¡®easy¡¯ way. It would potentially compromise my identity to the entire school, and make my position as a lady of noble birth much harder to maintain. Things were complicated enough without creating a cover story for gunning down several men and running through the forest like a chicken with its head cut off.

    ¡°What are you going to do now?¡±

    ¡°There are a few pieces left to put in place. We¡¯ll let this current rumour gather momentum for the day, and then I will push the second into the conversation alleging that someone is already seeking the police so they can come and siege the academy. They¡¯ll be forced to decide on the spot if it¡¯s worth the risk to stay.¡±

    ¡°And if it goes wrong?¡±

    ¡°Then I improvise.¡±

    I was also coming up with a way to melt my candelabra down into something I could use. There were a lot of tools on the academy grounds that I was not familiar with until I started looking into things. It was technically possible for me to do it myself without the assistance of a blacksmith.

    What I needed was some time and space to work in peace...

 Chapter 142

    Keeping the plates spinning was tricky, but with the foundation in place to force Darin¡¯s group into two sides I could execute another part of my plan in the intervening time. It was time to rid myself of the candelabra I¡¯d bought at the antique store. It was amusing to think that most of the customers had no idea that it possessed beneficial magical abilities.

    However, the catalytic candelabra ended up there in the shop ¨C it was perfect for me. Perhaps some bored noble had commissioned it on a lark after finding the colour interesting. Some blacksmith would have taken the raw metal and transformed it into a usable piece of furniture for their dining room.

    Now I had to melt it back down again and shape it into a more useful pair of armbands. The arms were where most of the body¡¯s magic was concentrated when casting spells. It was technically possible to do the same using any of your limbs, but shooting bolts of energy from your toes was both impractical and more difficult than using your more precise fingertips.

    Originally I planned to take it to a genuine blacksmith and get that done on my dime, but that was out of the window now. Welt was going to trigger his plan whether I was ready for it or not, and I didn¡¯t have the time to go walking around the city looking for one of the few local smiths who were still operating. I¡¯d have better luck further out in the countryside where they were on hand to repair tools and the like.

    I was going to have to figure out my own solution. Luckily for me, there was a groundskeeper¡¯s hut tucked away in the gardens. The combined workshop-storage space contained a hearth and chimney that would be more than enough to

    Kursiela had a low melting point, far lower than I anticipated when I started drawing up plans to use it. That was one of the unique challenges it posed when utilized in a machine such as Snow¡¯s etherscope ¨C if it was allowed to heat up too much, it would bend and deform and cause all kinds of malfunctions. In essence, I wouldn¡¯t need a blacksmith¡¯s kiln to mould it.

    I stuck the candle holder under my coat and snuck away from the main building later in the afternoon. There was no reason for anyone to be out and about at this time of day, so I had an easy and clear walk down to the hut, where the rusted metal lock on the barn door proved no impediment to my entry.

    Inside was a small furnace used for incinerating the organic matter from the gardens that wasn¡¯t being composted. There was also a hammer buried beneath a pile of other tools on the workbench in the centre. I took that, some dry wood from the pile in the corner, some blunt clippers and a steel bucket.

    This was not ideal. Without any of the tools and methods that a blacksmith would use, I was forced to compromise and come up with my own process. I had the foresight to buy some cheap arm bangles to compare my work against during my trip to the city, but I was going to have to coat them in kursiela. The underlying metal would be the structural support. What mattered was having it in contact with my skin.

    All of the staffs and wands, and whatever else foreign mages used missed this important point. It wasn¡¯t about having a lot of it or shaping it in a particular way so as to direct your energy. Gripping a staff would mean that only your fingers and palms received the benefit.

    Turning them into a pair of gauntlets, or a set of rings, was more efficient and less intrusive. I could keep fighting in the way I preferred. I started by throwing dry wood into the furnace and setting it alight with a matchbook that was kept on the surface next to it.

    This was going to be difficult. I made sure that it was at the right temperature, pumping air into the flames to keep it going, along with more kindling. I returned to the table and grabbed the candelabra using the tongs. Mindful of the risk of losing some of my precious metal ¨C I carefully held it close to the flames and allowed it to heat through.

    After a few minutes, I could see it beginning to deform. I pulled it free and moved back to the table, using the hammer to smash it down into shape. The soft kursiela was easy to manipulate as I pleased. The first step was to turn it into a flat plate that I could bend into shape.

    There would be smoke and noise pouring from the shed in equal amounts, so I worked quickly and efficiently. Back into the fire it went for a few more minutes. I pulled it out again and continued. It didn¡¯t need to be flawless, nor could I make it flawless using nothing but a hammer.

    I dipped the result into a bucket of water to cool it off. The final plate was covered in bumps and dents, and some areas were thicker than others because of the original features, but it was thin enough that I could bend it to match the shape of my forearms. I made sure that it was cool enough before allowing it to touch my skin.

    I grabbed a saw and messily cut the plate into two pieces, one for each arm. I polished them off by using a piece of sandpaper from the toolbox I found. It was not a comfortable edge by any means. I would have to fashion a leather lining later to keep it from accidentally cutting into my flesh.

    But considering the pressing circumstances of their creation ¨C the armbands were exactly what I wanted. They fit snugly around both wrists and could be bent with enough force, making fine adjustments easier for me. There were some areas where it pulled away from my body, but it did have a very low resistance to magic passing through like a copper wire transferring electricity. That would cover the gaps that I missed.

    Anything was better than nothing.

    I pulled my sleeves down and concealed the makeshift gauntlets. I could even smack someone over the head with them if I wanted to. There was a leftover piece of the plate, but I couldn¡¯t think of what to use it for. It was likely going to be discarded as surplus to requirements. I was already flying too close to the sun by using the furnace for this.

    As if to respond to my train of thought, I could hear a voice calling out from outside.

    ¡°Oi! Is someone in there?¡±

    Why the hell was one of Darin¡¯s goons sniffing around the place? There were very few places to hide in the work shed, so I hid what I could, slammed the furnace doors shut to snuff out the fire, took the hammer, and tucked myself away in the back corner behind a piece of old sheet metal. The door I broke in through swung open and flooded the room with light.

    The guard stepped through and investigated the workshop. It was obvious that someone had been skulking around and using the tools inside. He must have been attracted to my position by the smoke ¨C even though I tried to pick a time when none of them were walking past this spot in the garden. For whatever reason this particular fellow was on high alert, and that plume of smoke was enough for him to come and investigate.

    I was split between sticking to my guns and running through the door. He was still marauding around with a rifle in his hands, and killing him was not the optimal solution when I knew that one of them was having a mental breakdown over an accidental death on the campus grounds.

    ¡°Is someone here?¡± he asked. He approached the furnace, feeling the heat emanating from the chamber. He started to second-guess his own decision to visit the shed. Perhaps it was just one of the teachers running errands and tending to the garden. An inspection of what was inside soon convinced him that there was nothing to concern Darin with.

    ¡°Must have scared them off...¡± he muttered. He left the way he entered.

    I emerged from my hiding place and kept a close eye on his back while he returned to his patrol route. Once I was certain that he couldn¡¯t see or hear me, I gathered my things and hurried back towards the main building. The path of least resistance was often the best choice.

    I had my magically conductive catalysts ready to go. Now all I had to do was test them at the range and make sure that they didn¡¯t melt or burn my flesh when I cast a spell. A spell cast by hand was magnitudes less energy intensive than the etherscope at the museum, but I was using a particular type of spell that lived and died by throwing a brutish amount of that energy to a specific spot.

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    I could not engineer a cooling system and affix it to my body. If they did not work as intended, then I would have to abandon my plan and think of another strategy to enhance my magic. The range was open and ready, though I was going to focus on nihility first and foremost. I shuffled behind one of the trees and focused on the dirt in front of me.

    Endurance test number one. I could cast my nihility spell four to five times on a good day - if I restricted the range and scope. It was good for dismantling delicate parts of firearms or severing arteries. It was also subtle. There was no real way to detect it without having already expanded your senses and entered a trance. In that manner, it was the ideal assassination tool.

    On the flip side, it was not as effective in direct combat. It could not do anything that would not be better served by a firearm. A pistol could hold more ¡®rounds,¡¯ fire at a longer range, and did not sap your energy and cause heightened fatigue or other ill effects from mana deprivation.

    I focused my senses and entered my spellcasting state. I was going to carve up the dirt behind the range. This was how I practised casting the annihilation spell consistently early on during the year, and now it served as a good control group for what I was doing with the gauntlets. I passed some energy through into my fingers, and it was immediately evident that a dense concentration of mana-thick air was leaking from seemingly nowhere. It surrounded my hands like a cloud of miasma.

    Having the energy run through them was warming them up to something slightly warmer than skin temperature. It wasn¡¯t enough to compromise their integrity, and thus I stepped forth and conducted my test. With a snap of my fingers, a large, orb-shaped chunk of dirt disappeared into thin air.

    I did it six more times before feeling fatigue starting to set in. I kept going. Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. That was my upper limit. I leaned back against the tree and marvelled at the increase in efficiency. They were frankly terrible pieces of work - but it had doubled the number of spells I could cast. Lower-intensity magic would be even more effective should there come a reason for me to use it.

    All I could do now was wait and see when the pressure cooker exploded...

    <hr>

    One may have assumed that Welt¡¯s coming revolution would kick off with a bang. However, as a man of high society, Welt was more concerned with the optics of the operation than most would expect. Everything had been planned to the finest details, including which armed groups would deploy where, and which politicians, police officers, and other civil society workers would allow them to take control.

    On a sunny morning they marched through the streets, storming the police stations and government institutes. The parliament building was taken, as were the ministries that surrounded it. The newspapers were next ¨C with plans for them to publish articles meant to sow confusion and disarray between any potential resistance.

    Softened by decades of peace, the citizens merely stood back and watched in bewilderment as the armed strangers walked through the open doors and occupied the buildings without a fight. Out of sight and ready to pounce were the magically enhanced soldiers that Welt had gone to great expense and risk developing.

    It was all proceeding smoothly. The last piece of the puzzle arrived at the Interior Ministry with a pair of ceremonial guards on his flanks. King Thersyn Van Walser, the namesake of many, and the wizened leader of the greatest nation on the planet. The guards remained by his carriage. He walked inside alone.

    Beneath the golden heraldry and heavy cape rested a face that before the weight of decades of leadership and experience. A man who was proud and humbled, with a long grey beard and wrinkles spreading across his speckled face. He remained a towering figure even in his older years.

    Welt did his best to appear unstricken with his presence, but a shameless monarchist could not help but revere the father of Walser. Welt was hoping that above all else he would not need to replace Thersyn with a toady. Rentree was right to worry about swapping him for another, lower-rung noble from the royal family.

    This was the final junction on the track he was building. Thersyn would either cave to the pressure and restore himself to his full, rightful powers, or he would step aside and be replaced as the King.

    ¡°Your Highness ¨C I hope that you¡¯re doing well.¡±

    The King was not amused; ¡°Spare me your damnable pleasantries. You have already made unreasonable demands of me. To come here in the midst of this mess, without anyone to keep watch.¡±

    ¡°Yet you arrived here all the same.¡±

    ¡°I have a responsibility to do what is right for Walser.¡±

    ¡°Then you should already know what the best path is. I¡¯ve assumed control of parliament, the government ministries, and every other arm of the government that does not involve you.¡±

    The King shrugged, unperturbed, ¡°Plain and simple treason.¡±

    Welt nodded, ¡°Some would see it that way. This can be a bloodless endeavour if you choose it to be, Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°Bloodless?¡± Van Walser scoffed, ¡°Do you understand what you¡¯re doing here? My priority, as it always has been, is to protect the people of this nation through my leadership. At a time when violence became our primary language ¨C I made a choice to disempower the crown, yet men such as yourself refuse to respect that.¡±

    ¡°The men in parliament are not bold, or brave, or just enough to lead Walser! The decay is happening right before our eyes!¡±

    ¡°You can peddle your flattering myths of the past to your friends and conspirators, but not to me. A man who cannot understand the scale of the destruction wrought by the civil war is peerless in his ignorance. We live in an age of enlightenment ¨C even the poorest men and women enjoy homes and lifestyles that would seem impossible just a few short decades ago. Walser is the envy of the world!¡±

    The King was as proud as any man could be. He believed earnestly in what Walser could be and what it was. An industrial, military and cultural powerhouse that was peerless on the continent. A nation that strode into the future, building model cities and towns with all of the new conveniences created by its genius inventors and industrialists.

    Teething problems were to be expected. There was disquiet and conflict, and often the men making the big decisions did not plan properly for the imminent. Yet it was progress all the same. King Van Walser was not ashamed of his nation, nor was he one to downplay how powerful it had become.

    Welt scowled, ¡°Why are you so happy to abandon what it means to be the King?¡±

    ¡°What is it to be the King of a destroyed nation? You aim your spite at me, yet if the worst did come to pass and the Compromise was never signed, you would be cursing my name for dooming Walser to split apart.¡±

    ¡°You sound like one of those pig-ignorant Republicans. It¡¯s ill-fitting for a man of your status.¡±

    ¡°Judge me however you please, Sir Welt. No answer can satisfy your craven ambition, nor have I ever attempted to wade into the dispute. They will hang you from the nearest lamppost should you give them the chance ¨C that is to say, good fortune will have to be on your side.¡±

    Welt clenched his fist, ¡°Is that your rejection, then? Do you refuse to be a part of this new history, to restore Walser to what it rightfully should be? They stole it from you! From us! The tyranny of the minority is already here. Because you relented, they learned that they could steer this ship however they please!¡±

    Thersyn was unmoved.

    ¡°Look around you. What happened here spurred similar revolutions across the world. When a great tide comes, there are those who choose to move with it and those who choose to stand and be crushed by it. If you wish to speak of legacy, then mine shall be thus; I was there when the future shape of the great nations was put into motion. When the books are written ¨C that will be presented above my station as King.¡±

    Welt was furious. He¡¯d never felt a rage like the one that burnt inside of his chest. This was the type of cowardice that he could not abide. What had happened to the great and ambitious man who once commanded the entire nation with a flick of his hand and a knowing look?

    As a final insult, he removed the crown from his head and held it out to him in his palms. The bejewelled headpiece had been used by the royal family for centuries. It was a beautifully crafted and painstakingly detailed piece, which spoke to the history of the arts and Walser¡¯s dominant position as a maker of all things metal. The symbolic meaning was obvious. He was giving it to Welt.

    ¡°If what you desire is to be the man in the chair ¨C then there is no need for us to discuss this any further. Appoint whomever you wish, but you shall not come back to me, crying for aid, when the inevitable failure of your ambitions comes to pass.¡±

    This was no abdication. It was a challenge, a dare. He was going to sit back and see where Welt¡¯s decisions took him. He had no role to play in the coming conflict. In all matters of state, he remained little more than a figurehead. Thersyn was confident that it would all end in tears, that Walser would not bend to the whims of a man like Welt.

    Welt snatched it from his hands and held it close to his chest.

    ¡°I¡¯m disappointed. I had hoped that you would see the reasoning behind my actions and choose to join us.¡±

    ¡°Do not pretend to respect me whilst attempting to minimize my choices. I hope for your sake that we do not descend back into those hellish days once more.¡±

    Thersyn turned and stomped away, preventing Welt from having the final word. He looked down at the crown clutched between his spindly fingers and traced the intricate details. He had admired the crown from afar for most of his adult life, yet he did not feel any joy in holding it at that moment.

    A disconcerting voice in the back of his mind started to rear its ugly head. What if this was the way he felt when he succeeded in his plan? Getting what he wanted yet being no closer to the fulfilment he sought? Welt stamped it down. There was no room for doubt. The plan was in motion. A new King would be crowned right away, and the changes he desired would be instituted.

    This was not destruction ¨C it was renewal.

 Chapter 143

    I had to be alert. The rumours I had injected into the discourse around the academy swirled on with or without my direct attention, evolving and changing with each mouth that uttered the words they¡¯d heard from another. Talia was one of the few people who knew that I was responsible for spreading the fake story. She cooperated gladly if it would allow us to escape the school and the danger it presented.

    The worst possible outcome was me being away from the scene when it all boiled over. I had to put my finger on the scale and keep a close eye on how the debate developed between Welt¡¯s men. Darin struck me as the sort to doubt whatever disinformation I was spreading, but the man I¡¯d met the day before, Koch, was far more panicked.

    Walking back and forth and trying not to make myself look conspicuous was exhausting. I mainly lurked by the Principal¡¯s office and the area between the two buildings, deftly evading teachers and students and keeping a firm grip on the sightlines that cut across the large gardens.

    When I saw Darin, Koch and three others approaching the building at noon ¨C I knew that my rumours had finally reached their ears. I silently pursued them back up the stairs and onto the second floor where the Principal resided. The door was left ajar when I got there, but the confrontation spilt back out into the hallway all of a sudden.

    The Principal was being grabbed by Koch. He tugged and pulled on the front of his shirt, attempting to extract him from the building entirely. Darin was putting his body in the way to try and stop him.

    ¡°Koch! Cool it!¡±

    He finally succeeded in wrenching Koch¡¯s arms free and releasing the Principal.

    ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯s name is all this about?¡± he blustered.

    ¡°You¡¯re a bloody rat bastard!¡± Koch seethed, ¡°I should have known that you¡¯d try to screw us over!¡±

    Darin¡¯s face creased into a mask of concern. He turned to the Principal.

    ¡°Did you send a letter to the police?¡±

    The Principal emphatically shook his head; ¡°I can assure you that we have stuck to our end of the arrangement. None of the staff have so much as spoken a word of this matter to the students, never mind leaving the premises and speaking with the police.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes. My primary concern has always been the safety of the students.¡±

    Koch sneered, ¡°Nothin¡¯ would be safer than running to the police and getting us all locked up. It¡¯s a good thing that Welt said we¡¯d get pardoned when he takes over.¡±

    ¡°You and I both know that turning the campus into a battlefield is the very last idea on my mind. I made my position clear during our first meeting. I don¡¯t want any guns being fired, no matter what happens.¡±

    As if to throw a lit match into the bonfire ¨C one of the students who had stumbled across the argument offered a suggestion that was precision designed to piss Koch off and start the fighting all over again. It was a boy from two years above me.

    ¡°If you¡¯re so afraid of getting caught, why are you even here? Just run away!¡±

    Koch immediately squared his shoulders and attempted to march up into his face, seemingly to punch his teeth out for suggesting such an idea, but Darin stepped in and grabbed his shoulder. He pulled him away before he could escalate the situation any further.

    ¡°Koch, cool your head! What the hell is wrong with you? Picking fights with a bunch of kids!¡±

    ¡°If the staff didn¡¯t do it ¨C then it was one of them. I bet they even had something to do with what happened to-¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know that,¡± Darin snapped harshly, ¡°You¡¯ve made up this bloody story in your head, whole cloth, and are trying to find anything that supports your paranoia! I¡¯ve had enough of this. We¡¯ve been here two days and you¡¯ve lost your bloody marbles after the first. All we had to do was stand here and keep watch for a week!¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re not proactive enough with this, who else is going to die?¡± he sputtered.

    ¡°You were saying that it was divine punishment a few hours ago! You can¡¯t say that it was the Goddess and then turn around to start accusing the bloody students of doing it! Go find a quiet room and pray in it ¨C and leave the talking to me, you knobhead!¡±

    Koch was not going to abide by harsh words. He lashed out and struck Darin across the cheek with a shallow punch. Darin retaliated in kind, wrapping his arms around his stomach and wrestling him to the floor in a flurry of arms and legs. The scuffle cleared the corridor, as both the residents and their fellow conspirators got the hell out of their way.

    Darin was the one on top. He rained down several more blows from above, forcing Koch to adopt a defensive stance with his arms held up to cover his face. He held back from launching the last one, his arm dropping limp by his side. Why was he even having this fight, with a man who was supposedly one of his friends?

    He dismounted Koch, who finally released his guard and stared up at him from his feet.

    ¡°Get it together,¡± Darin concluded, ¡°This isn¡¯t a complex job. All we have to do is keep an eye on the wall for a few days.¡±

    His eyes scanned the small crowd of observers and settled on me, arms crossed, with a wry smirk on my lips. Normally I would keep my head down and avoid standing out ¨C but they were finished with their fight, and I needed to keep the ball rolling somehow. Making myself public enemy number one was the next best approach.

    There was that look of dawning realization that I was hoping for. I ducked away through the crowd and moved to a quiet spot in the building, egging them on to come and chase me. Judging by the footsteps that followed me the whole way, at least three of them were now in pursuit.

    ¡°Hey! Stop right there!¡±

    I did as Darin commanded and came to a halt inside of a neglected corridor that cut by several disused offices. He was red in the face and flustered by what was going on. The fight with Koch did not help matters. Koch was hanging back with the other goon having been humiliated in that engagement.

    ¡°I should have guessed that you¡¯d have something to do with this. I thought you were all talk ¨C but you¡¯ve been busy trying to make my life difficult.¡±

    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about, sir.¡±

    ¡°Kids can be disobedient. You were the one who came up with this plan to get a message to the police. You¡¯re going to tell us whether you succeeded or not.¡±

    ¡°What does it matter? Aren¡¯t they going to ¡®pardon¡¯ you when you complete this job? It¡¯s very strange that suddenly you are so concerned about the legal consequences of what is happening here.¡±

    Darin¡¯s mouth thinned.

    ¡°Unless... you already understand the truth of the matter. You are nothing more than a pack of convenient tools for Gerard Verner Welt to use and throw away at his whim. Noble luminaries such as him can¡¯t be seen getting their hands dirty ¨C so they throw a collection of reprobates and ideologues into the fire to do it for them.¡±

    ¡°How the hell do you know about that?¡±

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°I know a lot of things, but the most important question on my mind at this moment is how much you are willing to risk. Will you tough it out and remain here as the threat looms, for his sake, or will you cut your losses and go home instead?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re in this for the long haul,¡± he insisted weakly, ¡°We¡¯re already here. We¡¯re not dropping our guns and going home. Welt wanted us to do this.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s about personal loyalty? Or is Welt proposing a vision of this nation that appeals to you?¡±

    ¡°Both. He¡¯s going to get our pride back.¡±

    ¡°Pride is worthless,¡± I scoffed, ¡°What good has pride ever done for you? Do you find solace in returning home to a small house that lets the cold in, so long as it stands within the borders of this nation? There will be benefits to restoring the monarchy, for those positioned to exploit it with wealth and influence, but not for you.¡±

    ¡°None of that matters. Walser used to be the strongest ¨C but now everyone wants a piece of us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to say, but you are simply incorrect. It¡¯s false. Walser is the envy of the world. It is the greatest industrial powerhouse on the continent, with the largest population, and most extensive railway network, with sciences and culture that far outstrip our competitors. After the Compromise was signed, every other nation followed in our wake and adopted a similar system of government.¡±

    Koch pushed his way to the front, ¡°Darin ¨C you¡¯re letting her distract you! We need to know if she spoke to the police!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s so, so easy for know-nothing blowhards like Welt to stand on their ivory tower and claim to have the solutions to all of your worldly problems. Everything will be better if you simply allow him to do as he pleases, and you needn¡¯t worry about how he will deliver on those promises. The world is more complicated than that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m done listening to this,¡± Koch complained, ¡°Tell us what you did.¡±

    ¡°Why would I do that? This ambiguity serves my purposes perfectly well.¡±

    Darin gently pushed Koch back with his palm.

    ¡°That¡¯s your game, then? It¡¯s pretty obvious to me that you didn¡¯t manage to send any kind of communication out of this place. I¡¯ve had men watching every exit since we arrived ¨C and none of them have seen you.¡±

    ¡°Is that¡¯s what you want to believe, then by all means, you are free to do so. All I can say is that there are more ways out of this campus than using one of the prescribed entrances or exits. The wall itself is full of vulnerabilities if you know where to look.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bluff. She wants us to think that the police are on the way.¡±

    Koch was not convinced, ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s just a kid. They¡¯re good at making up stories, but won¡¯t do anything too risky if they can help it.¡±

    I laughed, ¡°Then you should cross your fingers and hope that no more unfortunate ¡®accidents¡¯ befall your friends. The police might take you alive in a siege ¨C but I cannot say the same for the menacing grip of karma.¡±

    Koch¡¯s face fell like a stone. Darin was unable to hold him back with one hand when he pushed his way past and got up into my face.

    ¡°Say that again, lass.¡±

    ¡°I thought it was clear enough the first time. Rotten men meet rotten ends, like your miserable compatriot who is acting as rat bait in the basement as we speak.¡±

    Koch¡¯s fury could not be contained. He roared in anger and drew the pistol from his belt, holding it close enough to my forehead that I could smell the iron it was made from. I didn¡¯t flinch.

    ¡°So very emotional!¡±

    I pointed my finger at Koch¡¯s gun and snapped. The latch holding the magazine in place was dissolved with a burse of high-energy magic, causing it to slide free from the well and limply drop to the floor with a clatter. He looked down at it, stunned at the ¡®mysterious¡¯ malfunction that rendered his gun unusable.

    ¡°It¡¯s very rude to draw a gun during a discussion, Mister Koch.¡±

    ¡°What the hell did you do?¡± he murmured.

    I crossed my arms, ¡°A highly concentrated burst of magical energy, localized in a small area, is enough to break the bonds between the molecules in your firearm and render it inoperable. A very unique school of magic that they don¡¯t teach for fear of the consequences. It¡¯s gone. Reduced to dust.¡±

    Koch stared at me, and his face twisted as the grim implication of what I had just done finally emerged from the depths of his boundless rage.

    ¡°It¡¯s rather effective. It destroys whatever I wish and leaves no trace whatsoever! So long as it is within my reach, I can annihilate it. It works on organic materials too. I could even go so far as to rupture an artery or valve in your heart...¡±

    The air turned cold. I paused for emphasis before delivering the coup de grace.

    ¡°...and it would appear as nothing more than a ¡®random¡¯ cardiac arrest.¡±

    There were gasps and appalled murmurings. Koch was struck physically by my words ¨C staggering back behind where Darin was standing. There was a moment of unease when the three men confronting me were unsure of what to do next. It was an absurd situation to find themselves in. A young girl was alleging that she killed one of their friends.

    Darin stared at me. He chewed on the story I was selling him. What was he weighing up inside of his head? Was he seeking some type of tell in the way I glared back, hoping that I would wave my hands and declare that it was all a joke, a bluff, intended to make them leave the campus?

    I wasn¡¯t going to budge. This was my big play. I played it up to rattle them, holding out my arms and speaking dramatically.

    ¡°Did I kill your friend? Did I succeed in sending a message to the outside? Will Welt pardon you when this is all said and done? So much uncertainty! If I were a betting person, I wouldn¡¯t fancy my chances of winning three coin-tosses in a row.¡±

    Darin took the obvious route; ¡°What a load of crap. You expect me to believe you killed him? You¡¯re just a teenager.¡±

    ¡°It would be hard to accept if it were coming from a normal child, but you already know that noble society is cutthroat at the best of times. Everyone here is scheming in their own way, and they would be happy to damn themselves if it meant securing their success and legacy.¡±

    ¡°No. That isn¡¯t true. It can¡¯t be.¡±

    The nameless one behind them rushed to draw his gun in a show of force, but once again I snapped my fingers and completely destroyed the internal mechanism, causing the slide to come apart when he tried to load a road into the chamber. It all crumbled into a pile of discarded pieces on the floor at his feet.

    ¡°I already warned you about your manners,¡± I said dryly, ¡°The next time I will not simply disassemble those brutish weapons. I will choose to rupture those vulnerable organs instead.¡±

    Koch finally found the balls he had misplaced during his crisis of faith and charged at me with a roar. Darian couldn¡¯t hold him back this time, though he was about to wish that he had. I stepped deftly, moving back just enough to give him a false sense of security, but in truth, I was trying to trip him up with a firm kick to one of his shins.

    At the same time, I reached out while dodging his attempts to grab me, and hooked my arm under one of his shoulders. I spun him around - dragging him down into a kneeling position as we went and shoving the sharp end of my knee onto the back of his neck.

    To further belabour the point, I also pressed the deadly end of my pistol against the back of his skull and released the safety. Darin¡¯s face was indescribable. I was pushing one of his men into the carpeted floor and threatening to blow his brains out while I was at it.

    ¡°When you were so afraid of divine punishment ¨C you should not have been turning your eyes to the stars. You should have been looking at me.¡±

    Koch raged under my heel, ¡°You bitch! I knew you did it! You bloody well killed him, didn¡¯t you?!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have to answer that. Now stop moving before my finger slips.¡±

    I pushed it hard into his head, and the cold bite of the metal was enough to alarm him into silence. This was a big risk. I wanted to wrap this confrontation up before one of the students came running to see what the noise was.

    ¡°I think she¡¯s serious,¡± the unnamed goon whispered into Darin¡¯s ear.

    Taking down an adult man and keeping him at gunpoint was much more difficult than escaping the blockade and sending a letter. That was the exact thought process running through their heads at that moment.

    ¡°What the hell are you two hesitating for?¡± Koch growled, ¡°We¡¯re all in this together! We¡¯re not going to get what we want if you two stand there and let her do this! Grab her!¡±

    I laughed, ¡°You really don¡¯t understand, do you? This game is already over. Your friends are too kind-hearted to let you die here.¡±

    ¡°Shut up! We¡¯ll get you, as soon as you let me go, it¡¯ll be over for you!¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t win that fight, not when you¡¯ve already underestimated me like this. None of you have weapons. None of you are even willing to sacrifice one another to win.¡±

    I pocketed my gun and pushed him away, sending him staggering into the arms of his compatriots. It was messy. Not the way I¡¯d planned to see all of this go down, but the effect was the same. I couldn¡¯t risk shooting him and blowing my cover for the rest of my second life.

    ¡°Welt didn¡¯t tell us about this bullshit. He said it¡¯d be easy...¡± Darin murmured.

    ¡°They¡¯ve had bloody government agents here the whole time?¡± The other man worried.

    Koch shook his head, ¡°We¡¯re tryin¡¯ to change the world here! If you thought it¡¯d be easy, that¡¯s your fault!¡±

    ¡°Go home!¡± I snapped.

    Darin tugged on Koch¡¯s shoulder and shook his head, ¡°Leave her. Welt wants Walston-Carter on a short leash. There''ll be hell to pay if his daughter bites it.¡±

    Koch was remiss to leave without having the final word, but without a gun, and knowing that I had the only working one in the area, he was forced to go along with whatever Darin said for fear of ending up with a new hole to breathe through. They scampered away, brow-beaten and unsure of what the future had in store for them.

    I knew what was going to happen here. That dogmatic response to the facts I gave them indicated that it was all a waste of time. Darin and Koch were still of one mind when it came to supporting Welt¡¯s efforts ¨C and having someone to blame for what was going wrong would potentially ease the fault lines that had formed between them during their stay.

    An uneasy frown settled on my features. I was starting to feel that I overplayed my hand. Too much, too early, too fast. I was in a hurry to get out of here and stop Welt before he accidentally transformed the entire continent into a burning hellscape, and it was rattling me.

    Every second I was wasting dealing with them was another that Welt could use to get the upper hand. If they didn¡¯t leave then I¡¯d have to use the nuclear option and really put the hurt on them.

    The deadline wasn¡¯t for me ¨C it was for them.

 Chapter 144

    I couldn¡¯t sleep.

    The encounter with Darin and Koch was feeling like more and more of a mistake the further it drew in the rear-view mirror. I shouldn¡¯t have shown my hand in such a blatant way. I was hoping that Koch¡¯s irrationality would lead to a stronger divide between him and Darin, but he made his mind up and concluded that I was the one to blame for everything, not Durandia.

    Regret was the emotion I always felt the most. Sadness, anger, happiness, joy ¨C those were all secondary to regret. I spent a lot of my free time worrying about what I could have done differently, imagining scenarios where everyone acted exactly as I predicted and all of my plans were perfect in conception and execution.

    It was the rawest expression of my toxic egotism. Life would be so much easier if everyone did what I wanted them to! Maria¡¯s spoilt character was bleeding into my own personality, maybe that was why I adapted so naturally to being her once I arrived at the academy.

    The biggest problem in my life was the slow removal of my trump cards. People around me were starting to figure me out, solve the puzzle, and that meant it was more difficult to manipulate them. The circumstances became more pressing and my identity became harder to keep under wraps.

    Durandia had chained me to a rock and started picking out my innards with a flock of buzzards. I was repeating the same mistake over and over, unable to change course. I stared at the ceiling and felt the anxiety gnawing at me. It was maddening. What the hell was Welt doing while I was stuck here?

    The sound was so quiet that I almost missed it, but a piece of paper was slid beneath my door. I turned to face it, hopping out of bed and trying to unlock it before the culprit got away. Unfortunately, they were long gone. I scowled and picked it up. It was a single scrap of paper folded in two, and marked with messy handwriting.

    ¡°I have Samantha ¨C meet me by the workshed.¡±

    I re-read it five times until it made sense.

    There was that sinking feeling again.

    I turned on autopilot and allowed it to drive my actions. I moved to the wardrobe and retrieved my gun, a pair of shoes, and a thick coat to keep the cold away. Creeping through the corridors this late at night was a good way to get collared by one of the dorm managers ¨C but they were occupied looking out for any intruders.

    I headed down to the garden using my normal route, relying entirely on the few lanterns that decorated the surrounding buildings to guide me through the darkness. It was cold for a summer night. The work shed was not usually lit during the night, but a single lantern was now hanging from the timber frame that held up the front canopy.

    I drew my gun and kept it tucked into one of my pockets. My finger played with the safety as I stalked around the building in search of the person who had supposedly taken my ¡®friend¡¯ hostage. There was no sign of them inside of the shack. I moved further afield.

    I saw a pair of figures, their frames silhouetted against the shimmering water of the nearby pound. As soon as my eyes locked onto them ¨C the one on the left ignited another lantern and held it up into the air. His other hand held a pistol, pressed against the side of Samantha¡¯s head. The distress on her face was plain as day.

    ¡°Koch,¡± I murmured. He was a cock alright...

    ¡°So you really did decide to come and help your friend. That¡¯s a shock.¡±

    Samantha closed her eyes and whispered under her breath.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t get your friends to come and join this plan?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need them for this,¡± he blustered, ¡°This is between you and me, and Darin and I never saw eye-to-eye anyway.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s more reasonable than you.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about Darin. I told him that we needed to take drastic action to stop you from causing any more trouble ¨C but he¡¯s still too stuck in the mud to threaten the staff or students.¡±

    Koch had that madness in his eyes. Samantha¡¯s distress was there ¨C but there was something about this situation that I was missing. I could tell that there was an aspect to the standoff that I hadn¡¯t considered.

    ¡°If you¡¯re mad enough to kill, you¡¯re mad enough to try and call the police out here. That¡¯s what I think.¡±

    ¡°And you decided to stay here and not flee?¡±

    ¡°Darin didn¡¯t buy it, besides, I was the one who said that we couldn¡¯t make a difference without taking risks. This is it. The big play! I¡¯ve been waiting my whole life to see this through.¡±

    ¡°Look where it brought you, holding a gun to the head of a teenage girl. Some cause that must be.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about the methods, it¡¯s about the outcome.¡±

    I scowled, ¡°What a load of rubbish. The ¡®ends justifying the means¡¯ is a clich¨¦ that people tell themselves when they know the cause is rotten. The means inform the goals. It speaks to your values and beliefs.¡±

    ¡°Where do you stand saying that type of stuff after murdering my friend?¡±

    ¡°What do you think? I¡¯m rotten to the core, and my achievements are seemingly never for the betterment of anyone.¡±

    Koch was confused about that. If I was so concerned about the outcome of my actions, why was I even here? He didn¡¯t understand my motivation, my desperate, selfish drive to carry on for one more day. I was Durandia¡¯s tool ¨C brought here for a violent purpose, and I would not be permitted to stand aside while the world burned.

    ¡°You¡¯re the second damned coming of the Black Lady, I swear down on it.¡±

    ¡°That is merely a fairy tale, used to scare children when they¡¯re misbehaving.¡±

    ¡°Then your parents would have been served well by informing you. Only the Goddess knows how a hellspawn like yourself came to be, rotten from birth and putrid in adolescence. I can see it in you.¡±

    We were getting nowhere fast. We stared each other down under the low, yellowed light of the lantern, illuminating a small circle at the edge of the water and allowing the surrounding trees to cast long, stark shadows.

    ¡°This is your final chance to give it up. You already know that I can stop your heart with a snap of my finger.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t relent in the face of evil!¡± Koch spat, ¡°And I will not allow you to exploit my weariness once again. The moment you move those hands is the second I pull this trigger.¡±

    Samantha opened her eyes again and looked at me. I couldn¡¯t read what she was trying to say through her silence. This was an impossible situation to navigate. I didn¡¯t even know what Koch wanted from me.

    ¡°Are you going to try and kill me? I don¡¯t understand why kidnapping her will help you do that.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s just bait ¨C to get you out here.¡±

    ¡°It worked. Here I am. Now tell me what you want.¡±

    He had to hold on to Samantha, and he could not risk letting me move my hands to cast my magic either. He would have to be the one to make the first move. It was entirely possible that Koch had not considered the dilemma he found himself in. Much like me, a plan was created that ran headlong into a fundamental problem from the first second it was put into action.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be the one who takes care of you.¡±

    ¡°You think you have the balls to do that?¡±

    The crass words shocked him. Were they really coming from the lips of a coddled noble girl? He set his brow firmly and nodded.

    ¡°I do, and I can.¡±

    ¡°If you let her go, I won¡¯t do or say anything. It¡¯ll be like this never happened.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good deal ¨C right now you can¡¯t even hope to stop me. You have to keep that gun trained on her to keep me at bay, but you can¡¯t kill me without it.¡±

    I was staking everything on my rhetoric, which was a bad place to be when dealing with a man who had bounded so rapidly between reason and madness over the past few days. This standoff would continue until he got bored or pulled the trigger and threw a wrench into Durandia¡¯s plans.

    The tension built and built and built. We stared at each other ¨C doing nothing but exhaling condensed breath into the cool evening air. I was not going to kill myself because he wanted me to. He only had one gun to point. I had to stay focused on him. Stay focused. Stay focused.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    His eyes flickered to the left for the briefest of moments.

    I spun around and pulled the gun from my pocket. A gunshot rang out, a flash in the night coming from behind a nearby tree. It ripped through my left thigh and made my blood scatter into the perfectly trimmed grass. While I was falling, I aimed as best I could and shot back at his compatriot, ripping through the thin wooden trunk and hitting him with the shrapnel.

    He cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Koch sensed his opportunity while I tried to get back up and move with one leg. Putting pressure on my wounded leg sent a bolt of lightning up my spine.

    ¡°Son of a bitch!¡±

    He was running at me. Koch had left Samantha lying on the ground to try and finish the job. The stress of the situation, compounded with everything else that was happening, led to what could best be described as a furious, violent outburst.

    Through all of those ordeals, I tried my best to maintain my character. Keep the accent. Keep my cool. Stop my face from creasing. This was different. In that instant I could feel the furnace in my chest igniting with a white-hot flash of anger that eclipsed my good senses. Samantha was lying right there, but she didn¡¯t factor into what I did next.

    Koch was already upon me, trying to bludgeon me to death with a wooden cudgel he¡¯d brought with him. I tucked my shoulder down and pushed him over my torso to try and flip him over my back. The sheer weight of an adult man crashing into me meant that we both ended up being wiped out and crashed onto the ground with a heavy thud as he pulled me back with him.

    Samantha was witness to a messy and violent scramble as we tussled for position. He swung at me with the wooden blunt ¨C but I kept my head out of the way and retaliated with the butt of my gun. I couldn¡¯t get a clear shot on him, nor could I focus my senses in this state and explode an artery in his chest.

    It only took one good swing to change the tide of the fight. I clattered Koch on the side of the head and disorientated him. He rolled off of me and tried to crawl away. I used my one good leg to leap after him and push him down into the dirt.

    ¡°Stupid piece of goddamn shit! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!¡±

    I grabbed his cudgel and used it for my own purposes. I punctuated each word with another brutal blow, cracking bone and swelling flesh, transforming his face into an indescribable mess of shallow cuts and bloody streams.

    ¡°You could have chosen the easy way out, you stupid piece of shit!¡± I seethed, ¡°I gave you every chance to get out of here, but you keep! Fucking! Wasting! It!¡±

    Samantha was so shocked by the incredibly gory scenes that she hesitated to run in and stop me. The sounds became more gruesome by the second as I chipped away at the different layers of skin, blood and bone. Her revulsion eventually became too much to ignore.

    ¡°Maria! Maria!¡±

    Samantha charged at me, pulling back on my shoulders and stopping me from coming down on his skull with another blow. My shirt was covered with drops of blood, staining the pristine silk. My hands and face were also marred with more bloody marks. We staggered back, away from Koch¡¯s prone body, and fell onto the floor in a heap. My leg was crying out in agony.

    I was so enraged that I lashed out at her, trying to wrestle free and continue turning his face into a piece of blood-soaked cauliflower.

    ¡°Let go of me!¡± I demanded.

    ¡°You¡¯re going too far! What the heck are you doing?¡± she cried.

    ¡°He¡¯s tried to kill you! He¡¯s tried to kill me! Why are you stopping me?¡± I yelped.

    I was flustered, covered in blood and dirt, with a look in my eye that Samantha had never seen before. I was always composed and in control. I held all the cards and kept my cool, yet here I was losing my rag and beating the guy to death with a wooden stick and bared teeth. It was the very first time that Samantha saw the ¡®real¡¯ me.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t loaded,¡± she panted, ¡°He told me it wasn¡¯t loaded...¡±

    The gun that lay by his prone figure was empty. The magazine well was clear. A combination of that revelation and the pain caused me to double over and clutch my thigh. His bastard friend had ripped a large chunk of flesh out of me, and potentially fractured one of my bones.

    Samantha reached over and pushed my hands away, ¡°Let me fix it. I can fix this.¡±

    There was a strange sensation running through the wound. Samantha activated her restorative magic, expelling a huge amount of energy to pull the separated tissues back together again. What I could see beneath the blood was my flesh being knitted back together, leaving a small scar in its wake.

    ¡°There are still fragments in there. We have to get you to a surgeon and remove them.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t listening. I hobbled back to my feet, still feeling the aftereffects of the bullet going through my thigh. I could tell that there was shrapnel inside, rubbing up against something it shouldn¡¯t, but there was no time to go find a surgeon to extract each and every piece of it. We needed to leave before they came to investigate the noise.

    Samantha was hot on my heels, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? Maria! I¡¯ve never seen you do anything like that before!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡±

    ¡°Answer me! For goodness sake! You always do this, you never tell me anything!¡±

    Maybe it was the delirium settling in after getting shot, or maybe this had been building up over the past few months as I tried to delicately navigate the secrets and truths I dispensed to Samantha and the others. I was tired of being delicate.

    ¡°Maria isn¡¯t fucking real!¡± I roared on impulse.

    My admission cut through the chaos like a knife. Samantha released me and stepped back. All of the anger was replaced with confusion. Samantha stared at me as if I¡¯d grown a second head. I took a deep breath and twisted my neck to the side to try and release some of the tension.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± she asked, ¡°What does that even mean?¡±

    I was too deep to walk it back now. I dropped my accent fully, returning to my old American drawl.

    ¡°What do you think it means? You always kept asking me what Durandia¡¯s other blessing was, that big secret I was keeping. Ask yourself ¨C how do you think that a pampered, noble girl learned how to do all of this stuff without anyone finding out? It doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡±

    Samantha didn¡¯t get what I was saying. She just shook her head.

    ¡°Then let me spell it out for you. Maria isn¡¯t real, she never was. All of that history and meaning, it was never real. Maria isn¡¯t real. She¡¯s isn¡¯t real!¡±

    ¡°Y-You¡¯re standing right in front of me!¡±

    I pointed to Koch¡¯s body, ¡°This! This is what Durandia brought me here to do! She wanted a killer ¨C so she found one. Took my mind and threw me into a convenient puppet she had ready, just for me.¡±

    Samantha finally connected all of the dots. The things I told her, the way I behaved, and my cynical perspective on Durandia¡¯s actions.

    ¡°You¡¯re... there¡¯s no way that¡¯s true. You¡¯re madder than a bag of cats right now!¡±

    She continued to chase me up the garden until we reached the greenhouse. I could hear voices moving back the way we came, presumably some of the men watching the wall were spreading the news.

    ¡°You have to explain this to me. I don¡¯t get what you¡¯re on about!¡± Samantha pleaded.

    ¡°I already told you,¡± I said, slipping back into my high-class accent, ¡°Durandia brought me here. I¡¯m not a thirteen-year-old girl, far from it.¡±

    ¡°Who are you supposed to be?¡±

    I glanced at her, ¡°Dead.¡±

    She paused.

    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be dead. I died. I got shot, gunned down, whatever you want to call it. That was why she snatched my soul and brought me here ¨C so I could do some good for once before she gets tired of playing with me.¡±

    ¡°She wouldn¡¯t do something that horrible.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m her sacrificial lamb. Once this is all over with, she¡¯ll polish me off and tie up all those loose ends. Why the hell do you think I spent so much time and effort trying to keep you and the others out of the way? I don¡¯t want to drag you into this!¡±

    Samantha bit her bottom lip; ¡°So... that was the truth. You really meant all of that?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t act like there¡¯s something redeemable here, Sam. I only did that because of my stupid pride, thinking that I could earn some redemption for doing the bare minimum. It¡¯s a little too late to worry about that after I spent two decades killing people for money.¡±

    I kicked the ground with my good leg and turned away, looking up to the cloudy sky.

    ¡°Is that what you want to hear, you goddamn bitch? I admit it! This is on me. It¡¯s all on me for believing that there was a second chance buried here somewhere. What the hell was I doing?¡±

    She was listening. She had to be.

    ¡°Maria, you have to calm down, you¡¯re losing it.¡±

    Samantha was right. All of this was stupid. I¡¯d just spilled the big secret that I was trying to keep from her all this time, and brutally murdered a man she felt some small sympathy for while I was at it. He deserved it for trying to kill me ¨C but she didn¡¯t see it that way. His honourable concessions to keeping her safe swayed her heart and fermented a bitter reaction.

    ¡°I¡¯m leaving. I¡¯m going to find Welt and feed him a bullet.¡±

    I was done playing games. I¡¯d lost sight of what made me an effective assassin in the first place. This wasn¡¯t about keeping up appearances or maintaining ¡®Maria¡¯s¡¯ quality of life. She was a disguise, just another set of clothing I¡¯d stolen to blend in like all the rest. I needed guns, ammo, and information about where he was hiding, and I didn¡¯t care who I had to go through to get to him.

    Samantha chased after me, ¡°Wait ¨C don¡¯t go without me!¡±

    ¡°You need to go home.¡±

    She skidded to a halt, ¡°Go home? I thought we were meant to do this together. That¡¯s what the Goddess said!¡±

    I paused and kept my voice low, ¡°Do you think it¡¯s right that Durandia is dragging you into this, anointing you as a saviour, even when it¡¯s this dangerous?¡±

    ¡°How is that any different to you?¡± she sniped back.

    ¡°I told you. I¡¯m already damned. Violence is the language I speak best. I can¡¯t get mad about it when the gun is pointed at me in retaliation. She chose me because she understood what type of person I am. How is it fair to drag you, or Max, or Claude, or Adrian into this?¡±

    Samantha took a straightforward approach in response.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t cause all of these things to happen. Didn¡¯t she... ¡®reincarnate¡¯ you because she wants to stop it?¡±

    I leaned against the outside wall of the building and took a moment to rest; ¡°Sorry ¨C but when she gets kids involved, I can only think that the outcome is going to be bad news.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have a choice. Whatever this trouble is, it¡¯s going to run over all of us like a rolling boulder. We can¡¯t stand back and let it happen because the chaos Welt¡¯s looking for won¡¯t be contained to one place.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like something I¡¯d say.¡±

    She crossed her arms, ¡°I think you did once before, or maybe not - either way ¨C you¡¯ve been a teacher to me in many senses.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°You should have picked a better teacher.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not running away from me this time. We¡¯re in this together. That¡¯s what she told me to do.¡±

    All the anger and worry, and facing the cold reality of what it was like to live in reality. Was that even worth the energy wasted on it? This wasn¡¯t ¡®reality¡¯ at all. At no point during my time in this world did it follow the goddamn rules. I was a goddamn action hero ¨C blasting through hordes of bad guys with a pair of pistols, dismantling wide-reaching conspiracies with my wits and skill.

    I stared at Samantha and she tilted her head to one side, wondering what I was thinking. Bringing her along... she was the main protagonist. She had plot armour. She could walk into a dangerous situation and come out smelling like daisies as long as we didn¡¯t do anything too stupid.

    Was I going about this the wrong way the entire time? Samantha was probably going to be essential to whatever hare-brained scheme Durandia had created by peering into the future. I reconsidered my previous harsh words.

    ¡°You¡¯re willing to go along with this, knowing that I¡¯m a cold-blooded murderer? Knowing that I¡¯ve been lying to you about my identity this entire time, since the first day we met?¡±

    Samantha didn¡¯t hesitate in her assessment. She spoke in the only way she knew how, earnestly and without restraint.

    ¡°Nobody is perfect. I don¡¯t know how I feel about the story you¡¯ve told me ¨C but until now you¡¯ve always done right by me. Choosing between that and letting Welt do what he likes, the choice is pretty easy to make.¡±

    I pinched the bridge of my nose; ¡°Fine. You can tag along, but the moment we get put into a situation where you have to pick your own safety or mine, you throw me to the wolves the first chance you get.¡±

    Samantha rolled her eyes, ¡°And you wonder why I keep judging your character positively.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s called ¡®self-loathing,¡¯ not selflessness,¡± I replied.

    We needed to get out of here.

 Chapter 145

    ¡°I thought this was supposed to be the easy part!¡±

    A group of men were assembled by the shed at the very crack of dawn. The darkness banished by the rising sun revealed a grisly scene. Two dead men. One shot through the chest after trying to take cover behind a thin tree, and the second beaten into an unrecognizable mess by his own bludgeon.

    Darin already knew who it was though. Koch had screamed in his face the night before and boldly declared that he was going to be the one to solve their problem. Darin pushed back ¨C saying that it was too late to stop the police from arriving if Maria had already contacted them.

    He didn¡¯t listen. He found a like-minded companion in Jonas and concocted a plan to try and kill her in retaliation. Darin was worried about the moral maelstrom caused by killing a young girl, but his concern was being placed with the wrong party from the start. Koch and Jonas were dead.

    He knelt down next to Koch¡¯s body and took his gun, inspecting it. The magazine well was empty and there was no sign of it being dropped in the fight. It was never even loaded in the first place.

    ¡°You idiot,¡± he growled, ¡°You didn¡¯t even bring a loaded gun?¡±

    ¡°Jonas had one. He used some of his rounds, I think,¡± Otis explained.

    ¡°Bloody load of good that did them! He got a shot on their back and still bit it?¡±

    Otis shrugged, ¡°Ripped right through that tree. Shrapnel hit him in the chest. No coming back from that.¡±

    Darin punched the ground lightly with his knuckles, kicking up grass and dirt. This was bad. Real bad. He was on the fence about how serious Maria was when dispensing her threats ¨C but the proof was in the pudding. She must have been the one who took out Koch and Jonas. She wasn¡¯t bluffing. How much of what she said the day before was a lie?

    It was bleak. She could have found a way to sneak a message out of the campus. The walls were extensive but not insurmountable. Finding a ladder and dodging the metal spikes, or even sneaking through one of the doors, was not an impossible task if she was willing to kill to get her way.

    ¡°Either Welt didn¡¯t know about any of this or he¡¯s trying to screw us,¡± Darin murmured.

    ¡°You think he knew about a murderous teenager at this school?¡±

    ¡°He seems to know everything bloody else!¡± Darin said witheringly, ¡°It¡¯s just like him to hide the most vital bit. Doesn¡¯t want to give anything away when the cards are down.¡±

    ¡°What should we do with these two?¡±

    ¡°Get something to cover his face. I don¡¯t want ¡®em seeing him like this. We¡¯ll...¡±

    Darin paused, and the group of men froze along with him, waiting with bated breath to see what his final order would be on the matter. There was a sense of inevitability to the words he was about to speak. It made him feel sick to his stomach, guilt bundling up into a tight ball.

    ¡°...We¡¯ll pack it up and go. I¡¯m not risking having the police come by. They might have heard the gunshots.¡±

    Otis asked the obvious question; ¡°But we¡¯ve lost three blokes. Don¡¯t you want to get some payback?¡±

    Darin stood and faced him down with a sober look, ¡°Don¡¯t make the mistake of getting pulled into a war with someone when you¡¯ve got more to lose. How do you reckon we do that before the police show? We¡¯d be playing ourselves by trying it. It won¡¯t be three of us dead - it¡¯ll be all of us in the bloody clink.¡±

    Darin was stating the plainly obvious to the older men in their group. They grew up in rough neighbourhoods where a thirst for violence and revenge in turn consumed many lives before they hit their prime. Maria had gotten them exactly where she wanted them, there was no doubt about that.

    ¡°Koch wanted to make a difference. He was willing to put it all on the line, but are you?¡±

    There was a collection of faces that had no interest in joining Koch in the grave. At the least, they wanted to see the future Walser they were fighting for. Koch¡¯s dogmatic approach to making it happen was unique. None of them had been radicalized to the same extent that he was. It was a tragic end to a life that gave him nowhere to go.

    No one objected after that. They picked up the bodies and silently hauled them back to the old schoolhouse so they could arrange their escape from the campus. The job was too hot, and they weren¡¯t sticking around to get burned any more. Darin hated it ¨C but his first priority was making sure that everyone else got out of there in one piece.

    Welt wouldn¡¯t be happy, but he couldn¡¯t get everything he wanted all the time. There was a friction to the world that he was never willing to accept. The thought of other people having their own wants and priorities enraged him. He saw them as pawns to move on the board, or feckless lackeys who submitted to his whims without question.

    Maria was right about that. Darin and the others knew what type of man Welt was, but they believed in his vision regardless. Making strange bedfellows was how change came about. He was a nobleman and politician, their alliance was uneasy from the start, but Welt needed dedicated men and women who were ready to do the hard work.

    Welt declared that this leg of the plan was load-bearing and that the outcome wouldn¡¯t be certain without it. That was his ego talking. He thought that nobles like him were principled enough to stand up and fight back when things were going to hell. The reality was very different. They were craven.

    They would go in whatever direction the wind was blowing, loyalties be damned.

    <hr>

    For all of their efforts to beat a hasty retreat without anyone spotting them, it was plainly obvious to everyone with a working pair of eyes that the men holding us hostage had flaked at the slightest possibility of the police arriving and placing the place under siege.

    The blockade was lifted. Darin¡¯s men didn¡¯t think twice about the fact that they weren¡¯t met with a police ambush the moment they left the campus. They scattered into the woods and started the long journey to the nearest town so they could fly the coop. The kitchen got too hot for their liking, so off they went!

    This wasn¡¯t going to be the last of them. Welt was going to his fair share of their blood, sweat and tears. I was not going to show them any mercy when we came face-to-face. It was kill or be killed, and nobody was waiting to hear a sob story with a gun pointed at their head.

    With our newfound freedom came the opportunity to get the hell out of there and head back into the city. It was obvious that all of the trouble was going to start around the theatre and royal palace. It also posed a new problem that I didn¡¯t have a good answer for.

    I didn¡¯t know where to start.

    What was obvious was that Welt wanted to be in close proximity to the Van Walser¡¯s estate and the parliament. It was where the levers of power for the nation rested, but how did they weigh up against his desire to avoid being captured by Veronica and WISA?

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Walser was a big place. He had the money and connections to hide out anywhere he pleased, and this wasn¡¯t an age of being tracked by every gadget and device in the house, and by CCTV cameras on every street corner. A search would have to be performed manually ¨C with boots on the ground and wanted posters on the walls.

    Gertrude would know some rumours, but not where the big man was hiding. Veronica probably had her hands full juggling all of the chaos that he was trying to unleash, and I couldn¡¯t walk up and ask her for information regardless. She wanted to keep me out of the way.

    I was in the dorm packing my things. The school term was going to be suspended again, either due to the recent events with the campus invaders or the upcoming chaos from Welt¡¯s attempted takeover of the nation. Getting a good education was going to be the last thing on most noble¡¯s minds. They were going to pull their kids back home and hole up until the storm blew over.

    Claude, Adrian and Samantha came calling. Max had somehow missed the entire ordeal while waiting at the hospital for news about his brother. They hovered by my door, unsure of whether to step inside and have a candid discussion about what was going on. Samantha seemed especially uneasy. She made a bold assertion about my character the night before, I didn¡¯t believe a word of it.

    That was the face of a person with an emotional hangover. She was second-guessing her own declaration. Had she discounted what I¡¯d said about my real identity as a ploy or a game, or did she accept that the situation was what it was? A crazy theory like that was the only way to square my willingness and ability to kill with Maria¡¯s stated history.

    ¡°Uh. Maria ¨C I thought about what you said and...¡±

    ¡°And?¡± I repeated.

    ¡°...Does that mean that the thing with your Mum is all just a coincidence?¡±

    I paused packing for a second and looked at her.

    ¡°Yes. It is a coincidence.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just saying ¨C I swore down that she was the one who taught you all that stuff.¡±

    ¡°When I said that I had never met her in my entire life before that incident, that was the honest-to-goodness truth. She¡¯s never visited the manor as far as I know. She had me and left me with my Father. I think she was afraid of what would happen if WISA found out.¡±

    Claude and Adrian were pretty lost. They didn¡¯t understand the prior context of what Samantha was asking me.

    ¡°And it¡¯s not something that runs in the family either?¡±

    ¡°How would that even work? Parents don¡¯t pass down their knowledge to their children.¡±

    Samantha shrugged, she thought it sounded like a possibility.

    I turned my eyes to Claude and Adrian, ¡°What do you two want? Say your piece.¡±

    Adrian nodded, ¡°You¡¯re planning on going after Welt, right? I was thinking of tagging along with you.¡±

    ¡°You do not have a good reason to get involved with this,¡± I asserted, ¡°You didn¡¯t like your uncle anyway. He tried to murder you, multiple times!¡±

    Adrian waved it away, ¡°I know! That arsehole¡¯s given me a lot more work to take care of. Besides ¨C I don¡¯t want to be the only one left out.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a bloody field trip, Adrian. The only outcome I can see with this is that it¡¯ll turn to violence whether I¡¯m around to see it or not. Do you want to stand there when the bullets start flying?¡±

    ¡°What are you planning on doing exactly?¡± Claude asked.

    ¡°Seems rather obvious to me. I am going to locate where Gerard Verner Welt is hiding and ensure that his plan does not come to fruition.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to kill him,¡± he replied with an accusatory tone.

    ¡°Probably, if someone else doesn¡¯t get to him first. Do you expect me to be swayed by that kind of moralistic rhetoric? Welt seeks to plunge this entire country into another civil war. I¡¯ll be doing a lot of people a grand favour by making sure it doesn¡¯t happen.¡±

    Claude shook his head, ¡°I really can¡¯t believe that you¡¯re still talking like this. Don¡¯t you ever stop and think about what you¡¯ve done?¡±

    ¡°I normally do all of my thinking before doing any harm,¡± I fired back, ¡°It takes a long period of consideration and planning, and I do my best to ensure that the person on the other end is thoroughly deserving of it.¡±

    ¡°You say that like you¡¯re the one who decides what¡¯s right and wrong. Why don¡¯t you just leave this to the police?¡±

    I slammed the trunk shut and faced him, ¡°I never said I was faultless, and besides ¨C the police consist of men and women who are every bit as prone to bias as I am.¡±

    ¡°But there¡¯s a process.¡±

    ¡°When did you suddenly begin to care about the process? Was it after you ran off at the theatre and got shot in the pelvis? You keep talking about being a detective like in those novels, but you¡¯re the type to chafe against rules and regulations because you believe you know better.¡±

    Samantha clapped her hands together and stopped the argument there before it could proceed any further. She¡¯d figured me out. All of the prickly insults and long-winded philosophical discussions were simply layers of armour I used to keep people away, and the important people out of danger.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough of that, Maria. We¡¯re well past due some honesty here. What are you planning on doing?¡±

    I didn¡¯t have a plan. Welt was already in the process of taking over. I couldn¡¯t find the time to collect information and do my usual process. It would have to be off the cuff and adapt as circumstances changed.

    ¡°My best idea is to find Veronica and ask her very nicely for information about where Welt is hiding.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no way she¡¯s going to tell you that,¡± Sam observed.

    ¡°I said it was my best idea ¨C not that it was a good one. The harsh reality is that this plan is far too great in scope and complexity for me to unfurl on my own. The simplest answer is to decapitate their leadership structure. Welt primarily, but also the other individuals he has recruited to assist in asserting control over Walser¡¯s means of governance.¡±

    Taking down an entire government was the stuff of action movies and explosive video games. That wasn¡¯t going to happen even though I wished my life could be that simple sometimes. I had the inexplicable ability to get out of deadly situations but not the superhuman durability and stamina to run around with two machine guns.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we at least take a break to have your leg taken care of?¡±

    ¡°No time for that now. It¡¯s not that bad anyway.¡±

    It was pretty bad, but it didn¡¯t matter what my opinion on the sharp pain I kept feeling was, or the risk of it becoming dislodged and causing trouble. There was no time for me to go and find a surgeon who was both available and unwilling to ask questions about why I had a mysterious bullet in one of my legs.

    There was going to be an announcement about what would happen at the academy within the hour. Once they figured out what was going on, they would conclude that it was safer to send everyone home to wait until it blew over. That was ideal. I could step away for a while and put a bullet between his eyes, tie it all up with a neat little bow, and maybe earn a stay of execution from Durandia for another few months.

    Before the next disaster struck.

    Despite all that was going on and the scale of the problem, at that moment I was unsure of how this could have possibly been the crisis that Durandia anticipated when she summoned me to this world. It was a human conflict driven by a handful of ambitious men. The only avenue through which I could see the matter rising to a ¡®world-ending disaster¡¯ was the magically enhanced soldier program he created.

    They didn¡¯t have the power to crack continents and kill millions though. Durandia wouldn¡¯t bring my mortal soul through a crack in space and time, inhabit it into a dummy body she¡¯d created using two real people, and then send me out to meddle with it if that wasn¡¯t the case.

    A Goddess would not intervene in her world for anything less. I needed to learn more about the rules that they followed. Durandia and Xenia both alluded to ¡®free will¡¯ being a defining factor in whether they were permitted to intervene. Was there a force at play that existed outside of the normal boundaries that justified this?

    I wasn¡¯t so cynical as to declare that neither of them was doing this for a reason they cared about. Sometimes intelligent beings liked to put their heart into an outcome that didn¡¯t directly benefit them, even though a lot of people would disagree with that assessment.

    Durandia wanted me to save ¡®her¡¯ world, and Xenia was at odds with her for interfering to do so. The real mind-melting loop was considering that Xenia may not have wanted to go any further than speaking with me because of that desire to preserve my free will.

    I was certain that the politics behind it in their world was a complicated subject, and I did not have time to consider the implications fully. I picked up my trunk and hauled it up and onto the bed, ready to go when the Principal dismissed the students and arranged for them to go home.

    I frowned; ¡°Hold on a moment. Claude ¨C your father is a high-ranking police officer.¡±

    ¡°He is,¡± Claude nodded, ¡°What about him?¡±

    ¡°That means he is probably uncomfortably close to all of the chaos unfolding in the capital right now.¡±

    Claude was unperturbed, ¡°How are you so sure that there¡¯s chaos over there?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean ¡®chaos¡¯ as rioting in the streets and firefights happening between the buildings. There¡¯ll be many conflicting parties. The ministers, the royal family, the nobles, the MPs, the police, the military, and WISA. All of them will be trying to assert control or pick the correct side to be on.¡±

    I paused my train of thought.

    ¡°Never mind. I forgot your Mother was back at home.¡±

    Claude glowered, ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°Well ¨C a lot of us are in the absentee slash dead parent club, but I wrong to worry about nobody being there to babysit you when you go back home.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going home!¡± he seethed.

    We''d see about that.

 Chapter 146

    ¡°Any luck on clearing that list?¡±

    Veronica could feel the wrinkles below her eyes getting worse, deeper, etched into her features with a chisel and hammer. Not only had she spent several days running around the country like a chicken with her head cut off, but she had no luck at all! Every single location she visited was either above board or completely empty.

    She had a handful of properties left to search, but the top of her list was an old sanatorium on the coast. It was big, defensible, and close enough to the city that Welt could feasibly move back and forth to pull the strings from inside.

    The problem was that Welt¡¯s plan was already in motion. WISA¡¯s head office was in a complete flurry, with papers and pencils flying and telegrams being sent as they attempted to position themselves between the two emerging sides in the conflict. Welt was not happy about their public relations strategy garnering significant doubt from the people about the border post assault.

    Veronica¡¯s worst projections did not come to pass. A lot of people who read the story also found the full picture puzzling. Why would they launch an assault on a random border post with a dozen men and not a larger invasion with all of the support infrastructure that it demanded? The police assured the public that it was not an international invasion, but a group of opportunistic criminals who still posed a serious threat.

    They were trying to track them down as they spoke, although that project would likely be put on hold as the chaos unfolded in the capital. They would have to focus on keeping the peace instead.

    ¡°None. I have one last building I¡¯d like to search, but I fear it may be too late to do anything now. Welt is going to be pardoned by the King.¡±

    ¡°I hear that he refused to play along. They¡¯ll anoint a successor from a branch family within the day.¡±

    Veronica shook her head; ¡°Are they insane? Nobody is going to accept the legitimacy of an easily manipulated toad plucked from a branch family. It¡¯s almost like they¡¯re trying to cause another civil war.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they are. You should never doubt the unfounded self-confidence of an ambitious man. When you believe you will win easily, even terrible ideas begin to sound appealing.¡±

    The entire agency was in a state of paralysis. Nobody was going to issue orders when so much of the chain of command was being thrown into disarray, and none of the other handlers were as initiative-driven as Frankfort was. She did what she thought was correct first and worried about the consequences later. In her eyes that was what made her a professional - trust in her own decision-making.

    There was a commotion coming from the downstairs lobby. Voices travelled up the main staircase and into the areas where the paper pushers liked to gather. Moments later ¨C a group of armed men burst into the offices with weapons prepared. And who was at the head of this marauding gang? The one and only Bernard Jones, the very same snake who Veronica had been chasing for the past month.

    Veronica groaned, ¡°Looks like I don¡¯t need to worry about finding Bernard anymore. He¡¯s parading himself through the corridors like a preened cockatoo.¡±

    In the chaos of the cubicles and enclosed offices, the man of the hour was marching through the halls with two armed military men on either side. He dipped into each small room in turn and spoke with the occupants before moving on to the next. Within minutes he was upon Frankfort¡¯s ¨C and he pushed through the door to find an irritated field agent and her equally prickly handler.

    ¡°Frankfort, Gladwell.¡±

    ¡°Bernard, where have you been these past few weeks?¡± Frankfort inquired succinctly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to make small talk with you or Veronica,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m the new man in charge of WISA.¡±

    He reached into his jacket and unfurled a bill of appointment ¨C marked and stamped and ready to go. Frankfort could count the number of legitimate articles she¡¯d seen on one hand, and she was the longest-serving handler in the intelligence community. She knew right away that it was real.

    Rather than expressing fear or shock, she leaned back in her chair and laughed. Veronica and Bernard remained still. She was really going for it, slapping her hand against the desk like it was the funniest damn thing she¡¯d ever heard. Veronica had never seen Frankfort laugh before, not like this.

    ¡°Welt put you in charge?¡± she gasped, unable to contain her mirth, ¡°He honestly to goodness put you in charge of WISA? Did he really do that?¡±

    Bernard tried to portray an image of cool, calm control.

    ¡°Not Welt ¨C the King. The restoration act has already been signed. His authority is absolute, and WISA¡¯s position as the personal service of the royal family has been restored with it.¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°Already? You didn¡¯t even bother making a show of it and bringing it into parliament?¡±

    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have voted for it anyway!¡± Bernard replied, not seeing the issue. It was a terribly shoddy plan all around. At least the thin veneer of legitimacy might have kept some of the guns from being pointed in their direction.

    ¡°Spare me the bullshit, Jones ¨C are you here to gloat? Or demand that we go and kill some nobles for you?¡± Frankfort asked.

    Bernard adjusted his tie, ¡°I respect you both very much. I am more than willing to live and let live in regard to our prior incidents. You both represent the values and attitude that every WISA agent should bring with them into the role. A stellar record of dedicated services, with an even-handed, fair, and thorough application of justice no matter the case.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°I will allow you to retain your positions here. That is all.¡±

    Frankfort¡¯s brow rose, ¡°Jones, I don¡¯t hold any particular animosity towards you based on the morgue situation, but don¡¯t you feel like this is a little out of your league? He¡¯s about to throw you to the sharks. I certainly wouldn¡¯t want to be in charge given the changes he¡¯s trying to make.¡±

    ¡°Underestimate me at your own risk. He¡¯s got an excellent handle on all of this. I¡¯ve seen it, and he¡¯s already making moves to make sure that there isn¡¯t a moment of weakness for our enemies to exploit.¡±

    The only thing Frankfort had underestimated was how stupid he was.

    ¡°If you would rather pack up your things and retire, then I can¡¯t stop you.

    Veronica was firm; ¡°We don¡¯t retire. We serve the crown and the public until the day we draw our last breath.¡±

    ¡°I can offer you whatever you want.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t make promises you have no intention of keeping, Jones. You want me on hand to take care of all of your dirty business. Losing a valuable asset like me would be problematic to your position as the new head of office.¡±

    ¡°Then if we¡¯re all on the same page I want a simple answer. Yes or no?¡±

    ¡°Frankfort is being diplomatic, so I will be frank. I would rather shoot myself than ever consider working for you.¡±

    He was already backing away towards the door where his fellow monarchists were waiting in the wings.

    ¡°You need not make the effort, Veronica. We¡¯ll take care of that for you.¡±

    An example needed to be made. The other officers might have fallen in line behind Veronica if she started fighting back and agitating them. Jones ducked out of the way as a flurry of hands drew pistols from pockets and aimed through the doorway.

    ¡°Don¡¯t start a firefight in the office ¨C you damnable rubes!¡± Frankfort barked.

    Jones shrugged it off and shouted back, ¡°This isn¡¯t a firefight! This is your last dance, your retirement party!¡±

    Veronica and Frankfort were outnumbered. None of the other agents in the building were going to step in and they knew it. They were all sitting in their offices and waiting to see what happened. Bernard and his fellow loyalists were in control of the space, and now they were trying to kill them.

    ¡°This is fine. I wanted to shoot that bastard dead anyway!¡± Veronica sneered.

    For all of her fury, this was not a battle that they could win. Neither of them possessed the ammunition necessary to realistically make a dent in their numbers. Frankfort kept a pistol in her drawer that could hold seven rounds and came with two magazines. She would easily waste most of those bullets without hitting anything if the fight was as chaotic as she expected.

    Cornered in the office, the fight started with a riotous volley of gunfire from the inside looking in. Frankfort ducked down and concealed herself behind the desk, while Veronica quickly stepped out of the way so that they couldn¡¯t get a clear angle on where she was standing.

    Frankfort¡¯s small subdivision was ruined, with bullets shredding papers, shattering wood and breaking the windows behind her head. Veronica kept her nerve and studied the clouded glass panes that surrounded the temporary walls, tracking the blobs that moved through them.

    She steadied her aim and fired, cracking a hole through it and sending one of his men to the ground with a new hole in his chest. The people in the office scattered, desperately clambering over dividers and desks to get out of the way before a stray shot hit them too.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°Stop sitting there like you¡¯re not involved and help!¡± Veronica barked.

    Frankfort peered over the desk and steadied her arm against the wooden surface, firing two shots through the window and killing the second.

    ¡°We have to kill Jones!¡± she declared.

    Frankfort grabbed her shoulder, ¡°There¡¯s no time. He¡¯ll be running for the safety of the top floor, and we won¡¯t be able to break that line with just the two of us.¡±

    ¡°If he asserts control over WISA, we¡¯ll have bigger problems than that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too late. Welt¡¯s taking control of everything. We have to retreat and consider our next steps carefully.¡±

    Another voice called out; ¡°They killed ¡®em, send more men up here!¡±

    A stampede of feet was closing in on their position. Frankfort whipped around and considered making a leap of faith through the now broken windows, but she was too old to take that impact without breaking something in her legs, and the last way she wanted to go was being executed in the street gutter by one of her old subordinates.

    ¡°Come on, we can¡¯t stay in here. We need space to move!¡± Veronica said. Frankfort followed her out of her office and onto the main floor. A direct left would take them down one of the channels that led to the stairs. Unfortunately, a wall of fresh bodies was already pushing and shoving their way through.

    Veronica fired into the group ¨C killing two more men. Each shot had to be counted carefully, which was harder than it sounded amidst the chaos of a firefight contained entirely within an office building. She didn¡¯t feel bad about killing them. To detach oneself from personal affection was the bare minimum of what the job demanded.

    Besides, they would happily kill her first given the chance.

    ¡°This way!¡±

    Veronica pulled her along, moving past the cubicles, with bullets flying in every direction and almost hitting them as they ran. They whizzed past their heads and embedded into the concrete pillars that supported the floor above. Dust, gun smoke and scattered papers filled the air and obstructed their vision.

    On the opposite side of the floor was a second set of stairs that led to the ground floor. Since Jones wanted to make a statement by going through the front and through the lobby ¨C there were only two men stationed by that flight. Veronica and Frankfort summarily dispensed of them with a round of gunfire, riddling them with lead and sending them down. One of them stumbled back and down the steps ¨C rolling head over foot before slamming into the brick wall.

    Veronica and Frankfort stampeded over his body to reach the ground floor. Another set of gunmen turned their attention to them and opened fire. They both dashed for cover. Veronica decided to try and flank them by running around the side.

    There were too many bodies and not enough bullets. Veronica resorted to looting ammunition and a pistol from the next man unfortunate enough to get in her way. Rifling through his pockets while bullets were flying overhead was not a smart decision by any means, but if she didn¡¯t take that risk she would quickly run out of ammunition to fight back with.

    She left her cover position and shot at the group that was chasing them from the other set of stairs, forcing them back into hiding. One unlucky agent was too slow and had his brains painted against the marble floor of the lobby.

    Frankfort was doing her best to pick them off too, but the small amount of rounds she had meant she had to be extremely cautious with her shots. She killed one more of the enemy agents before scrambling across the floor to try and follow Veronica. She hadn¡¯t done field work like this in decades ¨C and it showed.

    Her knees and back were crying out under the stress. Didn¡¯t these ruffians have any manners? They should have learnt to respect their elders at this point, surely. Veronica kept up the fire. She dumped the entire magazine from her stolen pistol before discarding it and switching to another.

    ¡°There¡¯s another exit! Let¡¯s go this way!¡± Frankfort suggested, having to shout over the noise.

    The group attacking them was too timid after Veronica¡¯s assault. They didn¡¯t have time to react before both women ran in the opposite direction and headed for one of the rear doors to escape. Veronica¡¯s heart was pounding in her ears. She¡¯d been in intense fights before but this was on another level. Close quarters, deadly, with a million different routes to worry about. One wrong move could spell her end.

    But she would never forgive herself for letting Welt run wild across the nation with his reckless ambition. The entire reason she committed to being a member of WISA was so that she could create a safe place for Maria to live. They were so close to escaping. She could smell the fresh air coming from the outside.

    ¡°This way! We¡¯re almost there!¡±

    They were in such a rush to reach the door that they neglected to notice the man standing in the corridor to their right, waiting in ambush should they decide to make that exact move. He swept outwards with a gun pointed directly at them, ready to put an end to the farce.

    Veronica and Frankfort saw the sum total of their lives flash before their eyes. The man held up his gun and compressed the trigger. They were done. Caught out of position and vulnerable to his ambush. It would take him no time at all to gun them both down unless his luck turned sour and he failed to strike a vital area.

    Unlikely.

    Equally as unlikely was the arrival of an interloper, bounding through the door with a shotgun in her arms. A deafening bang echoed through the building as several lead pellets ripped through his flesh, shattering bone and sending him off of his feet, flying into the plastered wall to his right and crashing through it.

    When the dust settled ¨C she was the one standing there. She pumped the gun and dispensed a still-smoking shell onto the marble floor.

    ¡°Your carriage is here,¡± the girl chirped.

    Was this divine intervention? They were milliseconds away from being killed then and there, but this stranger had arrived on the scene and saved them. Veronica knew that it was Maria. That distinctive voice and small stature made her stick out like a sore thumb, except this time she was clumsily concealing her identity with a black mask.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Frankfort coughed, waving away the particulates in the air.

    ¡°We can have a talk over tea later. This is an urgent situation, is it not?¡±

    Maria escorted them through the door and into the alleyway. They made their escape, slipping through the routes that she had learned during her exploits in the city. When they were a safe distance from the building ¨C she removed her mask and led them to a quiet yard behind a shopping street where a horse-drawn carriage was waiting.

    ¡°Ladies first,¡± Maria intoned.

    Frankfort hesitated, but Veronica accepted the offer and climbing inside was the push that she needed to place a little faith in the small girl. Once they were both safely inside, she called out to the driver and slammed the door shut, drawing the curtains closed so that they wouldn¡¯t be seen from the outside.

    Frankfort stared at the stranger, although describing her as a ¡®stranger¡¯ wasn¡¯t accurate given her almost identical resemblance to the woman sitting on her left. A recent revelation about Veronica came back to the surface.

    ¡°Goddess above ¨C she looks exactly like you! You¡¯re telling me that nobody ever figured this out?¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°We don¡¯t exactly assemble in the same location very often, if at all, why would anyone have reason to suspect that she¡¯s my daughter?¡±

    ¡°Is this really the topic that you have to discuss first?¡± Maria pondered, ¡°I decided to visit your office for some information, only to stumble across the place being shot to hell and back. You¡¯re lucky that I was here to help.¡±

    ¡°Welt¡¯s taken control of the organization,¡± Veronica explained, ¡°There¡¯s nothing else to discuss. We¡¯ve been marked for summary execution. And don¡¯t you think it¡¯s rather presumptuous to come and ask us for information?¡±

    Maria laughed, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that I was trapped at the academy for some time. It sounded like the best way to get ¡®up to speed,¡¯ as they say.¡±

    Her eyes flickered to Frankfort and the mood took a sudden turn. She was still trying to recover from the stress of the fight in the headquarters ¨C so having a girl, a teenager, who looked the spitting image of her best agent was throwing her for a loop.

    ¡°Besides ¨C I¡¯m not asking. Are you not a veritable treasure trove of valuable, highly confidential information?¡±

    The rocking of the carriage did not help the sense of disorientation the former WISA agents felt. Veronica had seen glimpses of this before. There was an opportunistic monster that his beneath Maria¡¯s highly preened noble fa?ade. She would back people into a corner and hold as many of the cards as she was able, twisting their arms until they gave her what she wanted.

    Maria was waiting for this. She was hiding out near the office with the expectation that trouble would arise. How else would she have a carriage and escape route already planned out for them? Now they were stuck with her, and she could throw them to the wolves at any time.

    Frankfort had a headache, ¡°Gladwell ¨C can you handle this? I feel like my head is about to explode.¡±

    Maria spoke out of turn; ¡°We all want the same result. This is not a negotiation. The only way we will see our preferred outcome is if we pool our resources and knowledge.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not involving civilians in this, and especially not my own teenage daughter.¡±

    ¡°I hate to break this to you, Veronica ¨C but you are a civilian. All of that legal authority you enjoyed was torn to shreds at the drop of a hat. From now on, this is merely charity.¡±

    The carriage rolled to a stop, passing through a pair of wooden doors and hiding within an old warehouse. Maria opened the door and motioned for them to follow her.

    ¡°Where is this, exactly?¡±

    ¡°An old warehouse owned by our company. It isn¡¯t being used for anything at the moment, so it serves as the perfect place to lay low and plan our next move.¡±

    Veronica helped Frankfort stay steady. The ¡®living¡¯ area of the building was an old administrative space with some bedrolls thrown into it. Luckily the building also came with working plumbing and a toilet. Frankfort happily sat down on one of the chairs and caught her breath. The sounds of gunshots still rang in her ears, along with a high-pitched whine which made her spine crawl.

    ¡°And what do you suppose you¡¯ll do with the information we have? He has the entire apparatus of state at his fingertips now, with a good little toady sitting on the throne to give him whatever he wants.¡±

    ¡°He replaced the King?¡±

    ¡°Allegedly, although it hasn¡¯t been announced to the public yet. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s for good or ill that they haven¡¯t. A lot of people would react poorly to the news, yet they would likely fail to dislodge them from their positions. Walser has changed a lot since the civil war, after all.¡±

    Apathy amongst some and the advancement of military technology and training meant that a successful popular uprising would be difficult. During the civil war, it was mostly untrained soldiers fighting untrained militias, and they used most of the same equipment too.

    ¡°What I¡¯m going to do is find which hole he¡¯s hiding in and put a bullet through his skull. I hope that sounds agreeable to you.¡±

    Not that Maria¡¯s statement left any room for argument. She was going to do it with or without Veronica¡¯s help, just like with the cult attack. It was play her way or miss the opportunity to assist, and potentially save her life. It was a horrible gamble to make. Veronica couldn¡¯t understand her reasoning.

    Frankfort finally found the energy to join in.

    ¡°Are you certain you never taught this girl anything? She sounds exactly like you as well.¡±

    Veronica frowned, ¡°You¡¯re right. She does ¨C but I wasn¡¯t responsible for that, and she never told me where she did learn to do all of this. How about you shed some light on that issue before we go any further?¡±

    ¡°I already said that this was not a negotiation. I can shove you back out onto the street and let those old friends of yours chase you down, or, you can agree to give me what you know and I¡¯ll help you keep your heads down until the storm blows over.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not hiding.¡±

    ¡°I knew you¡¯d say that.¡±

    Maria walked to one of the tables, which was covered with a large beige tarp, ripping it away and revealing a veritable armoury of different weapons and ammunition. Veronica¡¯s eyes bulged out of their sockets at the sight of her collection.

    ¡°I asked a few favours, went back home, and collected every firearm and round of ammunition that I could get my grubby mitts on. I believe this should be enough to kill every fool who gets between us and Welt. Do you disagree?¡±

    Frankfort looked concerned, but Veronica was going to plough ahead regardless. Killing Welt was what they had to do ¨C no matter what methods they involved to make it happen. He was the man pulling the strings and corrupting the government with his influence, and he had a direct hand in dozens and dozens of brutal murders at that.

    Besides ¨C Frankfort technically wasn¡¯t her boss anymore!

    ¡°Fine,¡± she said, ¡°But I¡¯m getting answers from you one way or another.¡±

    She picked up a gun from the collection and left to use the bathroom. Maria smiled cheekily and turned to her new guest.

    ¡°I¡¯m Maria Walston-Carter. It¡¯s lovely to meet you.¡±

    Frankfort nodded, ¡°Yes. My name is Isabelle Frankfort.¡±

    Did Maria have to toy with that pistol while making pleasantries?

 Chapter 147

    Veronica finally decided to get her handler, Frankfort, up to speed on how, when and why she went missing to give birth to me. As far as I could tell from their discussion she had figured something out with Veronica having to tell her ¨C but the details remained a mystery to her the entire time.

    It was a curious story, a brush with fate that saw her meeting Damian and forming an illicit relationship despite strict rules against that type of behaviour within WISA and the royal organization that preceded it. One thing led to another and she got knocked up. She worked several missions whilst suffering from the symptoms before taking a chance and going off-grid.

    She stayed at the manor for a few months until I was born, before promptly packing up her belongings and returning to WISA with an alibi about being caught behind enemy lines. The agreement was simple. She¡¯d stay the hell out of Damian¡¯s way to keep WISA from finding out, and he would take charge of raising me.

    With that foundation work finished, I prodded her for information about what WISA was doing during all of this chaos. Frankfort was the first one to open up with a broadside about how stupid she thought everyone else at the agency was being.

    ¡°They¡¯re a bunch of feckless good-for-nothings! All of that talk about maintaining the public peace meant nothing in the end. They¡¯re all too worried about maintaining their position and getting into the government¡¯s good graces, especially now that Welt¡¯s taken over. I knew they were dragging their feet but this level of boot-polishing astonishes me regardless.¡±

    Veronica rolled her eyes, ¡°What¡¯s new?¡±

    ¡°Foot dragging?¡± I asked.

    Frankfort grumbled wearily, ¡°Slow-walking investigative steps that needed to be done, having open discussions at high levels about what to do ¡®if¡¯ the Compromise was shredded and the royal family repowered, and you don¡¯t have any idea how hard it was to get permission to pursue Welt directly. It¡¯s a miracle from the Goddess herself that we even got that arrest warrant.¡±

    Even when the corruption and criminality were right in front of them ¨C these types of government organizations were normally conservative in nature. They were hedging their bets on Welt¡¯s success. I could imagine them popping the corks and having a celebration as we spoke. They would be counting their chickens before they hatched.

    This was the easy part. The hard part was what happened when the public reacted to the news of their democratically elected government being ousted and superseded by a noble who thought he knew better than everyone else. The fight had left a lot of them after years of civil war and the trauma it elicited on recollection, but there were still a lot of very angry, very heavily armed citizens in Walser.

    ¡°It¡¯s good that I wasn¡¯t relying on WISA to solve all of our problems, then. Veronica ¨C do you know where Welt is hiding right now?¡±

    She grimaced, ¡°I¡¯ve been running back and forth across the entire bloody country looking for him. It¡¯s thanks to my atrocious luck that I haven¡¯t even caught a whiff of him yet. I have a few buildings owned by his company left to investigate.¡±

    ¡°Which ones?¡±

    Veronica proceeded to list five different locations of interest around the capital city. Now that Welt was directly involved in the running of government and manipulating the royal family, he needed to be close at hand to issue his orders. The last one caught my attention though, entirely because of where it was located.

    ¡°What is the ¡®Burnley Tower¡¯ exactly?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an old sanatorium. It saw a lot of use during the plague, but after that, the facilities became too outdated and expensive to maintain ¨C so it was left to rot,¡± Veronica explained.

    As far as I could recall that area of the coast was a beautiful but unstable location. Aside from the sanatorium, there were very few permanent structures built there out of fear of erosion eventually causing them to collapse. The people in Walser had the foresight not to build their towns and villages on the edges of a crumbling cliff. A building tall enough to be called a ¡®tower¡¯ would have to be pushed back further inland.

    ¡°I have a gut feeling that Welt¡¯s been there, although if you ask me, I think he¡¯s hiding somewhere in the city by now. It could be helpful to go there and see what comes out when we shake the tree.¡±

    Veronica was doubtful about my proposal.

    ¡°I can¡¯t see how that will do us any good at this point. Welt¡¯s already sunk his claws in high society and the royal family. They¡¯ll all fall in line, the warrant will be rescinded, and he¡¯ll get a hero¡¯s welcome into the capital. It¡¯d be faster to wait for him to gloat and shoot him dead then and there.¡±

    ¡°Faster, but not necessarily safer. We¡¯ve both seen first-hand how dangerous his new private army is. We won¡¯t be able to get close to him if he¡¯s being cautious. He¡¯ll stay out of the way and let the new King do the talking, and surround himself and his conspirators with as many soldiers as he can muster. We need to understand how he¡¯s creating them.¡±

    ¡°We already do. That demon we killed? He used his connections in the military to steal material from the body and smuggle it out. Then he worked with a biologist named Sloan to refine that bodily fluid into a potent drug that can be injected into the bloodstream.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re injecting themselves with demon blood?¡± I said in disbelief, ¡°There¡¯s a new fool born every minute in this country.¡±

    ¡°That supernatural durability and magical power can¡¯t be achieved without it. As far as I can tell it also provided some kind of healing properties to the killers. I spoke with one ¨C they drugged him to hell and back, filled his head with suggestions, but they lured him in by promising a cure to a terminal condition he was suffering from.¡±

    The sting in the tail was obvious, but they would hide it from people who weren¡¯t already in the tank for a monarchist restoration.

    ¡°In the long term, finding where they¡¯re producing these soldiers and preventing them from making more would be to our benefit,¡± Frankfort suggested, ¡°We cannot assume that all of the pieces will fall into place without the appropriate preparations.¡±

    As much as I liked to tell myself that I always prepared before launching my retaliatory attacks, the reality was that I found no time to make those preparations. More than once I was flying by the seat of my pants, trying to plug gaps with all four of my limbs.

    ¡°Will this place be heavily defended?¡± I inquired.

    ¡°Not on the outside, but that may have changed with Welt¡¯s assertion of control. We¡¯ll have to prepare for a fight regardless. Is it only us?¡± Veronica scanned the office in search of any other people, ¡°Because we¡¯ll be badly outnumbered like this.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that-¡±

    Before I could finish explaining, the door swung open and Claude swaggered through, with Max, Adrian and Samantha following him in a single-file line. Veronica¡¯s face dropped like a rock.

    ¡°We¡¯re back!¡± he declared.

    ¡°-I¡¯m afraid that they may not be much use in a fight.¡±

    Frankfort was equally unimpressed with the cohort of teenagers that I was being forced to drag around with me. Hearing Max, Adrian and Claude immediately begin bickering over some stupid bullshit that happened while they were away only worsened her first impression of them.

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Samantha sighed, ¡°I got the stuff you wanted. Some fresh clothes, food, what have you.¡±

    She placed the bag onto an empty desk for later and approached the killer huddle at the back corner of the office space. The bickering boys stayed well out of our way for the time being.

    ¡°I thought you were only going out for some fresh air. Why is your mother here?¡±

    I nodded; ¡°I intended to swing by the WISA office and see what was going on, but the moment I approached the block an almighty gunfight started happening inside. You can probably infer what was going on based on our new guests.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I see. Well, I suppose it can¡¯t hurt to have some extra hands to help out.¡±

    Frankfort scoffed, ¡°Veronica ¨C do you honestly think that this is a good idea? They¡¯re children for goodness sake!¡±

    ¡°I agree, but I¡¯ve also learnt that my troublesome daughter loves to blackmail me by using her own safety as a bargaining chip. Short of tying her down like a hog nothing is going to stop her from meddling, and I doubt that would stop her anyway.¡±

    ¡°And her being willing to kill a man with a shotgun?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea why. She won¡¯t tell me.¡±

    Veronica and Frankfort didn¡¯t have a choice. They were dead women walking with the entire weight of WISA bearing down on them and a vengeful man in charge who wanted them dead, almost entirely because of their ability to interfere with Welt¡¯s monarchist restoration. I was one of the few friends that they had left.

    ¡°The long and short of the matter is that I¡¯m your ticket out of here. I can smuggle you wherever we have to go and utilise our family¡¯s resources to get what we need in turn. Without a government intelligence agency at your disposal, a gun-toting noble is second best.¡±

    Frankfort cupped her face, ¡°I can¡¯t believe this is where my career led me...¡±

    ¡°If you were being serious about keeping the peace, then this will be the biggest test of your will so far. It¡¯s up to you whether those words were empty posturing or a declaration of intent. This isn¡¯t about status or keeping your station.¡±

    She stood up and stared me down, ¡°Don¡¯t go doubting my sincerity. I¡¯ve been protecting Walser from people like Welt for far longer than you¡¯ve been alive. There isn¡¯t a single soul in this country who is willing to give more than I.¡±

    To show her determination ¨C she approached the weaponry laid out on the table and perused the selection. It was a mixture of whatever I could find on the estate and purchase through my proxies and servants, along with enough ammo to kill every person that Welt sent at us. She settled on a pair of pistols. It never hurt to have a backup.

    Veronica moved us right along, ¡°So, should we head to that tower and see if we can shake loose some helpful information? Better yet ¨C it may be where they¡¯re conducting this abominable research.¡±

    ¡°That sounds agreeable to me,¡± I nodded. My eyes turned to Samantha and the others, who were listening in to the discussion now that the argument was over. I suddenly regretted relenting and allowing them to come with me. What the heck were they going to do in this scenario exactly?

    ¡°As for you lot, I don¡¯t know what to say. You wanted to come with me, but I¡¯m expecting you to become involved in the fighting.¡±

    ¡°I know how to shoot a gun,¡± Adrian offered unhelpfully.

    ¡°Standing on a platform and blasting a clay plate is a different world to fighting real people who want to murder you,¡± I replied, having belaboured this exact point several times before, ¡°Those targets don¡¯t shoot back ¨C for one thing.¡±

    ¡°Are all children this bloodthirsty these days?¡± Veronica joked, ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so willing to go down that path.¡±

    Adrian groaned, ¡°Don¡¯t you start giving me that talk too! Do you have any idea how patronizing it sounds? Maria, you¡¯ve been killing baddies left and right since you showed up at the academy. Why can¡¯t I?¡±

    Less patronizing to hear from an adult woman than when it came from me I assumed.

    ¡°There are two good reasons,¡± I responded, ¡°First, as I said, you don¡¯t have any experience in what it¡¯s like to take part in a real firefight. It¡¯s not about pointing a gun and pulling the trigger ¨C it¡¯s everything else you have to worry about while doing it. Second, what good would it serve to have you or the others endanger yourselves for a lack of perceived benefit?¡± I pointed to Claude and Max; ¡°Are you two going to jump in front of a bullet as well?¡±

    They both shook their heads. They wanted nothing to do with that.

    ¡°So why did you agree to bring us with you?¡± Adrian asked.

    ¡°Because I would never hear the end of it if I didn¡¯t. I told you it was better to go somewhere safe while the trouble blew over, but you wouldn¡¯t listen. This is exactly why. Getting your hands dirty is only liable to get you killed.¡±

    ¡°Come on. I¡¯m trying to do something selfless here!¡±

    ¡°The only thing you¡¯re doing is self-harm,¡± I shot back, ¡°I understand that you feel the need to become involved with this because of what happened with your uncle, but it¡¯s best to take a step back and think very hard about what you¡¯re willing to do to make that happen.¡±

    ¡°I already said that I didn¡¯t care about that.¡±

    Veronica had a look of realization.

    ¡°You¡¯re Adrian Roderro? Didn¡¯t Welt have your uncle killed?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. He did.¡±

    Max jumped into the discussion, ¡°Almost killed my brother in that same attack. He¡¯s a bloody psychopath.¡±

    ¡°Why was your brother talking with him?¡±

    Max shrugged, ¡°He¡¯d invested in his Church Walk project ¨C but he decided to call off the entire thing suddenly. The other investors told him to go and confront him about it. Turns out the reason he backed out was that Welt was going over his head and killing the gang members that lived there.¡±

    ¡°A convenient way to kill two birds with one stone,¡± I concluded.

    I didn¡¯t know how much of that Veronica had already put together based on her own investigation. She was one of the agents responsible for looking into the demon-solider matter, even if she wasn¡¯t aware of the full depth of the problem when she started investigating those murders.

    If it continued as it was ¨C then it was possible that Welt¡¯s plans would escalate even further. He was intent on securing his position of power behind the throne of the King, he wanted statues and streets dedicated in his name, and a ¡®quick and easy¡¯ war with one of our long-time rivals would be the perfect capstone in his eyes. Whether he was cautious enough to see that dispatching troops would open a window of opportunity for violent civil unrest remained to be seen.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time to stand here and talk all day,¡± Frankfort said, ¡°Every second counts ¨C so let¡¯s head over to the cliffs and get this over with.¡±

    <hr>

    I agreed to let the rest of the gang come under the provision that they followed my orders and kept out of danger. We all piled into the carriage and took off, taking the main avenue out of the city and out towards the rocky cliffs to the north. They were beautiful and intimidating in equal measure.

    The rest of the landscape alternated between rolling beaches with tall dunes, long grass on flat terrain, and sudden upticks in elevation that made travelling to and from this area a challenge on the roads. It was for that, and the consistent erosion that this area did not see the same amount of development as the city proper.

    We pulled up on the side of the road and dismounted, almost losing our footing as a powerful gust of wind swept across the plains and pushed us around. I tightened the coat around my shoulders. It was summer ¨C but there was no getting around the strong bite of that cold wind, which came from across the sea.

    The Burnley Tower poked upwards from behind one of the hills. It was a decrepit and decaying structure that was taller than a lot of the buildings you could find in the urban core. The architecture was modern in nature, but the pastel paint had long been turned sour by the salty air and punishing weather.

    In short, it looked like a complete wreck.

    ¡°Are you sure Welt was hiding out here?¡±

    Veronica shook her head and spoke up over the deafening wind, ¡°It was not my first choice! It¡¯s close to the capital ¨C but the lack of easy access and the deteriorating facilities made me seek out the others on my list first.¡±

    There was a small amount of road traffic from fishing villages and agricultural settlements further inland, who used the road as the most direct route to the urban markets that they profited from. It was conceivable that they smuggled quantities of their product into the city from the tower. Veronica implied that Welt had a sophisticated network of premises, dummy businesses, and distribution and deployment centres from which he could unleash his force on the city. That all hinged on where they were keeping the biological material they stole from the demon we killed at the railyard.

    I pulled out a pair of binoculars and carefully studied the outer edge of the property for any signs of guards on watch. There were a handful of men mulling around the exterior or sheltering from the blustery winds. They were trying to keep a low profile and stay out of sight, even now that Welt had played his hand and moved into the city.

    It wasn¡¯t going to be as simple as breaking in and sniffing around for evidence. Welt was still using the tower for some purpose. I carefully noted their positions, weapons and patrol patterns. After that, I returned to Veronica and Frankfort and explained the situation.

    ¡°I counted six men watching the perimeter, and they¡¯re armed. This must be the right place.¡±

    ¡°No reason for armed guards at an abandoned building,¡± Veronica confirmed. She¡¯d seen the deed being exchanged to a shell company connected to Welt during her investigation. It hurt her to recall that she no longer had the ability to boss the local government around and get what she wanted.

    We were armed to the teeth and ready to go.

    ¡°I can¡¯t keep up with you two. I¡¯ll stay on the rear exit and ensure that they don¡¯t have any smart ideas about running away once you break in,¡± Frankfort said.

    We were going to clear the building to the best of our ability before allowing Samantha and the others to get anywhere near it. With all of the group aware of their respective jobs and our weapons brought to the fore ¨C Veronica and I departed from the staging area and took the long way around to get the drop on our enemies. I crossed my fingers and hoped that none of his demonic soldiers were waiting in the wings for us...

 Chapter 148

    We snuck across the hilly terrain and approached the tower with Frankfort in tow. The guards were few in number and not enhanced like Welt¡¯s assassins, which did not bode well for our chances of finding him. The last hope was that there was information or valuable resources tied up inside that we could steal or sabotage.

    ¡°Are we going to kill them, or tie them up?¡±

    Veronica shook her head, ¡°We can¡¯t sneak up on all of them. Let¡¯s take care of it and watch out for reinforcements from inside. I¡¯ll take the three on the left, you handle the two on the right.¡±

    It was a difficult trade-off to make. It was possible that more men were waiting inside the tower for this exact eventuality, but there was little solid cover between us and the building now. If we were caught in a bad spot, then it would be game over before we got started.

    ¡°Go!¡±

    We crested the hill at the same time, sliding down the unsteady soil and approaching with our guns raised into firing position. We both unleashed a series of devastatingly precise gunshots, cutting down the entire outside patrol before they could figure out what was going on. Their bodies slumped down onto the dirt track that surrounded the building on all sides.

    We approached one of the doors after a brief pause and prepared to make our entry.

    ¡°Let me go in front.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be able to shoot past you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going in front,¡± she repeated ¨C leaving no room for debate.

    She kicked down the door and intentionally stood in front of me. The lobby of the building was completely trashed, and there was no sign of any further resistance just yet. Victoria took the lead, snaking through the discarded furniture and approaching one of the long corridors that moved through the length of the building like arteries.

    There were four stairwells spread across the ground floor that allowed visitors to move between the wards and recreational areas. They went up and down. I didn¡¯t realize there was a basement here too, they must have added it while constructing the foundation needed to support it on the shifting soil below.

    Thunderous footsteps stampeded towards us from above. We paused and spread apart. To demonstrate Veronica¡¯s experience ¨C she waited even as the first foe appeared at the bottom of the steps because he was still fumbling with his rifle, not expecting us to already be so close. As soon as the man behind him moved off the bottom step, she opened fire and killed them both.

    It was my turn after that. Veronica needed to reload. I momentarily took point and shot the next two, who despite seeing what happened to their friends still blindly bumbled into view without being prepared.

    ¡°What the hell are they teaching these morons?¡± I wondered. Welt wasn¡¯t keeping his best here to guard the tower. The doubt I felt about finding something constructive grew even stronger.

    Veronica had reloaded her pistol and retook the lead, ¡°A lot of his loyalists are untrained men and women who have no experience. I initially believed that he would rely on former militia members from the civil war but...¡±

    ¡°But?¡±

    ¡°Despite their wide proliferation decades ago - they¡¯re too old and difficult to find now, and they have no desire to willingly sign on for more bloody warfare. Welt is moving so quickly that the training they did receive is substandard.¡±

    ¡°And what about the individuals he¡¯s been deploying as assassins?¡±

    Veronica shook her head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never seen evidence that suggests they receive substantial training either.¡±

    Thinking back on it, most of the assassins I¡¯d run into relied simply on their durability to get through a fight. They could point and shoot, and wreak havoc with their magic, but they were not a well-trained fighting force by any stretch of the imagination. If they were that concerned about it they wouldn¡¯t have recruited a child onto the team.

    Victoria shushed me. We were moving up to the next floor to clear it out. The building was huge and filled with dozens and dozens of rooms to hide in. There were just as many large ward areas, which were intended to hold hundreds of sick patients during outbreaks or crises.

    Without the sound of gunshots to shatter the atmosphere, the tower took on a haunting aura. The signs of decay were everywhere I looked, with shattered windows and twisted metal furniture casting long shadows as the sun moved towards the horizon. There were still signs of life, both from the original occupants and Welt¡¯s gang of killers.

    I heard gunshots from outside before silence returned. We had to keep moving and trust that Frankfort could handle those trying to escape.

    We passed a notice board in one of the staff rooms, which was still covered with papers and schedules for the nurses who manned the floor. Away from the broken windows, the building remained in usable shape. We soon stumbled across one of the watertight chambers that they had converted into a living space.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be caught dead willingly living here,¡± Veronica whispered.

    It was a pigsty. They had left their garbage piled up in the corner. Dirty clothes hung from a line running across the room, with some larger bedsheets being used to offer a small amount of privacy in the communal space. The wind rattled the old wooden window frames, it would be difficult to get any sleep with strong gusts going on all night.

    A silhouette moved behind one of the hanging sheets. I fired through it ¨C staining the off-white fabric with a splatter of red blood and causing the enemy in hiding to fall into it, collapsing into a heap in the middle of the room. I trained my aim on him and checked to make sure he was a goner. A dropped revolver lay on the floor where he was standing.

    Veronica stared at me. She was still grappling with the implications of how her daughter had gone so wrong when she wasn¡¯t paying attention. She was trying to discern what type of training I had received. She had an encyclopaedic knowledge of every terror group, paramilitary organization, intelligence agency and clandestine military force in the world.

    I had a brief career as a member of a SWAT department close to my hometown, but a lot of what I did was self-taught. I would rerun my hits in great detail and critique every single move I made. The rest came from looking deep into the world of confidence scams and social infiltration techniques. Sneaking around was suspicious ¨C but looking like you belonged somewhere was not.

    She was going to draw some type of conclusion based on what she knew, but how could she align her final choice with my history? If she concluded that I had been trained by a terrorist organization from across the ocean, when, where and how would I have been detained to receive that instruction? It was a puzzle with no answer because the truth was absurd beyond reason.

    We cleared the rest of the floor and moved up, but as we progressed it became obvious that the upper areas of the building were too damaged to be occupied for any length of time. We returned to the third floor and made our final sweep, coming across two more men who were trying to get around us in the other main corridor.

    Their backs were turned ¨C so it wasn¡¯t a fight. They joined their friends as another pair of corpses. That was the full extent of the security at the tower. We spent another twenty minutes exploring everywhere else before reuniting with Frankfort in the lobby at the designated window.

    ¡°Three tried to run, but they weren¡¯t expecting someone to be on watch.¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s move into the basement. Stay alert.¡±

    We descended into the bottom level of the tower, which was cast from what were once the most modern materials available. It was all dull-grey concrete, supported by thick pillars of metal that penetrated the roof and supported the entire building from below. It had to resist the shifting soils of the coastline without letting the tower waver, so it was tough enough to survive a bombing run and then some.

    That sounded like a good reason to build a secret laboratory in here, and that was what soon became apparent as we stalked the desolate corridors. The rooms were converted for a variety of uses, with the smaller ones acting as cells for their victims, and the larger chambers housing the various tools and benches utilised to create their end product. In the centre of the basement was a large basement refrigerator, once used to store biological samples at the sanatorium.

    It was not a secure lock around the door seal, with cold air seeping through the cracks. I peered through the small window and found myself faced with a dozen shelves. Most of them had been emptied, but a few stragglers had a handful of vials on them. They were all filled with a black liquid.

    ¡°This is where they produced their serum,¡± I observed.

    ¡°So why is it so lightly guarded?¡±

    ¡°They have control over the royal family, the government, the police, and now even WISA. There is no reason for them to hide like this anymore. They¡¯ve emptied out every usable sample and transported them away. They must have another facility in mind to continue production.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Let¡¯s worry about that once we¡¯re certain this place is clear,¡± Frankfort insisted.

    We left the refrigerator behind and continued to explore the basement. I did not envy the people who were kept captive here. There was the sound of something clattering and hitting the floor up ahead in one of the smaller chambers, followed by the hushed profanity of someone who didn¡¯t want to be found.

    The three of us approached the door and stood on both sides. Veronica and Frankfort followed the WISA manual to the letter, pushing it open with their guns raised, ready to meet the challenge of whoever was waiting on the other side with speed and momentum.

    ¡°W-Wait, don¡¯t shoot! Please don¡¯t shoot! Look, my hands are up!¡±

    I looked through the doorway into a miserable-looking living quarters. Of all the people I was expecting to see inside the crumbling tower, Genta Cambry was very much not one of them. He was cowering in the corner of a jail-cell bedroom, with no windows to bring in outside light. He peered through the gaps in her arms, recognized who we were, and crawled over on his hands and knees like a desperate dog.

    ¡°Veronica! Maria! Am I ever so pleased to see you both again!¡±

    He was buttering us up. The terror he felt melted away in an instant. That cultist situation was the most stressful few days of his life, and it was obvious at the end of it that he couldn¡¯t wait to see the back of us and return to his regular routine. I didn¡¯t blame him.

    ¡°There is no need for the pleasantries, Genta,¡± I replied. I reached out and helped him up onto his feet.

    ¡°Oh, no. I mean every word of it ¨C honest. If anybody can help me out of this damnable place it¡¯s you two.¡±

    This poor guy couldn¡¯t catch a break. First, he was being harassed by violent gangs of mad cultists, and now Welt had kidnapped him for his presumptive expertise about the demons he was attempting to exploit. Frankfort seemed suspicious of him, at least until she recalled that he was the man who pulled a fast one on Veronica during the Scuncath incident.

    I holstered my gun; ¡°What did they bring you here for?¡±

    Genta adjusted his glasses and dusted off his suit, ¡°Well, first they ¡®asked¡¯ me to help them ¡®harvest¡¯ more biological material from the Horr. They wanted to utilise the summoning circles to bring more of them into this world so they could slaughter them like cattle, and then extract what they needed to create more soldiers.¡±

    Veronica groaned, ¡°That sounds crazy enough to be Welt¡¯s idea, alright.¡±

    ¡°I implored him that there was simply no safe way to summon a Horr and then kill it without significant risks. As demonstrated by that horrible beast they summoned at the fort ¨C they can have any number of unusual abilities that make containing them impossible. A locked room would not stand up to that sort of matter-changing power.¡±

    ¡°What did he do then?¡± I asked.

    ¡°He seemed rather shocked that I was willing to stand up to his scheme, to be honest. I was being forthright about the risks he was taking. However, his answer did not fill me with confidence. The men who would die bringing his idea to life were merely expendable. I was forced to ward him away by offering what little I remember about summoning circles, nothing that he could use, mind you.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°A lot of that information was disseminated amongst the cult members after they stole the book. I have no doubt that they could find someone willing to share it in exchange for money.¡±

    ¡°He came to the source first,¡± Genta shrugged, ¡°The man who created the serum, Landon Sloan, did not share my reservations. This is his masterwork ¨C and he will do anything to ensure that there is a steady supply of that goddess-forsaken poison for their new secret police.¡±

    Veronica connected the dots; ¡°These soldiers, do they have ghostly skin, bloodshot eyes, increased durability, and enhanced magical power?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I shouldn¡¯t have to say that injecting Horr blood into your body has serious side effects. The density of the fluid and the concentrated magical energy are bound to interfere with the normal function of a human system. I suspect that their urgency in gathering more of it is because they fear what may happen should their current crop die out.¡±

    And that included the boy who attacked the funeral.

    ¡°Does that include a boy around my age?¡±

    Genta seemed hesitant to share what he knew about that situation.

    ¡°That boy? He¡¯s a devil, he is. Even worse ¨C he¡¯s Sloan¡¯s son. They called him Charlie.¡±

    Veronica was stunned, ¡°He did that to his own son?¡±

    She was always even-handed and calm under pressure, but that was a revelation that struck at the core of her own personal motives. Everything she did was for the sake of creating a ¡®safe¡¯ Walser where I wouldn¡¯t be in danger ¨C so the thought of intentionally poisoning her own child and turning him into a half-demon super soldier made her stomach churn.

    ¡°Aye. That was his son. It¡¯s not just that serum either, he¡¯s been filling his head with all kinds of toxic ideas, turning him into the perfect little ideologue for whatever they have planned. He didn¡¯t seem to flinch about potentially killing me for stepping out of line,¡± Genta explained.

    ¡°Are you the only one here aside from the guards?¡±

    Genta shook his head; ¡°Sloan and Welt aren¡¯t here anymore. They both headed out so they could keep a closer eye on their soldiers. I haven¡¯t seen him for a week now. He used to be on my case every chance he got. Said I could rot here until I produced the results they wanted.¡±

    But Genta never had any intention of doing that even if he still had his full memories of the research he did. He was the one at the forefront of that field ¨C and he was always conscious of the potential consequences should that info fall into the wrong hands.

    ¡°Let¡¯s do one final sweep of the premises, and then we can press Mister Cambry for what he knows ¨C and search for evidence that can help us,¡± Frankfort instructed. He followed us out of the cell and into a safer spot.

    Veronica and I went back and double-checked for any signs of life from the guards, but I was confident that they were all dealt with. They were the graveyard shift, sent here to do the bare minimum and keep an eye on Genta while he slaved away on the summoning circle project.

    The entire gang was waved over, although they had serious trepidations about having to walk past the dead bodies that surrounded the front entrance. I felt some irritation beginning to build inside of my head. If they were so squeamish about this ¨C why did they demand to be brought along on the trip? At least they helped us search the basement for any useful information. It would have taken way too long with just the three of us.

    Samantha and Adrian followed me into the cold storage area.

    I could already sense the strong magical energy being emitted by the vials of blood that had been left behind. I held it up, feeling it diffusing through the palm of my hand and into my veins. Merely touching the glass was enough to start a steady drip of energy into my body, which explained how potent it was when injected directly.

    Genta overheard Sloan speaking to Welt about the process of making it usable in the human body. It was too thick taken straight from the source ¨C which could clog veins and valves and cause heart problems, overstressing the muscle and making it fail. Even more dangerous was the concentration of magical energy, which could destabilize molecules and atoms and create an effect similar to radiation poisoning.

    The first step was dilution to try and reduce the negative effects. The complicated equipment in the labs would be used to strain the blood into smaller, less concentrated batches. That would then be combined with a saline solution of water and salt to make it palatable to humans.

    Sloan burned through a lot of innocent people to make his serum work.

    Adrian was nervous, ¡°I get a bad feeling looking at these vials. Is this what they¡¯ve been pumping into those lunatics?¡±

    I put it back in place; ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe that anyone would willingly make themselves like that for a noble they don¡¯t even know,¡± Samantha said.

    ¡°They think that being aligned with his politics is enough to earn his favour and admiration, even though he only sees them as useful tools. They will be the ones who bear the negative consequences even if he succeeds.¡±

    Adrian moped at me, ¡°You didn¡¯t seem so concerned about his ¡®tools¡¯ when you were shooting them dead a moment ago.¡±

    ¡°I never said that I am empathetic to their position. One who picks up a weapon with the intent to use it cannot then complain when they become a target. They are pitiable in the most morbid sense of the word. A gaggle of fools who care not for the consequences of their actions lest they affect them personally.¡±

    And for that matter ¨C Adrian was very eager to join in and pick up a gun when he insisted on coming with us. He was trying to get a rise out of me.

    ¡°Is this because I told you to stay back?¡±

    Adrian threw up his arms, ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s because of that. I don¡¯t need you protecting me anymore. I don¡¯t understand why you can¡¯t see that.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about protecting you, Adrian. Living with the weight of that on your shoulders for the rest of your life is something that should be avoided if that¡¯s possible. There is nothing to envy about being a killer.¡±

    ¡°Weight? You gunned down those people like they didn¡¯t even matter! Are you even taking this seriously?¡±

    ¡°Of course I am!¡±

    I snapped ¨C my calm mask breaking for a moment. Adrian and Samantha shot up straight, their bodies rigid at the sound of my voice being raised.

    ¡°Do you want me to dig them all a grave in the middle of a gunfight? To say their final rites? To send a letter apologizing to their families? I take this seriously. I always have, and I won¡¯t stand for you questioning me like this.¡±

    Adrian and Samantha knew they were walking on eggshells. This was not the theatrical outrage I wielded like a weapon at the academy. I was genuinely angry with him for daring to suggest that I was being flippant in a life-threatening situation. Adrian was forced to accept that he¡¯d overstepped the mark with that accusation.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t get it.¡±

    ¡°And hopefully you¡¯ll never have to! Don¡¯t let curiosity be the only reason you choose to take someone¡¯s life.¡±

    Adrian reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch, holding it in the air for us to see.

    ¡°When I got this, I thought I could really do something good with it, help people, maybe stop all of this crazy bloody stuff from happening ¨C but every time I¡¯m forced to face down the fact that I can¡¯t do shit all! I¡¯m just a bloody coward.¡±

    I shook my head; ¡°Let me say this. I don¡¯t always feel sorry for the people I kill. Some of them are bastards, rotten to the root, but I still remember every single one, and I still don¡¯t have fun while I¡¯m doing it. In my eyes ¨C what good are manners when you¡¯ve taken the single most precious thing that any person can possess?¡±

    Adrian¡¯s hands slumped back to his sides. Before the odd argument where we both talked at odds with one another about different subjects could conclude, Genta walked through the door and into the refrigerator with us. His eyes turned to the watch clutched in his fingers.

    ¡°Is that watch what I think it is? Is that genuine time reversing timepiece?¡±

    I nodded; ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were a connoisseur of rare magical items too, Genta.¡±

    ¡°I have a lot of interests. I had a phase where I was very interested in reading everything I could about these sorts of inventions. That metalwork, heraldry and fine detail is unmistakable.¡±

    Adrian snapped the lid closed and shook his head, ¡°It¡¯s not much use at the moment. The crystal inside can store enough power to travel through time ¨C but it was wasted by some fool after it was stolen from me. It¡¯ll take years for it to recharge.¡±

    Genta nodded, ¡°It certainly will if you rely on ambient magic in the air!¡±

    The lightbulb in his head sparked to life, and it took a few false starts to get his idea out to the rest of us.

    ¡°But what if you don¡¯t have to rely on ambient absorption? We¡¯re surrounded by vials filled with extremely potent samples of Horr blood. You need only submerse the crystal in it for a brief spell and it should charge much quicker.¡±

    Adrian was hesitant; ¡°Won¡¯t that cause damage to it?¡±

    ¡°No, not at all. Those dense crystals are very durable ¨C and the Horr blood isn¡¯t acidic or anything like that. It¡¯s simply very dense and filled with magical energy. It¡¯s not as if I¡¯m telling you to ingest it or inject it into your bloodstream.¡±

    Adrian toyed with the back plate of the watch. He could easily unscrew it and retrieve the crystal inside. Was it worth giving his idea a shot? The watch was extremely useful. It couldn¡¯t change the past ¨C but having it available meant that we could bring about a more favourable present.

    Genta clicked his tongue, ¡°It¡¯s your decision. Veronica sent me to grab Maria.¡±

    The argument would have to wait until later.

 Chapter 149

    I was escorted to the ground floor, where Frankfort and Veronica waited for me in the old office behind the front desk. They had a large pile of pilfered papers in front of them.

    ¡°Welt had a lovely little office built for himself on the upper floors. One of the only rooms in the entire tower with intact windows,¡± Frankfort revealed. The goons he placed on guard duty must have been happy to learn that.

    Genta¡¯s testimony combined with their intelligence, and documents pilfered from the various spaces being used in the tower, had given them a clearer view of where things were headed. Since we were all in the same boat ¨C they had graciously decided to clue me in as well.

    Frankfort was grave, ¡°Ekkehard Van Walser is the one they¡¯ve appointed to be the new King. He¡¯s a flagrant opportunist ¨C and was poorly regarded by the members of the main house for his cravenness. That says a lot, considering the usual strength of character on display from the royals. They should be announcing it tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°What kind of story have they concocted to justify that?¡±

    ¡°They have several. The border attack that they organized, the tensions building in parliament, and the recent chaos in the city. It¡¯ll all become encompassed in a sweeping narrative about the previous King not doing enough to quell the disorder. The story is secondary so long as they obtain a monopoly on force, and I fear that they will.¡±

    ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°There was also a document listing some of his conspirators. They must have missed it while trying to destroy the evidence. Jonas Rentree, Micah Greenblatt, Jerimiah Vincent, and some others. There aren¡¯t many surprises, to be honest.¡±

    ¡°But it is instructive for our purposes. It shows how deeply he¡¯s entangled himself with the government and high society. Some of those people would only choose to back him if they believed it was the winning side,¡± Veronica theorized.

    ¡°This is all sounding like horrible news,¡± I grumbled.

    The ¡®easiest¡¯ way to handle this would be to knock off each person involved. I could handle that, although it wouldn¡¯t be quick. I¡¯d have to make plans for each target and bide my time to execute them. A window of opportunity didn¡¯t come around every day.

    ¡°And I don¡¯t imagine that the army reforms led to a mass exodus of monarchists from the command structure?¡± I added pessimistically.

    ¡°Oh no, not at all,¡± Frankfort chuckled, ¡°They clung on for dear life until their knuckles turned white as a sheet. They were willing to compromise on many fronts ¨C but military command was not one of them.¡±

    To pile on more pressure - those demonic soldiers were the biggest pain in the ass imaginable. A single one, however untrained they were, posed a significant threat to someone as experienced as me. That gap was going to be even more stark versus the police and civil agencies that chose to stay loyal to the previous King. They could blow them away at the snap of a finger.

    I turned to the man in the know; ¡°Genta, please tell me that there¡¯s an easy way to dispense of his new secret police.¡±

    The look he pulled did not fill me with confidence. He thought about my ask for a moment before explaining what he understood about them.

    ¡°Those subjects are not invincible. They demonstrate increased durability and magical potential, and small-arms fire may prove ineffective, but they are still fundamentally human ¨C with all of the same weaknesses and anatomical features.¡±

    ¡°What you¡¯re suggesting is that cutting them or shooting them is not a fitting solution should we face them in a fight?¡±

    ¡°You could shoot and disable them, but that would require shattering their spinal column and separating their nervous system. It will be hard to do that shooting through their front, especially when their blood congeals so rapidly that it dampens the impact of any injury.¡±

    That didn¡¯t a damn lick of sense. How the hell did their blood congeal that fast? And how were they able to store it in the refrigerator without it becoming useless? He made it sound so simple ¨C but there were a million questions about this Horr blood that he couldn¡¯t answer. It didn¡¯t follow any reasonable set of rules. I had to accept that not following rules was what they did though.

    They existed in the Veil. That was a realm where the normal laws of physics did not apply, and where many dangerous and inhuman creatures resided. If they were capable of greater intelligence I was certain that they would find beings such as ourselves every bit as confounding. Maybe there was an intelligent resident hiding somewhere in there.

    As for targeting their spines, that did make sense. Since the Horr blood was injected into their veins, it was more effective at protecting blood vessels, outside injuries, and ruptured organs. It didn¡¯t matter if the veins in the spine burst, they couldn¡¯t undo damage to the bones and nerves there. My nihility magic would be very effective at targeting those areas.

    ¡°How many of them did they make?¡±

    Genta smiled nervously, ¡°I think Sloan mentioned... two hundred? At least.¡±

    Never mind. There wasn¡¯t enough magic in the world¡¯s atmosphere to kill that many of them.

    ¡°For goodness sake. I may as well leap from the nearest cliff-face and save everyone¡¯s time and effort,¡± I complained, ¡°Where in the good name of the Goddess did they find two hundred willing subjects for this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s rather distressing. The diluted blood showed some type of healing properties ¨C so they pitched it to a variety of monarchist-leaning individuals who were suffering from terminal health conditions. If they die, which they did occasionally, Sloan would assure them that it was a result of poor luck on their part and that taking the injections was better than not.¡±

    Combine that with the fanatics he was already in contact with and a few mercenaries willing to do it for cash, and you could hit two hundred. A new private army that could exercise an outsized level of military force despite their relatively small number.

    ¡°Did you see that happen personally?¡± Frankfort inquired.

    ¡°Not personally. They¡¯d already completed recruiting all the people they needed, but these hallways don¡¯t do a very good job of keeping conversations contained. I heard Sloan speaking at length about a variety of subjects, all of which were the type of turn one¡¯s stomach. He¡¯s surely the type of unscrupulous man that Welt would seek out.¡±

    Genta did not look pleased to recant some of that information to us, and he was putting it into politer terms than Sloan ever would have. There was probably a mass grave somewhere nearby with all of the dead subjects piled up, end to end. They wouldn¡¯t want that getting out.

    He wiped his forehead with a napkin, ¡°Well ¨C my most morbid suggestion for dealing with them is to wait. The blood flows effectively through the body when diluted, but it still gets stuck on the inside of the arteries and valves. When it builds to a certain point, that congelation will starve their body of oxygenated blood and kill them...¡±

    ¡°And how long does it take for someone to die from that?¡± I asked.

    ¡°A few months if they¡¯re lucky. A week if they¡¯re not.¡±

    Veronica shook her head and slammed the door on that idea.

    ¡°Even a week is far too long. Welt will have accounted for that and dispatched them to places where they can cause the most damage in the shortest amount of time. If he gains full control over the military, then he will no longer have need of them. Did he not say where he was going?¡±

    ¡°They made certain that I was out of earshot when they discussed their plans. All I know is that they moved into the city.¡±

    ¡°They must have taken residence with one of his supporters who lives near the Palace. He can keep his head down and direct what they¡¯re doing from the front.¡±

    Frankfort grabbed a pencil and started to make notes, ¡°I know where some of those individuals live from previous investigations. We can start there.¡±

    I nodded; ¡°I¡¯ll leave that to you two. I¡¯m going back to make sure that the others haven¡¯t stumbled down the nearest cliff while my back was turned.¡±

    I was genuinely worried about leaving Samantha and the others alone in enemy territory for long. My paranoia was getting intense, banging against the inside of my skull and demanding that I locate them as soon as possible. They didn¡¯t stop me when I stepped out of the lobby and headed back towards the stairs.

    Claude was waiting for me, posed up against the wall like one of the hard-boiled detectives he loved to read about in the pulp novels he wasted his allowance on. He stepped out into the corridor and blocked my path with a smirk on his face.

    ¡°Well, well, well! Look who¡¯s back.¡±

    ¡°You look very satisfied for a boy who was given all of the answers by somebody else,¡± I groaned.

    ¡°Hey! I was one of the first people who sniffed out who you really were! Professor Prier¡¯s death? I always knew that you had something to do with it.¡±

    ¡°And was that based on solid evidence? Or were you merely casting assertions at me based on your own prejudices?¡±

    ¡°My Dad would say that I¡¯ve got a good instinct for spotting guilty parties.¡±

    ¡°I hope in the name of all that¡¯s good that he applies more process to his investigations than you do.¡±

    He narrowed his gaze and his focus, pushing past my barbs and trying to grasp at some unknowable further truth; ¡°Samantha told me a lot about you.¡±

    ¡°Did she?¡±

    Claude tried to put on a tough-guy detective fa?ade, but there was a huge gulf between the imaginary confrontation in his head and the one he was now walking into by speaking with me alone.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I believe all of it, but Samantha would rather ¡®roll around in pig muck¡¯ than lie to her friends, her words. In the end, my takeaway was that all of this stuff had been implanted into your head via hypnotic suggestions.¡±

    ¡°Hypnotism?¡± I scoffed on instinct. On second thought, it was probably more believable in a world with magic. Adrian had a time-travelling watch in his possession ¨C so was hypnotism really a bridge too far?

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    I couldn¡¯t guess how much Samantha had told Claude of the story. It was possible that he would start to think that she had some kind of self-importance problem if she revealed that the Goddess was involved with us.

    ¡°It¡¯s a promising field of research and debate! There are a dozen thinkers and scientists who are looking into it as we speak.¡±

    ¡°And who do you suppose hypnotized me?¡±

    ¡°The Sturml?ufer.¡±

    ¡°Claude, there¡¯s a real, in-the-flesh intelligence officer in the lobby over there, and she¡¯s been working for the government and royal family for decades. She already told us that there was no such thing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just using their name as a rhetorical example!¡± Claude pled, ¡°WISA, the Sturml?ufer, whatever they want to call themselves ¨C they have a long and sordid history of recruiting children to be deep cover agents. Hypnotism would be the most efficient way to train them in the art of killing.¡±

    ¡°It certainly is no art that I¡¯ve ever heard of. So your theory is that they brainwashed me, trained me to kill, and then dispatched me to the Academy to keep a close eye on all of those influential children?¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that make the most sense? Of course, the nobles would want their children protected. The future of their empires relies on succession.¡±

    ¡°Naturally. There¡¯s only one problem with your theory. Why would they elect to kidnap and train a noble girl to do that? My Father is an extremely important, affluent and influential man. It would be more understandable if they took a young child without a family, like my Mother.¡±

    He tapped the side of his head, ¡°That¡¯s the genius of it! A regular street urchin couldn¡¯t earn a place at the Royal Academy. In order to ensure that they could protect all of the nobles and their interests, they trained a noble to do it all while perfectly blending into their environment.¡±

    My brow quirked. I was surprised that Claude had thought that far ahead, parrying my counter-argument with rhetoric that allowed his theory to stand. Normally he would fold like a house of cards the moment I started poking holes in his narrative. In his eyes ¨C this was a likelier story than Samantha and I being blessed by a mythical religious Goddess.

    Claude did not speak openly about faith or his apparent lack of it. It was still taboo to openly question the existence of the Goddess. Recent events have given me a fresh perspective on the issue, but forcing people to accept her existence without solid evidence was still foolish.

    Organized religious worship was not an aspect of modern Walserian society. There were a lot of coalescing reasons for that being the case. Despite this, belief in the Goddess was still overwhelmingly the most popular creed. It made me ponder if such an outcome would have been possible in an alternate version of Earth¡¯s history, for a religion to lose its form yet continue on regardless.

    I supposed that anything was possible when it came to the minds of men. Why would they give up their religious beliefs for the lack of a dedicated place of worship?

    ¡°I see no reason to argue with you at length about this. The most important parts of the tale have already been revealed to you. I care not for how you rationalize them within your mind.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only here to make sure that you don¡¯t hurt Samantha or Max.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, you think too highly of yourself. What would you do if I planned to harm them?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d try to stop you.¡±

    This was the same problem as with Adrian. Neither of them seemed to get that they would only be hurting themselves by behaving this way. They wouldn¡¯t prove instrumental in saving the day. They would march happily into a dangerous situation where they were ill-suited to be and get killed.

    Was it so hard for them to value their lives as more than sacrificial chips to play when our hand wasn¡¯t looking good? Claude had been holding me up for so long that Adrian wandered up the stairs to see what the conversation was all about.

    ¡°What are you two doing?¡±

    ¡°Nothing,¡± I said, ¡°Claude wanted to have a word with me.¡±

    Some buyer''s remorse spread throughout the group. Saying you want to come along before being confronted by a violent gunfight would make any normal person baulk at going any further. Now that Adrian had been made modest by the actions of his father, Claude was the sole source of worthless bravado from my circle of acquaintances.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like standing around in this place. Maybe going out there and burying them really will make me feel better,¡± he murmured.

    It was a haunting environment. A desolate, brutalist structure where all of the comfort had long since been stripped away. Sound travelled far and the howl of the wind outside was your only consistent companion. In that lull during the conversation, something caught my ear. I could hear footsteps approaching from behind.

    Adrian was still standing at the top of the stairs, while Claude was with me in the middle of the hallway. I turned to face the source of the noise and felt my heart skip a beat. Standing there with his shoulders hunched and his teeth bared was a pale-skinned man with one arm held outstretched.

    ¡°Get down!¡±

    I pulled Claude by his collar with such force that he almost tumbled onto the floor, dragging him with a loud squeal into the nearest doorway as the calamitous spell he was casting came our way. A deafening bang echoed, rattling the shattered glass windows and flinging shrapnel like a detonating fragmentation grenade. The miscellaneous waste left on the floor was deadly at that speed.

    We fell through and onto the ground, barely missing the shockwave. The dust and debris filled the air and caused us both to cough. Where the hell had this asshole been hiding the entire time - was he on the damn toilet while all of his friends were getting killed?

    Claude was having a panic attack. He slid down the wall and covered his head with his arms. I pulled my pistol and glanced back through the corridor, spotting the assassin hiding in one of the doorways, using the heavy concrete walls as cover. Shooting him wasn¡¯t going to do any good from here ¨C and I couldn¡¯t accurately snap his spine in two at long range either.

    ¡°Holy shit! Holy shit!¡± Claude hissed.

    Not helpful whatsoever!

    ¡°Claude, move your butt before he charges us!¡±

    He wasn¡¯t listening to me, and his ears were still ringing from the volume of the magical blast that he had fired out way. I had to be the one to take the initiative before he came barrelling through the door and killed us both. Easier said than done when he was on alert.

    I fired two shots in his direction, forcing him back. He was concerned about getting injured ¨C unlike the other lunatics who attacked the funeral.

    ¡°Adrian! Are you still alive over there?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± he yelled in return.

    ¡°Get down into the basement!¡±

    He didn¡¯t respond. I had to assume that he was going to follow my orders and get out of the way. Even being near one of these souped-up assassins was dangerous. The immense amount of collateral damage they caused meant that bystanders were in the blast zone even when they thought they were safe.

    Another spell rocked the concrete and steel structure of the building. He was trying to blow his way through the wall to kill us. If it were a more sophisticated spell, then perhaps he would have succeeded. None of the assassins had formal magical training. That would require registering their name onto the list, and finding a tutor willing to do it under the table was almost impossible.

    They relied on raw strength instead. The magic-infused Horr blood provided them with a battery that could dispense huge energy attacks that would kill any other person. A lot of that energy was dissipated into the air because they didn¡¯t know how to narrow their focus and direct the blast. But even if they could find a mage willing to teach them ¨C they would not know how to cast a spell like this, nor would they feel safe doing so.

    I took the window of opportunity that presented itself to leave my hiding place, moving backwards through the hallway while firing back at the man around the corner. Still fearful of the agony that came with being struck with a bullet, he reacted as if each one had the potential to kill him. It was a natural instinct that took a lot of illicit drugs to suppress, and there were no bonus points for guessing what Welt did to the men who attacked the gang funeral.

    I hid behind one of the old reception desks, waiting to hear his footsteps approaching my position. Veronica had undoubtedly heard the chaos unfolding, but the building was so large that it would take a minute to reach us, and that was enough time to be the difference between life and death.

    I heard him. He was coming up on my position, but my diversionary tactics were proven ineffective. He summoned forth another great wave of magic and threw it into the room with me, tossing chairs, ripping them from the metal brackets in the floor, and flinging my lightweight body across the room and into a crumpled heap by the other exit.

    I bit down on my tongue and tried not to indicate how much that hurt ¨C which it did, very much so. He was quick to move up on me with his hands pointed at me like a pair of loaded guns.

    ¡°This one¡¯s for the boys!¡±

    More footsteps were converging on my position, but the person who came to my rescue was not Veronica or Frankfort. Adrian skidded around the corner with a pilfered shotgun clutched in his arms. He hoisted the heavy thing up into the air and switched off the safety, training his aim firmly on the man¡¯s back.

    Adrian, wide-eyed and carried entirely by circumstance, pulled the trigger of the stolen shotgun and fired a shell into the assassin¡¯s back. Blood and smoke erupted from where the shot landed. He staggered forwards closer to me but stood back up and started to turn in his direction.

    Adrian couldn¡¯t move his legs. He hadn¡¯t even killed the guy ¨C yet he was now experiencing exactly what I warned him about earlier. The weight of shooting another human being was not one to be taken as a joke. In that second he was embroiled in an internal debate about whether it was a good idea to try and protect Claude and me by shooting at him.

    I scrambled back to my feet and charged at him from behind, intent on taking advantage of the distraction that Adrian had caused. He was too slow to stop me from getting behind him and making a last-ditch effort to finish him off.

    I pushed my palm against the back of his neck and summoned a burst of nihilistic energy. The bones and nerves in his neck were eviscerated, the molecules and atoms scattering to the four corners of the physical space we inhabited at such a high velocity that the explosion was invisible to the human eye.

    His demonic blood was no match for the control centre of his body being severed. His neck lolled to one side and he crumbled to the floor, unable to move his arms or legs. Soon after that he stopped breathing and died.

    Adrian was frozen ¨C he was still aiming the shotgun in my direction.

    ¡°Point that somewhere else, please!¡±

    His arms slackened and he finally relaxed his body. A look of distress emerged and he dumped the shell before discarding the gun onto the ground. He shivered, unable to look away from the bloodied corpse that was lying at my feet.

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    He stomped the ground. His shot to the back was not the killing blow. It didn¡¯t even slow him down, but that was an injury that he delivered to another person in a life or death situation, and that was enough to elicit a similar feeling in him to taking his life.

    ¡°I¡¯m not gloating, but this is what I was warning you about.¡±

    ¡°I feel sick. You do this to all of these people?¡±

    ¡°If the situation arises, yes.¡±

    Veronica and Frankfort soon arrived on the scene, with Veronica scowling at the sight of a previously unseen straggler.

    ¡°Where the bloody hell was this prick hiding?¡± she spat, ¡°Was he on the toilet the whole time?¡±

    I dusted myself off and tried to work out the kink in my leg, ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m fine!¡±

    I should have listened to Samantha. I couldn¡¯t run anywhere near as fast as I usually could with my injury. That forced me into a bad position in the room and let him hit me with the spell. If I was the slightest bit faster ¨C I could have hidden further in and avoided being caught in the blast.

    There were almost two hundred of these assholes waiting for us...

    I wasn¡¯t a betting man, but those odds sounded pretty damn awful to me.

    Adrian stared at him for a moment, recalling the many lessons we¡¯d taken at the Academy. His anxiety about shooting another living person was supplanted with another thought, one that made him chill to the bone.

    ¡°Welt¡¯s going to let these folks run rampant in the city? They could kill thousands of people! They already did that when they attacked that funeral. Ripped an entire street up stone by stone, brick by brick, and destroyed a row of houses.¡±

    The atmosphere was grim.

    ¡°Not if we do something about it,¡± Veronica assured him, ¡°Avoiding direct confrontation will be the best option for us. It¡¯ll minimize exposure to these assassins and protect civilians from being caught in the fighting.¡±

    ¡°Are you any good at that?¡±

    Veronica was less forthcoming about that, ¡°Ah. While WISA agents are generally expected to act with subtlety, we were not meant to disguise ourselves and sneak into places without legal authority. We were ultimately officers of the law. Even before the place was reformed ¨C I never got assigned to handling a dirty job like that. They thought I was too morally upright to ask.¡±

    I leaned against a concrete pillar and stroked my chin. Those words sounded ominously familiar to my ear. A subtle approach, one which involved removing pieces of their command structure one by one, without them even noticing we were there. In short ¨C they needed a hitman.

    ¡°I can do it,¡± I revealed.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I can do it. I can get into their presence and make the problem go away. You and Frankfort are extremely experienced in collecting information and sourcing equipment. We can use that. If you give me what I need, then we can start collapsing Welt¡¯s command structure, and hopefully, the panic we cause will fray his coalition at the seams.¡±

    Veronica shook her head; ¡°I¡¯m not putting you into that situation-¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what you think, Veronica. You can agree or disagree but I¡¯ll do it regardless. This entire country is going to go to hell if we let Welt get away with this, and there won¡¯t be a safe corner for anyone to hide in when that comes to pass.¡±

    The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Claude poked his head through the destroyed door to see what the argument was about, having regained his senses.

    Frankfort sighed, ¡°I¡¯d be a rank hypocrite to decry using a young girl as an agent after my history with the agency ¨C but my question is if you¡¯re capable of handling that.¡±

    I smiled, ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry Ma¡¯am. I¡¯m very good at getting into places I shouldn¡¯t be.¡±

 Chapter 150

    We had missed the ideal window in which to attack Welt and his cabal. That meant that taking the slow and steady approach would be the best. Normally I would have rushed to cut him off before he could entangle himself with political institutions and the police and military ¨C but it was too late now. We had to plan our next moves carefully and with intent.

    Ekkehard Van Walser had been revealed as the new King. I didn¡¯t see the headlines, but I did witness the huge throng of very angry people on the streets of the twin cities. They had signs and banners and were surrounding the royal palace and parliament in force.

    ¡°Bloody hell,¡± Adrian said under the noise, ¡°The entire city is out here!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised that this protest has remained peaceful. Half of the population of Walser is armed to the teeth, after all. They must be hoping that they¡¯ll step aside without having to resort to violence.¡±

    ¡°Any chance of that happening?¡±

    ¡°Not a sliver of hope for that. Welt is not going to turn back after pouring all of his efforts into achieving this. He¡¯s a few months away from solidifying himself as the shadow King of this country. He¡¯ll try to ride out the storm for as long as possible and hope the people get tired of protesting.¡±

    Adrian groaned, ¡°If only Welt agreed to take me on as a member of his little gang. I could leak all the information you want and he¡¯d be none the wiser.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re here to do. Welt may have reasons to turn you down at the moment, but what do you think that the people under him are thinking right now?¡±

    ¡°They... They would be more than happy to have me on their side?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Jonas, Greenblatt and Vincent are partners in his scheme, but only because they stand to benefit from it. Greed begets more greed in turn ¨C and they¡¯ll desire to get more from their part of the bargain. It just so happens that a young, ambitious noble with a huge business empire is looking for a side to join.¡±

    We were both overlooking the action from the second floor of a downtown restaurant. There were hundreds of people crammed onto the small road that led towards the palace, with the crowd getting even denser the closer you got to the fenced-off building. It was highly unlikely that Ekkehard was actually there at the moment.

    I was going to have to rely on Adrian and the others to handle some of the groundwork. Since they were so insistent on coming along and ¡®helping¡¯ with dealing with this issue ¨C then I may as well take advantage of that and put them into places where they weren¡¯t directly in danger.

    Welt must have known that I was the one responsible for foiling his plan at the Academy by now. They may have run away with their tail between their legs, but at least one of them would tell him the entire story. The only factor that remained unknown was whether he believed it or not.

    I¡¯d gotten significant mileage out of people¡¯s incredulity before. Maria Walston-Carter was a well-behaved and well-bred girl from an influential family, to profess that she was a murderer was madness to any outside observer.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be upfront with you, we may have to kill them.¡±

    Adrian¡¯s face remained impassive. His mind was still back at the tower, recanting the moment he pulled the trigger and unloaded a shell filled with lead pellets into the back of that assassin.

    ¡°Is it okay to say that in a public place?¡±

    I looked around the room. We were the only two people sitting on the second floor.

    ¡°Are you kidding?¡±

    Adrian shrugged, ¡°You never know! The person sitting at the table under the floorboards might have heard your voice leak through right then. What if this entire building is poorly insulated?¡±

    And I thought that I was the paranoid one.

    ¡°Nobody is going to hear us, and even if they do they¡¯ll discard it as their mind playing tricks on them. I want to know if you are open to following my orders with this in mind. Would you be willing to help me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already here, and I¡¯m not going to be the one doing the deed.¡±

    Adrian was being evasive. He knew what answer I was looking for when I asked the question ¨C but he was not willing to give me it. Denial was the worst response I could receive. I didn¡¯t want Adrian to force himself into a position he couldn¡¯t stomach, and he shifted in his chair when he noticed that my gaze was sharpening.

    ¡°Adrian. I want to hear a yes or no answer.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t offer a simple answer like that!¡± he snapped, echoing his old irritable personality once again, ¡°It all depends on what¡¯s going on at the time. I only stepped in back at the tower because I was worried about you getting killed by that bloke, and I didn¡¯t even give him the final blow!¡±

    ¡°Are you afraid that I¡¯ll be angry with you if you say no? The reason I brought this up originally was because I wanted to respect your boundaries. My intent is not to push you or anyone else into a situation you are not comfortable with.¡±

    Adrian had a face like thunder. He leaned back in his seat and looked towards the ceiling. After a minute of contemplation, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the timepiece. I could feel the energy being emitted from within, and a brief expansion of my senses revealed that the crystal inside was now fully charged. On top of that ¨C he had several leftover vials of the Horr blood stuffed into a wad of tissues.

    He toyed with the mechanism, popping open the front cover and closing it again.

    Click, click, click.

    He placed it down on the table, halfway between us.

    ¡°I think it¡¯d be better for you to keep a hold of this.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I charged it using some of that blood we found. It¡¯s good for another trip back into the past ¨C and you¡¯ll get more use out of it than I can.¡±

    That explained why he decided to bring even more of it with him, although the lifespan of those samples would be left up in the air now that they weren¡¯t being refrigerated. Did it work like normal blood, or did it possess a special property that kept it fresh for an unusually long time?

    Having two of me running around causing trouble did sound like a better use for the watch than any other ideas I could come up with. I reached out and took it into my hand. I would need to find a nice, isolated spot in a convenient location to set the anchor point. Hitting it every day would drain the battery again.

    Adrian tried to push past my question; ¡°What are we doing here? Your Mother didn¡¯t tell me what kind of plan you had drawn up in there.¡±

    I pulled a small piece of paper from my pocket and unfurled it. A handful of scrawled notes delved into the reasons we were targeting our first man.

    ¡°Micah Greenblatt is the ¡®low-hanging fruit¡¯ of the group supporting Welt, but he¡¯s also extremely important.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a blowhard who already thinks they¡¯ve won. Welt and the others are being cautious. There are groups and mechanisms within Walser who would be happy to take them out. Micah believes that those groups have already been cowed by their sudden takeover of the government.¡±

    ¡°Okay. So what are we going to do about him?¡±

    ¡°Veronica told me that WISA already had a file on the man before Jones took over. There was a lot of trouble swirling around him because he was always dallying with... ladies of the night.¡±

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Adrian gave me a dry look, ¡°Prostitutes.¡±

    ¡°Yes, if you want to be so bold, he would spend a huge amount of money on hiring them for a variety of purposes. The problem for him was that they had cared little for what sensitive information they were leaking to anyone willing to listen. The parties he threw and the favours he offered were an open secret, and that led to certain individuals trying to blackmail him. Before they emptied out the cabinet and burnt those folders ¨C Frankfort claimed that he was moving a large amount of money to them again, seemingly to host a lavish party so they could rub elbows with some wavering nobles.¡±

    ¡°And you want me to try and make contact with him.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Welt may reason that he has no need to court you now that his plan is in action, or he may desire to strengthen his position. Micah will have his own ambitions. Either way, we can use that to get closer to the group.¡±

    Adrian cupped his cheeks with both palms and stared at me while he considered the plan. He would be responsible for playing the part and fitting in with Welt¡¯s friends, convincing them that he would be more than happy to throw the might of his business empire behind their new vision for Walser.

    He was also slightly worried that Micah would try to surround him with hired women to try and woo him. Adrian was a lot of things, but being confident with women was not one of them.

    ¡°All I have to do is get close and feed you the information you need, correct?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. It should be simple for you to command terms about when and where you would like to meet, and we can set up and keep an eye on you without him knowing. I can teach you some tricks to get what you want out of him.¡±

    Adrian sighed, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. You¡¯ve been using them on me for the past three years.¡±

    ¡°If you could tell - why did you always fall for them?¡±

    Adrian grumbled under his breath and waved me away. The waitress finally reappeared from the bottom floor and gave us our food. Adrian had ordered a piece of cake, as usual.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± he declared, before swallowing a large chunk of it.

    ¡°Okay. Let us talk details...¡±

    <hr>

    Locked tightly away in one of the designated safehouses found in the city ¨C Welt stewed by the window, peering through the closed curtains and onto the street below. A small group of protestors were making their way towards the main avenue, where thousands of furious citizens had gathered to protest the suspension of parliament and the institution of a new King.

    The unforeseen issue that Welt had run headfirst into was that many of the monarchists were torn between their unreserved support for revoking the treaty and their immense distaste for a third-rung royal in the form of Ekkehard Van Walser. He did not have a direct claim to the throne, with the former King¡¯s sons being passed over in favour of him.

    Welt understood that Ekkehard was a controversial pick ¨C but he did not anticipate the reaction from the general populace to be so negative. The newspapers which weren¡¯t on the take already savaged him as feckless, dim and overly ambitious on the front pages, and they were having an impact on their perception of him. The very last thing Welt needed was for people to perceive him as weak.

    After all ¨C the entire purpose of this scheme was to restore the esteemed position of the King as head of state! It was a statement to their rivals both domestic and international that they were not a force to be trifled with. A collection of those newspapers had piled up on his reading desk, some torn to shreds in a fit of anger.

    ¡®USELESS EKKEHARD DETHRONES RIGHTFUL KING VAN WALSER¡¯

    ¡°What an ungrateful lot!¡± Welt complained, ¡°We¡¯re saving them from another two decades of rot and apathy from those fools in parliament ¨C yet now they pour onto the streets to protest? Where was this same sense of anger when we were driven down this treacherous path?¡±

    The isolation was getting to him. He couldn¡¯t risk showing his face with so many people out for blood, and there were indications that his previous hiding place had already been hit by a group of unknown assailants. Someone was on his tail. The home he was in was lavish by most standards, but it was still an unpleasant experience to be cooped up inside for weeks on end.

    This only served to feed Welt¡¯s monstrous ego. He was suffering under the yoke of great oppression for the sake of his countrymen! In his eyes, he was every bit as brave as the men fighting on the frontlines for Walserian freedom. Every second spent locked up inside was another drop of blood spilt on the battlefield.

    There was a knock on the door.

    ¡°Come in!¡±

    Bernard Jones, the new head man in charge of WISA, stepped into the room and locked the door behind him. There were a lot of new security protocols to abide by. Getting to see Welt in person was becoming increasingly difficult.

    ¡°I¡¯ve compiled a full report on what happened at the tower and the academy.¡±

    Welt threw up his hands, ¡°I already know what happened! Those worthless cowards blamed it all on one of the students! They said she killed at least three of them during the takeover. I can¡¯t believe that they¡¯d even offer me such a pathetic excuse!¡±

    Bernard nodded, eager to please his new boss.

    He continued, ¡°One of them suggested that she might have been a member of the Sturml?ufer. Ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°That would be extremely unlikely, sir.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I assumed as such.¡±

    ¡°After all ¨C the prominence of that program was already severely reduced before the signing of the compromise treaty. It was time-consuming and expensive to train them from a young age, and they had a significantly higher mortality rate than an adult agent, not to mention the lack of perceived utility they provided as spies.¡±

    ¡°Did you know about the scheme before you became the new department head?¡±

    ¡°Not the fine details. That was kept a secret even to experienced agents such as myself. The other fatal flaw in the theory is that Maria Walston-Carter is a teenager and the daughter of a noble. She¡¯s outside of the correct time period and they only sought to recruit those without families.¡±

    He left the beige folder on the dining table and offered the short version of the story. One of the three men had died from an apparent cardiac arrest, and two more were shot dead during a confrontation in the garden. The group dispatched the control the academy fled out of fear of a police siege. The attack at the tower was similar, using a matching calibre of bullet. The jury was still out on how one of the enhanced secret police had been killed in that fight.

    ¡°I knew it was the right time to move away from there,¡± Welt murmured.

    ¡°Aside from a handful of leftover materials, there was not much to recover. The men back at the office are running a risk assessment and interviewing the people who were stationed there before the attack.¡±

    ¡°Just make sure that it doesn¡¯t happen again! The last thing we need is for me or anyone else to get killed by those traitors.¡±

    Bernard smiled ¨C completely out of his depth and unsure of how he could stop that from happening.

    ¡°Of course, sir. I¡¯ll get everyone working security right away.¡±

    The number of agents killed during the firefight at the office remained unsaid. Jones had received a black eye on the very first day of his leadership, with Frankfort and Gladwell busting out of the building and taking down some of his personal lackeys in the process. Infuriatingly they disappeared into thin air soon after, with no eyewitnesses capable of placing where they escaped to.

    In short, WISA was being stretched thin, fighting fires across the country and trying to stamp down unrest before it could get out of control. Welt and his friends didn¡¯t trust the police to look after them, so it had to be WISA agents or loyal members of the military on guard duty.

    ¡°Is there anything else? Sir Vincent and Greenblatt have been expressing their concerns about the protests near the palace.¡±

    Welt scoffed, ¡°There¡¯s nothing to worry about. All of the important pieces are in safe places, and these feckless commoners will grow tired of it soon enough. They have jobs to get back to. They were happy to sit back and allow Walser to rot from the inside out ¨C so I very much doubt that they¡¯ll be willing to take serious action now that we¡¯re fixing it.¡±

    Bernard had a different perspective on the problem, but he couldn¡¯t air those concerns without upsetting a man who was clearly walking a fine line between triumph and madness.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Stay safe, sir.¡±

    He turned and left, each wooden floorboard sending a loud whine through the apartment. One of his officers, a man named Basan, was waiting for him in the corridor near the stairs. When Bernard was certain that none of the guards on duty could hear them speak, he gave his frank impressions of the situation to him.

    ¡°That man doesn¡¯t have the faintest idea of how dangerous this is.¡±

    ¡°What did he say?¡± Basan asked.

    ¡°Some nonsense about letting it all blow over. I¡¯ve got reports flooding into my office stating that certain groups are already armed and beginning to organize, not to mention that attack on the tower. I bet Frankfort and Gladwell were involved. It was clean. Exactly the kind of precision work they¡¯re known for. When has this damned country ever allowed change to occur unpunished?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s going to cut you loose if he hears that.¡±

    ¡°I know. The only thing we can do now is hold on for dear life and see where it ends up. It¡¯s our job to take care of the chaos, and Welt is the only man willing to go this far to see our collective goal through to the end.¡±

    They left through the back door of the building, watched at all times of day by a dedicated doorman. Nobody entered or exited the building without him knowing ¨C and he kept a thorough record of every face, name and time of visit.

    ¡°Micah said that he wants more agents assigned to his next party.¡±

    Bernard glowered at the overcast sky above.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that idiot know that we have better places to assign those men?¡±

    But the problem was that he¡¯d signed himself and the entire agency up to be the personal guard dogs of Welt and his supporters. Far from a group of selfless monarchists, they were the exact image of the type of parasitic socialite that revolted the lower classes. They were only going along with Welt because they saw money in being on the winning side.

    Bernard was not the ideal pragmatist. Welt liked him because he was a vicious defender of the monarchy and a staunch anti-republican. At the same time, he was a man who grew up in a middle-class background and saturated with messaging decrying the greed and avarice of the nobility. They may have been essential to Welt¡¯s power base, but Bernard would not shed a tear for them meeting an unfortunate end.

    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mention it before because of the meeting with Welt.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. How many do we have on standby?¡±

    ¡°...None.¡±

    ¡°Then find a couple of lollygaggers in the office and tell them to look tough. If he complains, tell him to hire some private guards instead of begging for scraps from us. We have bigger problems than keeping him and his courtesans safe.¡±

    ¡°Will do.¡±

    Bernard kept his eyes on the prize. He was certain that Frankfort and Gladwell would come for him eventually. They wanted payback for what happened at the agency, and they were as loyal to the rule of law as anyone else he knew. He couldn¡¯t let paranoia consume him at such a crucial time.

    He just had to keep fighting these fires until it was all over and done with.

 Chapter 151

    Micah Greenblatt was almost too eager to meet with Adrian after Maria assisted in firing off a short letter to him. Within the day he already had a reply in his hands naming a time and place. Maria didn¡¯t have time to make plans yet ¨C but she insisted that going to meet with him would be good for setting the groundwork.

    What Adrian was fishing for were hints that their front was not so united, and an invitation to one of the lively parties that Micah liked to hold with his noble friends out of the sight of the press. Maria gave him a crash course on what to say and how to act and assured him that she was going to be nearby during the discussion.

    It was a revealing conversation to be sure, but it didn¡¯t do much to fill him with any confidence when it came to sitting down with the man and trying to use all of the tricks she was teaching him.

    Regardless of how he felt ¨C he had already agreed to do his best to help out without shooting a gun. Within the hour he was sitting across from Micah inside of a private club on the outskirts of the city. It was the most secretive building he could find on short notice.

    Micah was a bloated figure, with a thick moustache and mutton chops running down each side of his face. Adrian shook his hand firmly and smiled. He showed him to a small table away from the windows. Adrian spotted three different guards watching all of the entrances into the building. How the hell was Maria going to follow him into here?

    ¡°It¡¯s so nice to hear from you, Mister Roderro. I was starting to feel that you had become as elusive as a half-hawk!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been very busy reorganizing everything and getting to grips with leading the charge, as you can imagine. I appreciate your concern. I decided that it was time to immerse myself in the full responsibilities of my position, and that means speaking with my peers.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve chosen the right man to be your introduction. I know a lot of names ¨C all of them good people who can get what you need in return for some money or a favour of their own.¡±

    Adrian nodded along with him; ¡°I did speak with Welt once before, but I just so happened to find myself dropped into the midst of a violent firefight.¡±

    ¡°You were there? I heard about it from Welt, but I didn¡¯t know that.¡±

    ¡°Yes. The police, a group of assassins, and another gang I wasn¡¯t familiar with arrived on the scene and tore up the entire block! I¡¯d never seen anything like it in my life. I almost got shot. Afterwards, Welt went into hiding, I presume from the police, and we never finished the discussion we were having.¡±

    Micah smiled, ¡°I can take his place for the time being. He was very enthused about having you as a friend.¡±

    It took every bit of restraint Adrian had not to make a smart-ass comment about Welt¡¯s definition of the word. It was all self-interest and keeping up appearances, and even Micah was intent on doing the same as they spoke. Welt wanted his money and influence, and he was willing to say anything to get it.

    The unknown factor that Maria warned him about was whether Micah had informed Welt about what was going on. It was possible that he would go behind his back to try and start his own little faction inside of the larger group, which he could use to leverage Welt for more in return for his contributions.

    ¡°Are we safe to have these types of discussions? I hope there isn¡¯t another police raid waiting outside.¡±

    Micah chuckled, ¡°I can assure you that no such raid will occur here. Besides, Welt already has the police and military under his thumb. It¡¯ll all be over and done with soon, and we can go back to our usual routine.¡±

    Adrian kept his mind alert and started to use some of the rhetorical techniques that Maria had taught him. First, bait the hook ¨C offer him a perspective that he agrees with to loosen his mouth a little.

    ¡°Have you seen those protests in the cities? It¡¯s not the ideal environment in which to do business, that is certain. I believe that even the managers are out holding banners and shouting meaningless slogans.¡±

    ¡°Too right. Welt always loves to complain about the lower classes becoming educated, but I disagree, the issue is not that they¡¯re seeking to better their own lot in life. I like ambitious people. The problem is that the civil war taught them all the wrong lessons, that every change to the working order of the country has to be paid in blood. They¡¯re overreacting.¡±

    ¡°Is Ekkehard going to run the entire government now? I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening at the palace.¡±

    ¡°No, no. Ekkehard is not a detail-oriented man. Welt suggested some names to take the places of the old ministers, and they¡¯ll handle the day-to-day. He wanted to maintain as much continuity as possible before they start making changes.¡±

    Maria was right about that. Welt was going to push all of his pet projects and preferences through Ekkehard and essentially become Walser¡¯s real ruler, pulling his strings from the shadows. The viability of that plan had taken a serious hit when the warrant for his arrest went out.

    Adrian never paid any mind to the politics of the royal of parliamentary variety. He was a teenager. He could firmly state that not a single student at the Royal Academy had a complete picture of what was going on outside of the newspaper headlines they saw by osmosis. Despite having a huge impact on the direction of the country, the political drama wasn¡¯t scandalous enough to get passed around.

    ¡°I¡¯m not in any position to offer my advice on all of that. My first concern is keeping the gears turning at all of our factories and the like. It¡¯s been a harsh lesson in how immature I was just a year ago.¡±

    ¡°I feel you¡¯ve handled it admirably. I certainly wouldn¡¯t want to be in your shoes at that age. I wouldn¡¯t know where to start!¡±

    Second step; offer some compromising information that wasn¡¯t important to create a more candid exchange. Adrian had plenty of that to go around, mostly revolving around the incidents with his Father and Uncle.

    ¡°What¡¯s clear to me is that the way my Father behaved was less than ideal. I made my position on the issue clear before he even initiated that stupid plan of his, but as usual, he was so occupied with what he felt was best for me that he didn¡¯t listen. Honestly, our family is already so wealthy that we don¡¯t have to lift a finger if we don¡¯t want to. Goddess only knows why he was so determined to land a marriage arrangement through underhanded methods.¡±

    Micah nodded, ¡°Hm. ¡®Underhanded¡¯ is perhaps minimizing the severity of what he did. I¡¯m not going to pretend that all of our hands are clean, but it is possible to attain great success without resorting to plans that land one in immediate danger of being sent to prison.¡±

    ¡°The point is ¨C you don¡¯t have to sugar-coat it for me. I want to ensure that everything keeps ticking along smoothly, and I¡¯m willing to do what it takes to make that happen. I can worry about expanding or being ambitious once I¡¯m settled in.¡±

    ¡°A wise choice. I don¡¯t assume that your old man taught you much about how business is really done outside of balancing books and assigning people to do the hard jobs. In the real world ¨C there are a lot of other factors to consider.¡±

    ¡°Like bribery?¡± Adrian replied dryly.

    Micah laughed with a harsh rattle, ¡°Exactly. Like bribery. Some people in parliament turn their noses up and get their knickers in a twist, but they all do the same. If you wish to get anywhere in Walser, you need to know the right people, and that does not always involve slipping them some money.¡±

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Indeed. Micah had seen a lot of success in prying them open with alcohol and women. He could say that it was a favour to his friends, and hold it over them as blackmail if they started to get cold feet about being associated with him. The wife wouldn¡¯t be too happy with them if they found out.

    Adrian sat tensely in his chair and listened to Micah prattle on for almost ten minutes uninterrupted about all of the techniques he used to get what he wanted out of people. What struck him was the casual psychopathy of the conversation. Micah was in so deep that he did not see people¡¯s perspective on what he was doing.

    To Micah ¨C tricking others, blackmailing them, or outright bribing them with alcohol, gifts and prostitutes was as natural as breathing, and he convinced himself that everyone else in the business was doing the same, so it was only fair for him to level the playing field in turn. Adrian could see multiple layers of defence that he erected to keep up that illusion.

    Was this the type of man who his Father wanted him to become?

    For all of his faults, his pride, his short temper, and his sense of inferiority ¨C Adrian couldn¡¯t stand the idea of becoming a man like this. The standard he held himself to was higher than that, and that was why his Father¡¯s and Uncle¡¯s respective betrayals stung him. The foundational concept of noble society, that they were successful because of their virtue and intelligence, seemed weaker and weaker by the second.

    Maria saw through him like a window. She could smell his cravenness from a mile away, with a single glance, and already had a plan to make him sing. Micah must have known about what happened to his Uncle. Micah was winding down and returning to the subject of the present instability. Adrian took his chance.

    The third step; profess ignorance and make them think that they can exploit you.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened to my Uncle, but it speaks to the lawlessness of this country at the moment that he could be shot dead in cold blood like that. The gunman even hit my friend¡¯s brother - he¡¯s counting his luck that he survived such grievous injuries.¡±

    The expression that Micah made was almost laughable in signalling what he was really thinking. Adrian was forced to accept that reading other people was a lot easier than he first believed. He was like a fox being let loose in a hen house, and not the type of hen house that Micah was usually seen visiting.

    ¡°What a horrible thing that was,¡± he said with barely restrained glee. He didn¡¯t have to worry about Adrian suspecting that they were involved with his Uncle¡¯s death, after all.

    ¡°I feel that everyone will see that instability is not inevitable and calm down, but to lose a close family member is hard to swallow. I have to wonder why he was killed.¡±

    ¡°A lot of the common folk see our affluence and feel that there¡¯s no risk to our lives. Certainly, if one were to take their money and lock themselves inside of their manor, they could live until their elder years with no worries, but confining yourself to a prison of your own making is not a good way to live.¡±

    ¡°What do you suggest I do? I¡¯ve been having thoughts like that since it happened.¡±

    ¡°We have an opportunity that seldom arises for those of lesser means, Adrian. We have the money and power to make a mark on the direction of Walser, and the wider world outside of our borders. The thing that almost every noble I know desires is to be regarded in esteem for a grand project of their making.¡±

    That was what this was all about. Welt and Micah and the rest of them didn¡¯t care one bit about doing what was best for the country. They could not accept that all of their predictions of doom had not come to pass, and rather than moving on they wanted to drag everyone else along with their collective fantasies.

    What they wanted could not be purchased with money, not directly. They wanted to become immortalized in the collective memory of the nation as a whole, regardless of how those in the future would perceive them and their actions. To have their names ascribed to public institutions and streets, or statues constructed, or even simply to become a footnote in a historical document describing the events of this tumultuous time.

    For the men who already possessed everything ¨C what else was there for them to desire more than to occupy a small space of Walser¡¯s collective memory? They were like his Father. They were too focused on cementing some type of nebulous legacy to consider the harm they would do in the process.

    Adrian swallowed the disgust he felt and smiled like Maria taught him.

    ¡°That sounds like a better use of my time than filling out paperwork.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s better for everyone too. Redeveloping slum areas of the cities, constructing new railways to power our industry, and funding research into bold new fields and technologies. We are working for the betterment of mankind. It¡¯s only fair that we see due respect offered for our part in making it happen.¡±

    Adrian moved in for the proverbial kill.

    ¡°I¡¯d be more than happy to continue my previous discussions with Welt about working together. Evidently, there¡¯s a lot on his plate at the moment ¨C but I would like to offer my assistance in the near future. Perhaps you can show me some tricks of the trade in return?¡±

    Micah nodded, ¡°Gladly. I¡¯ll make sure that Welt knows about your offer. He¡¯s cooped up at the moment, keeping his head down, Goddess knows what those protesters would do if they found him.¡±

    They¡¯d hang him from the palace balcony by the neck until he died, Adrian presumed.

    The meeting was not over yet. Adrian settled in and tried to remind himself that the hardest part of the process was done with. Now he could needle Micah for whatever information he could get his hands on.

    <hr>

    ¡°...And that¡¯s everything that Greenblatt told me,¡± Adrian concluded. Me, Veronica, Frankfort and Samantha were all gathered around the table at our new base of operations to listen to his report.

    ¡°He has a big mouth,¡± Veronica commented, ¡°Did he honestly spill all of those compromising details on your first meeting?¡±

    ¡°He did. He said that Welt¡¯s hiding somewhere here in the city, and he even corroborated the story about those demonic assassins he created. They¡¯ve all become very confident now that they¡¯ve taken over the government. They think nothing can touch them.¡±

    ¡°It sounds to me like he¡¯s become a paranoid loon. He only takes meetings by appointment and won¡¯t leave his hiding place. Bernard Jones must know where he is. He¡¯s been taking care of his personal business this entire time.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°But is getting to Jones the easiest path available to us? He¡¯s going to be surrounded by other WISA agents at all times of day, and he¡¯ll recognize you two the moment you try to get to him, so a subtle approach will be difficult.¡±

    It sounded like Micah and Jones were butting heads. Micah was the opposite of Welt, putting his name into the headlines and refusing to scale back on his usual routine of partying and schmoozing with the Walserian elite. He kept demanding more security for his events rather than cancelling them and waiting for the heat to blow over. Jones did not have the men required to deploy them to be his personal bodyguards.

    Was it worth picking Micah off at this moment in time? He was an important card in Welt¡¯s hand ¨C but only insofar as providing him with money and support from a group of his friends. If we killed him or made him squeal, how much information could we get out of it? There was no point going after him if it didn¡¯t open a path to Welt.

    We could spend weeks shaking trees to try and get fresh leads on where he was, but every second that passed allowed him to entrench his cabal even deeper into the government, military and civil society.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to see how much more Micah knows about their plans,¡± Frankfort muttered.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you usually the decisive ones?¡± Samantha sighed.

    ¡°This is life or death, little miss. You should never rush headlong into danger when you have the opportunity to consider your next steps carefully. You wouldn¡¯t want to do something silly,¡± she continued ¨C her eyes purposefully locking on me from across the table.

    She was still a tad salty about how I evaded her questioning before. She was the person best positioned to explain how and why I was not connected to WISA¡¯s long defunct child soldier program, but that meant she needed an alternate explanation that matched with what she knew.

    Like everyone else who tried, she would find it an impossible task without also knowing that I was blessed by the Goddess of this world. She did not buy my claim that I learnt all of it from shooting competitions where people lined up to fire at clay plates and captured birds.

    ¡°This party isn¡¯t going to be child friendly, is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No. He didn¡¯t even invite me to it, he just mentioned it in passing,¡± Adrian revealed, ¡°But he did ask me to attend an event he¡¯s hosting to celebrate the opening of one of his new factories. He¡¯s confident that none of the protesters know that he¡¯s involved with the coup.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s brave, I¡¯ll give him that.¡±

    It sounded like a good opportunity to put pressure on one of the links in their operation. When an opportunity presented itself ¨C it would be foolish to pass on it without a good reason. Disturbing their sense of security could exacerbate existing tensions within the group, and it wasn¡¯t like Welt could hide any more effectively than he was already.

    ¡°This is the path, then. We visit the dedication ceremony, listen to his boring speech, and ¡®convince¡¯ him to help us getting to Jones. The factory won¡¯t be open and operating that day, so it should be easy to break in without being seen.¡±

    Frankfort and Veronica seemed happy to go with that plan. There were a lot of details to go through before we could get to him. The key was figuring out what made Micah tick based on what Adrian learnt during their meeting. Where was the weak point that we could exploit to make him sing to our tune?

    I had a few mean ideas. I tried not to look too giddy about the prospect of taking this guy down a notch.

    Adrian grimaced, ¡°Goddess help me. Maria¡¯s got that look on her face again.¡±

    But I didn¡¯t do a very good job of it.

 Chapter 152

    The opening of the factory was a relatively low-key affair. A small crowd of people had gathered around a podium placed in front of the main gates. Members of the press, the surrounding residents, and a handful of anti-monarchy protestors were assembled to listen to Micah speak about his new investment.

    It was a big, brown box of a building with wide, arched windows. The classical architecture was intended to blend in with the development that surrounded it, but like in every other case of a property developer making that claim, the pragmatic side of the design office won out and used a selection of cheaper materials that gave it a distinctly different aesthetic.

    Micah appeared to a mixture of polite applause and angry yells of protest. Standing in front of the microphone in a suit that was at least two sizes too big for him despite his robust figure. He was practically swimming in it ¨C and the hapless look on his face when he noticed how small the crowd was only enhanced the comedic effect.

    It was a long, boring, mostly on-script speech where he ran through all of his reasons for choosing to open the factory.

    ¡°For years now, Walser has been at the mercy of outside markets when it comes to the creation of paper. Now more than ever the demand for paper is increasing, with newspapers, universities and organizations all clamouring for their fair share. That demand has resulted in an unfortunate spike in prices. This factory is the first step in rectifying the situation. We¡¯ll provide affordable paper, made in Walser, with Walserian labour, and help drive the innovative industries that have made us the envy of the world.¡±

    The paper mill would even take in used paper and recycle it, which was extremely innovative by Walserian standards. That kind of environmentalism was at least one hundred years from becoming an active concern. The era was all about exploiting every natural resource you could and worrying about the consequences later. The biggest difference was that magical energy was used in some places instead of coal.

    One of the journalists approached the stage with a notepad in hand.

    ¡°Mister Greenblatt, do you have anything to say about the recent instability?¡±

    Micah put on a showman¡¯s smile and nodded.

    ¡°My opinions on the direction of our government are well known. I have little sway in the end ¨C but I hope that it¡¯ll come to a peaceful resolution soon enough. In times like these, the last thing we want is for our own countrymen to be at each other¡¯s throats.¡±

    How diplomatic of him. It was almost like he wasn¡¯t partly responsible for the situation that was unfolding in the first place!

    ¡°Are you happy that this is a good time to open a new factory?¡± he followed up.

    ¡°This project has been in the making for a long time, and I won¡¯t pretend that the disquiet is not a risk to our operation, but I¡¯m of the belief that no matter what happens Walser will keep ticking on.¡±

    The rest of the questions were similarly soft or easily deflected with his affable fence-sitting replies. The protest group chanted a few slogans and waved signs, but dispersed when they realized that they were neither capable of riling him up or attracting a big enough audience for their noise-making to matter.

    ¡°Make sure to tell your friends and family about this opportunity! We¡¯re actively looking for experienced hands to join us, and the wages are better than any you¡¯ll find elsewhere in the city!¡± Micah declared ¨C finishing his big pitch and promptly leaving the wooden stage.

    Behind the scenes, my friends were already working to ensure that we could get some private time with the man of the hour. Veronica and Frankfort were scouting the factory and figuring out where the empty areas were. They would have to adapt to the route that Micah took as he returned inside to finish up his business.

    I kept my head down and headed to a gate on the other side of the perimeter wall, jostling the lock open with my tools and stepping through. With so many points of entry to such a huge building, I was spoilt for choice when it came to getting inside without being seen.

    I entered a small loading area where the carriages (and later mechanized delivery vehicles) would collect the finished product. I could hear Micah¡¯s voice echoing through the inactive factory beyond the doors.

    ¡°I think that went rather well, all things considered. Did the police not listen to our request to keep those rabble-rousers away from the stage?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid their response was at the last minute sir. They said they did not have the officers to spare to manage a small media event,¡± an unseen attendant replied.

    ¡°I should have guessed as much,¡± Micah grumbled, ¡°This is why I wanted Jones to work with me. What good are all of those loyalists they¡¯ve gathered if we¡¯re not putting them to use? Make sure that the papers put my best lines into their articles, please.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get in touch with them right away.¡±

    The attendant scurried off to do his bidding and send glowing notes to the press and newspapers. I remained at a safe distance and allowed Veronica and Frankfort to do the hard work. After ghosting him for some time I heard them give the signal. I broke cover and ran up to him as quickly as I could with one injured leg.

    He turned to face the source of the noise, surprised to find a teenage girl skulking around the factory, but the real threat was approaching from behind. Veronica wrapped one arm around his neck and dragged him away, his legs kicking and flailing in an attempt to free his body from her grasp.

    They had found a nice, quiet patch in one of the production rooms to use for our friendly conversation. Frankfort locked the doors from the inside or blocked them using what was on hand while Veronica forced him down to his knees at gunpoint. He knelt there in a panic-stricken silence for two minutes straight before she returned to us.

    We were sitting on top of a metal walkway that overlooked the work floor below. Several large machines designed to recycle used paper were crammed from wall to wall. We didn¡¯t have a lot of time to do this, so I hurried things along. I motioned at Frankfort and Veronica to begin the next step.

    ¡°Rope him up.¡±

    Micah was helpless to resist as the two women descended on him and wrestled him to the floor. A coarse length of rope was tied around both of his ankles and locked up tight with a knot strong enough to hold his body weight. At the same time, I descended the steps and moved onto the factory floor. Turning on the machine was surprisingly easy.

    The metal monster rumbled to life, filling the air with the churning of metal teeth. It was a long fall from the walkway into the open mouth of the mulcher. Micah squawked and protested the entire time but his cries wouldn¡¯t be heard, drowned out by the machine he had purchased.

    Veronica and Frankfort finished securing him to the metal railing and pushed him up against it.

    ¡°I have to give you credit for constructing such an innovative factory, Sir Greenblatt. But I do have some concerns about the safety of your workers. It could be very easy to slip over the edge of that railing and into the mouth of this machine.¡±

    His face turned white as a sheet as the implication became obvious.

    ¡°Now, you may be thinking that we¡¯re here for ¡®answers¡¯ about what is going on at the palace, but we already have all of the information we need. You¡¯re a close personal acquaintance of Gerard Verner Welt, and you have been assisting him with his coup plan, have you not?¡±

    ¡°I-I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about!¡± he pleaded.

    ¡°Spare me your denials, Micah. We have a list of names and yours is on it. You want to be on the winning team ¨C so I¡¯m going to offer you an opportunity to switch sides while you still have the chance because Welt isn¡¯t going to be sitting pretty for much longer if we get our way.¡±

    ¡°Are you crazy? Welt¡¯s taken control of the police, of the army, even WISA! The entire damn state is going to come after you!¡±

    I nodded at them, and Micah¡¯s expressions of anxiety quickly turned into screams of terror as his body tipped over the edge and flew down towards the open maw of the hungry machine. The rope pulled taut at the very last second, tugging harshly on his legs and leaving him to swing back and forth over it with his arms dangling down.

    ¡°You¡¯re crazy! You¡¯re all bloody crazy!¡± he roared. His wide eyes stared longingly at the metal teeth rotating inches from his head and the tips of his fingers. Veronica leaned over the railing with one hand on the rope¡¯s anchor point, letting him know what would happen if he failed to comply with our questions and demands.

    It would be a messy and undignified end, and the very last type of death one of these blowhards wanted was one where they had a closed-casket funeral. If you offered them a choice between a bullet to the heart and one to the face, they¡¯d pick the former every single time.

    ¡°At WISA we didn¡¯t normally use techniques like this ¨C but I don¡¯t see a problem with mixing it up every once in a while,¡± Veronica mused.

    ¡°You¡¯re with them?¡± he shrieked, ¡°What the hell is Jones doing? I¡¯ll have his bloody head for this!¡±

    ¡°No, we¡¯re not. Jones decided that it was a good idea to try and kill us both before we could become problematic. Ironically that¡¯s the whole reason we¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°You want Jones?¡±

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. We want Jones. I know that you don¡¯t have his location, but you do have a personal line of contact to reach him. You promise to use that for us, and you won¡¯t have to make an unfortunate trip into that machine.¡±

    Micah dangled there helplessly. There was no time to consider his options. He was under immense duress and could be cut loose at any moment. It was a sight to see, like something out of an old cartoon. The hot-headed tycoon didn¡¯t take very long to crack and beg for mercy.

    ¡°Alright! Alright! I¡¯ll give you what you want! Just pull me back up!¡±

    I gave them the signal and his heavy carcass was slowly rewound up onto the catwalk. I turned the machine off so we could hear and returned to the group with an evil grin on my lips.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t the spirit of cooperation alive and well, even in these trying times?¡±

    ¡°Go bugger yourself, you damnable hell spawn!¡± he gasped.

    Micah clutched his chest and wheezed desperately. His heart was threatening to burst from the stress of what just happened to him, and all of the blood rushed from his head back down into his extremities.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make us string you up there again ¨C Greenblatt. I have no patience for your sort. Perhaps you can do something good with your life and assist us in rectifying this horrible situation your friend Welt has created.¡±

    Veronica tugged on the rope and reminded him of what was at stake; ¡°How do we get to Bernard Jones?¡±

    Micah shook his head, ¡°Bernard can¡¯t stand me! We¡¯ve been at each other¡¯s throats for months now. He¡¯s not going to arrange a meeting with me without a good reason!¡±

    ¡°We can give him a very good reason to meet with you, actually,¡± Veronica quipped. She nodded in my direction, and it was only then that what she meant settled in. His worried expression shifted to one of frank disbelief.

    ¡°Maria Walston-Carter! You mean to tell me that-¡±

    I made a show of approaching him full of confidence; ¡°Indeed, that is my name. I¡¯m sorry for the abrupt and somewhat violent manner of taking your time, but a busy gentleman like yourself is very hard to get to these days.¡±

    Micah caught on to the fact that he was giving the game away and tried to look unperturbed. It was too late; the gate was open and the horse had bolted. We already warned him that we knew what he was doing, but the fright of nearly being turned into mulch must have clogged his ears.

    ¡°We know that you¡¯re closely connected to Gerard Verner Welt, so let¡¯s not play any silly games. You are one of the men in his inner circle, providing him with the money and support he needs to rough roughshod over Walser.¡±

    ¡°Preposterous! Do you really believe that you can break into my factory and threaten my life like this?¡±

    ¡°Yes. We already did, and let me remind you that we can just as easily throw you over the edge without that rope tied to your ankles. Wouldn¡¯t it be a great shame to spoil such a well-designed machine by clogging it with your entrails?

    His eyes darted to the two older women, who were both armed, flanking him on either side. There was nowhere for him to run from this situation ¨C and no guards or private security to swoop in and save the day.

    ¡°Jones already told you about the report he received from the men at the Academy, did he not?¡±

    He kept his tone low and steady; ¡°I overheard one or two incidences. He does not offer the full reports to anyone but Welt. I heard your name.¡±

    ¡°Jones is more concerned about what happened at the Academy than Welt is. It¡¯s your lucky day ¨C my friend, because you¡¯ve now seen the true face of your foe in the flesh! All of those ¡®crazy¡¯ stories about what happened at the Academy were true. If you were to tell him, then he¡¯d simply have to offer you the security you¡¯ve been begging for.¡±

    ¡°Quit with the maddening blather, girl! What the hell do you want from me?¡±

    ¡°We already told you. What we want from you is for you to help us get to Bernard Jones. He¡¯s a very elusive man.¡±

    ¡°And then?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s going to tell us where we can find Welt, and if he doesn¡¯t tell us...¡±

    I trailed off and hummed.

    ¡°...well ¨C we¡¯ll have to think of a punishment worse than being turned into recycled paper. That said, he might not have a very happy ending even if he does reveal where we can find him.¡±

    Veronica and Frankfort were going to make sure he regretted trying to burn them before. I didn¡¯t need to ask them to figure that out. He was a dead man walking at this point. Micah turned his ire towards them instead of facing me.

    ¡°What do you two think you¡¯re doing? You¡¯re supposed to be protecting Walser, not acting like a pair of common thugs for the sake of a spoilt child!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that my obligations to upholding the law ended abruptly when Jones attempted to murder me,¡± Veronica complained, ¡°It¡¯s always your sort who throws the first punch and then whine when they end up on the losing end of the deal. I¡¯m a civilian now.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯ll be prosecuted and arrested,¡± he huffed.

    ¡°Is that the case? It was downright elementary for us to break into your factory and hold you hostage. What do you suppose will happen if you squeal to the police or WISA without our permission?¡±

    ¡°Here is what is going to happen. You¡¯re going to tell Mister Jones about everything that¡¯s happened here up until this point in our conversation. You will reveal to him that I was the one who repelled the hostage-takers at the Academy and that I am organizing an effort to depose him and Ekkehard from the throne.¡±

    ¡°What? You¡¯re going to give away the element of surprise just like that?¡±

    ¡°There are two eventualities. Welt already doesn¡¯t believe that I was responsible, and that will not change even if Jones insists that it is true. Or he manages to convince Welt that their reports were accurate, which is the worst-case outcome for my plan. I¡¯ve already made contingencies for both. Your truthful report of this encounter is all for the sake of concealing another lie.¡±

    We were going to lure Jones in. Micah would tell him the full details of this conversation and that we were trying to arrange a meeting with him to find Welt. That was all we needed Micah to do.

    ¡°So, here¡¯s what is going to happen...¡±

    <hr>

    Marco Fisichella was having a rough go of it.

    He wasn¡¯t the type to throw a pity party when something didn¡¯t go his way. He was used to being kicked while he was down or having his plans blow up in his face. That was life. You could never guess if you were going uphill or downhill, and he was lucky enough to spend most of his life going up.

    All of that was being counterbalanced by his incarceration in a high-security jail in the city. He was still awaiting trial, and he hadn¡¯t heard a single reply from his state-assigned defence attorney for days. He almost chewed his fingernails down to the root waiting for a meeting with him.

    ¡°What the hell is happening?¡± Marco asked, ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to stay in contact with me in the run-up to the trial?¡±

    It had been a long, painful and complicated process. Marco was originally meant to be charged with over a dozen contract killings, attempted murders, and additional offences for being the leader of a criminal gang. His lawyer had done a commendable job of whittling them down to an arrangement that would potentially see him receive one or two life sentences instead of five or six.

    To charge him for all of them would be a sprawling, complex effort that the jury would inevitably get lost in the quagmire of. It would demand hundreds of witnesses, pieces of evidence, testimony, opinions from experts, and more. Keeping track of all of that would be downright implausible even with a well-educated jury.

    His lawyer and the judge pressed the state to reduce the scale of its case. There was no point in overdoing things if he was already caught dead-to-rights on charges that would see him locked up for life, or if the judge chose, executed.

    The attorney, Nikolaus, swabbed his head with a handkerchief.

    ¡°Where do I even begin? The trial has been delayed indefinitely.¡±

    ¡°What? How?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t tell you any of the news in here ¨C but the entire government has collapsed. The King has been replaced with someone else, and a lot of the judges who were seen as loyal to the republican cause have been removed from the bench. In effect, there are too many pending cases and too much uncertainty for it to continue.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather we get it over with,¡± Marco insisted, ¡°I know I¡¯m going down for a long time unless a miracle happens.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not all. The more problematic part of the situation is what happened to the government¡¯s witnesses. Two of the experts from WISA, including the woman who apprehended you at the scene, have left the organisation and gone missing. It¡¯s blown a gaping hole in the side of their case outline.¡±

    And without the central, recent charge for the others to cling to, it would be difficult to have a ¡®sure thing¡¯ with the jury. Marco sighed and leaned back in his chair, swinging on the rear legs with his hands behind his head.

    ¡°You ever worry about how screwed up this entire system is?¡±

    ¡°That is what you have to accept to be a lawyer. If you¡¯re asking if I regret representing you ¨C then I¡¯m afraid you won¡¯t get a satisfactory answer. I firmly believe that every person, no matter how evident their guilt, deserves a zealous legal defence.¡±

    ¡°That is the problem. You are too principled to defend a man like me. At this rate, there will not be a trial to defend me in. Doesn¡¯t that cut against your ideals?¡±

    Nikolaus shrugged, ¡°Like in war ¨C much of the outcome of a trial is dependent on what happens as both sides prepare. I¡¯ve had many cases end before they begin for exactly that reason. Just like it is my responsibility to adhere to the rules and law, the prosecution has to do the same for the public interest.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s it? I¡¯m going to be sat in this jail for even longer?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have an estimate for when a trial date will open up. I¡¯m afraid it may be a long wait while all of the chaos settles down.¡±

    Their private discussion was interrupted by a knock at the door of the visitation room. Marco twisted around in his chair and shouted at the person on the other side.

    ¡°I¡¯ve still got ten minutes in here! It¡¯s my lawyer!¡±

    A brief silence was followed by another set of forceful knocks.

    ¡°These guards are unbelievable sometimes,¡± he griped, standing up straight from his chair and approaching the closed door. It was when his hand twisted the knob and pulled it open that a thought occurred to him. Why would they need to knock? They had keys to every door in the prison already.

    The answer came in the form of a hand shooting through the gap and gripping him by the throat. Nikolaus was forced to watch as his client was forcibly pulled through the doorway and out of his sight. Marco kicked and struggled against his attacker ¨C but they had an incredible level of strength, and seemed to shrug off any attempt to fight back.

    ¡°Who the fu-¡±

    His profanity did little to alleviate the danger. His feet left the ground. A mighty heave from the strange man sent him flying through the hallway and onto the stone floor with a heavy thud and a grunt of pain. Marco¡¯s instincts carried him. He twisted around onto his stomach and got back up, breaking into a sprint in one fluid motion.

    He had to clear a gap between him and the man before he could beat him any further. Unfortunately, the attacker wanted him to clear the way between him and the visitation rooms. Marco screamed in pain as a bolt of energy struck him in the back and seized control of his muscles.

    ¡°Bastard!¡± he cried through gritted teeth. He was on his hands and knees again.

    ¡°We¡¯re here to clean up your mess.¡±

    ¡°Who are you? Here for revenge? Did I kill one of your little friends before?¡±

    A hand gripped the scruff of his prison coveralls and twisted him back around to face the mountain of a man who had attacked him. Marco didn¡¯t recognize him. Whoever it was ¨C he hadn¡¯t been in a direct conflict with him before. Was he a ghost of the past, a bereaved relative or lover, or just someone who lost a lot of money because of Marco and his gang?

    ¡°Welt sends his regards to another former thorn in his side.¡±

    He should have guessed his name first.

    Every word took a huge effort to utter; ¡°Don¡¯t you have anything better to do than pick off a crook who¡¯s already in prison?¡±

    He didn¡¯t receive an answer. Marco braced himself for an uneventful and miserable end. Of all the places he could have died, why did it have to be the back halls of an inner-city maximum-security prison? There was nothing romantic about that!

    ¡°Hello, Marco.¡±

    The hand holding tight to his clothes tensed for a second, before slackening. The huge body slumped over and landed in a heap next to him, completely immobile, with dead eyes and squalid skin. It took his mind a moment to catch up with what just happened. He was milliseconds away from being killed by Welt¡¯s fixer ¨C and now he was face to face with...

    ¡°Maria?¡±

    That minuscule size and distinctive high-class accent could only belong to one girl. She was wearing a mask and plain clothes to conceal her identity from onlookers.

    ¡°You¡¯re being let out on bail. I suggest you come with me before the guards notice that your heavy-set friend ripped a hole in the back wall of the prison.¡±

    ¡°What? Why the hell are you here?¡±

    How did she know the exact time to arrive and save the day?

    ¡°We need you for an important task. I suggest you come with me.¡±

    But who was he to refuse such a kind offer?

    ¡°Fine! This better not be a trick.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been nothing but forthcoming with you.¡±

    That was debatable.

 Chapter 153

    ¡°I thought I said it was a horrible idea to meet with me, Jones.¡±

    Huddled in the corner of a private gentleman¡¯s club, Bernard Jones and Micah Greenblatt made a strange duo. Jones was techy, high-strung, and always concerned with following rules and social expectations. Micah was his opposite. He was bloviating, easy-going, and loved to indulge in sleaze.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes when I read what you sent to me. I want you to look me in the eyes and repeat it so I know that you aren¡¯t pulling my leg.¡±

    ¡°What? Is this some kind of ritual humiliation? Do you want me to sit here and make a complete arse of myself for your amusement? I told you not to meet with me ¨C and your first instinct is to demand that I come and find you at this club!¡±

    ¡°Listen. I already told Welt about the report I received from the volunteers at the Royal Academy, and he didn¡¯t want to hear any of it. I didn¡¯t accept it either, but now you¡¯re claiming that the very same girl is threatening your life too.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re not going to claim that I¡¯m only saying this because I overheard her name before?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I want to speak with you now. It¡¯s easier for me to discern the truth if we¡¯re face-to-face. Was there any truth to what you stated?¡±

    ¡°It was all true! That horrible little wretch broke into my new factory and almost turned me into a pile of discarded meat and shattered bones! Maria Walston-Carter, it was her, I can guarantee it. Black hair, red eyes, and a scowl that could scare a man solid like a damn statue.¡±

    Jones covered his face with his hands and exhaled.

    ¡°But the real problem was the two women who were with her. I think they were both WISA agents. I almost blew my top when I found out that you might have been involved.¡±

    ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t. That was Veronica Gladwell and former handler Frankfort. I knew they would be problematic for Welt¡¯s plan, which is why I tried to nip them in the bud while I had the chance.¡±

    ¡°So they¡¯ve teamed up with Maria Walston-Carter? What about her Father?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been keeping a close eye on every noble worth their salt, and as far as I know Damien Carter has been away from the coast for weeks. These are trained spies ¨C so if something were amiss they would notice right away.¡±

    Micah grunted, ¡°He never did like getting involved in politics, but it¡¯s hard to imagine a young girl like his daughter doing this of her own volition.¡±

    ¡°What did they want from you?¡±

    ¡°How the hell should I know? They talked about getting to you, which is why I explicitly said we should only communicate through written letters. I don¡¯t even know if they¡¯re watching us as we speak.¡±

    Jones shook his head, ¡°You ought to put some more faith in my agents, Micah. They have this entire city block locked down tighter than the central bank¡¯s main vault. Nobody comes or goes without them seeing it.¡±

    ¡°That would be news to me, considering you¡¯ve turned down my requests for extra security.¡±

    ¡°I already told you, I don¡¯t have the people to spare to watch one of your dirty little parties. Is it honestly too difficult for you to refrain for a few weeks while the trouble blows over?¡±

    ¡°Welt brought me into this plot because he valued my ability to get what he wanted from the stubbornest nobles. Some of them care a lot about appearances ¨C and are very easy to leverage when their dirty secrets are circulating amongst the nobility. I could cause half of the couples in this city to split within the week if I wanted. Those parties are how I play my hand.¡±

    ¡°Even so ¨C you have to adjust when the plan is in motion. At the present moment, maintaining order and keeping Walser from descending into anarchy is the priority, and it¡¯s mainly my responsibility at that. I don¡¯t understand why you can¡¯t see it from my perspective.¡±

    Micah held his tongue and refrained from delving into yet another long, drawn-out argument with Jones about how important their respective roles were. Micah¡¯s insecurity about not being an important piece of Welt¡¯s plot was evident, and even he was capable of seeing that his intentions were not selfless. He wanted to earn a good return on his investment, and that return had to be even bigger now that his life was being threatened.

    ¡°Besides ¨C you said that I¡¯m the one they want. They should leave you alone.¡±

    ¡°Jones, they threatened to mulch my body in one of the machines! Do you think of those three as the type of ¡®leave¡¯ something alone?¡±

    Jones leant forward in his seat, ¡°They want to get to me. All we have to do is give them exactly what they want. This is an opportunity that we¡¯d be foolish to pass up on. We can arrange this ¡®unexpected¡¯ meeting with me, and I can have some of Welt¡¯s men take care of them. Veronica and Frankfort are as tough as they come, but they won¡¯t be able to fight off a few of those soldiers Sloan created.¡±

    ¡°Are you certain? What if you get injured, or killed, or whatever else they have in mind?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t be anywhere near the fighting. You have the initiative here Micah. You should remember well who your allies and enemies are. Co-operating with them is only going to end in tears. Let¡¯s get rid of them as soon as possible and call the whole matter dealt with. All you have to do is trust me. We¡¯re on the same side.¡±

    Micah murmured to himself and slicked back his messy hair.

    ¡°If you say so.¡±

    ¡°My job is to keep Welt safe, and it is no exaggeration to say that Veronica and Frankfort pose the greatest active risk to his life as we speak. That is enough reason for me to help you.¡±

    ¡°I get it! I get it! Let me think for a moment, we could rearrange one of my parties to be more tasteful and have your men on standby to catch them. We would have to make it obvious to them that you are going to attend.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you tell them that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know where they are. They threatened me, told me to drag you out in the open, and ran away.¡±

    ¡°I see. They must have a method to keep an eye on you, then. We¡¯ll have to do a sweep of the venue and keep all of this in mind. We have to be one step ahead of them if we want this to work, but they won¡¯t show their faces if they are not confident that I¡¯m present.¡±

    But they couldn¡¯t kill him and be done with it. Veronica and her gang of thugs had to both kidnap him and extract Welt¡¯s location in one fell swoop, and there was no way that he would ever willingly offer that information to them. Those restraints were advantages that he could exploit.

    Bernard could hardly wait! He was going to have a lot of fun arranging the house of cards so that it fell exactly the way he wanted, and then Welt would have to take him more seriously.

    <hr>

    What Bernard and Micah didn¡¯t know was that our plan was being designed with their particular approaches in mind. The best way to win a game was to ensure that you loaded the dice and rigged the deck. No matter what they decided to do ¨C we would come out the winners in the end.

    For a man like Micah, winning and losing were concept he could not divorce himself from. He saw life as filled with winners and losers, and he wanted to be a winner. He always went with the sure bet. It was easy to take a risk averse approach and still make obscene amounts of money through brute force. Money turned into even more money, and failures could be ignored to some extent.

    The very last outcome he would expect was one wherein he lost no matter what he did. I checked the time on the watch and mentally considered how deep he would be into spilling the beans to Welt or Jones at that very moment.

    It was obvious that Welt would keep a tight handle on who knew where he was and what his security arrangements were. There would be a tight-knit group of insiders and trustworthy people who would be permitted to see him in his hiding place, and Jones was going to be one of them. He was the head of WISA ¨C a position that allowed Welt to prosecute and investigate whoever he pleased with almost no restriction.

    If Jones were to go missing for an elongated period of interrogation from Veronica or myself ¨C then Welt would know after a while. He would miss a scheduled meeting, or one of his underlings would ask where he had gotten to. Welt would likely respond by immediately moving to a new location that Jones didn¡¯t know.

    Throwing him into the basement of our warehouse hideout and letting him rot was not the ideal strategy. Relying on Welt being an idiot and not doing making contingencies was not a sound approach to the problem. People more often than not were idiots, and didn¡¯t consider every detail of their plan, but on the off chance that Welt had we couldn¡¯t risk it.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Okay ¨C I got myself an invite to that party that Micah was talking about.¡±

    ¡°You did?¡±

    ¡°For some mysterious reason it¡¯s turned into a gathering that¡¯s appropriate for all ages,¡± Adrian said with mirth, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have had a hand in that, would you?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps our salacious friend simply had a change of heart? Regardless, I assume that means security will be very tight. You¡¯re going to be the one on the floor. Confirm that Bernard Jones is in the building, or at least nearby to conduct the operation, and then do as I asked. It should be safe.¡±

    Veronica entered the office with a bag, laying it out on the table for my inspection.

    ¡°Here you go, Maria.¡±

    I pulled the buttons aside and took a brief look inside. A pearl-coloured dress, covered in sequins and a lot of other expensive details, was what I was planning on wearing in case I had to dive headfirst into the party to get at him.

    ¡°Getting that was a lot more work than I anticipated,¡± Veronica complained.

    ¡°Are the streets that bad at the moment?¡±

    ¡°Yes. You can barely find the space to move through. These protests don¡¯t seem to be losing any momentum, and it¡¯s only a matter of time before the pitchforks and torches come out to cause some real damage.¡±

    I was shocked that it hadn¡¯t devolved to that stage. already. People were rightly furious about all this, and the newspapers weren¡¯t fooled for one second about the coronation of Ekkehard, which happened behind closed doors. Welt¡¯s attempted arrest and the trouble surrounding it made it plainly obvious who was really in charge.

    The headlines were brutal and they never stopped coming. They were probably trying to stop them from publishing negative stories behind the scenes, but with the police and WISA tied up in stopping an outright armed rebellion, there was little time or manpower to raid their offices and put those threats into force. Welt was relying on his own cabal of sycophant publishers to counter it with positive pieces instead.

    The problem with that approach was that it quickly shredded any and all credibility those papers possessed previously. The most zealous, pro-monarchy rags around could get away with it, but ones that still dressed in the thin veil of impartiality had to give up the ghost after a few days and return to a more neutral stance lest they become completely ineffective.

    Adrian¡¯s eyes bounced from me to Veronica.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you give up this illusion and call her Mother?¡±

    It had been a while since Adrian decided to step headstrong on an obvious landmine like that. Veronica couldn¡¯t believe that he would even dare to air that type of question unprompted.

    ¡°Our relationship is purely professional at the moment,¡± I explained, ¡°I cannot simply begin calling her ¡®Mother¡¯ given her lack of presence during my upbringing.¡±

    ¡°But you didn¡¯t-¡±

    The air turned deathly cold. Adrian stopped mid-sentence and refused to continue.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t what?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s clearly something, Adrian. Now spill it before I get angry.¡±

    He was uncomfortable with the situation but continued regardless, ¡°Samantha. She might have told us the whole story.¡±

    I stared at him for a minute in complete silence. Veronica was totally in the dark as to what he was speaking of ¨C but she could tell that it was a serious issue for me. I started to pace back and forth in the office while picking at the side of my nose in a nervous fit. Samantha was honest to a fault but I never expected her to reveal all of that to Adrian of all people.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill her,¡± I concluded, sarcastically.

    ¡°Wait! Wait just a moment, Maria. She made sure we knew that it was only a pet theory of hers, and me and the others are the only ones who know.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°Me, and Max, and Claude...¡±

    ¡°So everyone? Why the hell would you ever tell Claude a secret that important? Now I understand what he was blathering about!¡±

    Maybe Claude did not accept the full story, but he still was inclined to accept that I was bequeathed my abilities and knowledge by the Goddess. The reincarnation part was probably a bridge too far for him.

    ¡°Why are you getting so upset at me? You¡¯ve been putting on this act the whole time!¡±

    Adrian had stepped over a line and now he was reacting the only way he could, by trying to go on the offensive and turn the conversation on me.

    ¡°Would you have believed it if I told you originally?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then stop whining!¡±

    Veronica slammed her hand on the table, ¡°What are the two of you bickering about?¡±

    Adrian was not going to make the same mistake of revealing this to Veronica. She was my ¡®mother¡¯ after all. He was already close to getting into a fight with me over this, and I had no idea what Veronica would do if she knew the truth about who I was. I couldn¡¯t give her the answers to her questions anyway. She would inevitably ask if Maria was ever a real girl at all.

    Was it crueller to create a body for me to occupy than it was to steal someone else¡¯s? Durandia clearly thought that it was the better of the two options. I assumed my old body was too dead for me to keep using. I decided the best option was to give her the cliff notes of what was going on.

    ¡°The reason I know how to fight and to kill is because the Goddess picked me.¡±

    ¡°...The Goddess?¡±

    ¡°It would be impossible for a normal teenager to do this. Call it divine intervention, but Samantha and I have been selected to solve this problem before it swallows Walser and the world whole. For that purpose, she instilled me with the knowledge and ability to fight back.¡±

    She walked around the table and grabbed me by the shoulder; ¡°Do you honestly expect me to accept that? Don¡¯t be absurd! WISA must have gotten to you somehow!¡±

    She was projecting her feelings onto me. There was a lot of resentment under that accusation.

    ¡°You already know as well as I do that WISA¡¯s sleeper agent program was ended decades ago. What did Frankfort say? Was she ever suspicious about it? I don¡¯t see an alternate explanation that you¡¯d find palatable.¡±

    ¡°That continuing in secret seems a lot more likely than some pie-in-the-sky story a bunch of arseholes made up!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too bad that we¡¯ve met and spoken with her then!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t meet with a god!¡±

    ¡°You can if you have the right bloody machine!¡±

    I shrugged my way out of her grasp and stepped away.

    ¡°It¡¯s your choice whether to believe what I say, but I¡¯m not to type to offer belief. I only accept what I can see and experience for myself ¨C so I shouldn¡¯t expect the same from you. To be frank, there is no universe in which we could have survived until now with anything less than the foresight of a deity.¡±

    Veronica considered the way that all of the pieces kept falling into place right when we needed them, or how we managed to survive vicious gunfights and battles against horrible odds with only minor injuries. In my eyes this was not a matter of whether I could achieve our goal, it did not depend on what Welt and his cabal did.

    The only judgement that mattered was Durandia¡¯s.

    She could have been waiting for the opportune moment to kill me and tie the story up in a neat little bow. It would be an appropriately grim end for an intelligent being who destroyed whatever they touched. I was here because she thought I was useful, and when that usefulness ended...

    Veronica, Max, Adrian, Samantha, Claude ¨C they could all think what they wanted to, and they could all have their own opinions, but I felt that they were not worth worrying about. They would not be the ones holding my life in their hands.

    ¡°Maria, you really ought to stop lying at this point.¡±

    I glared at Adrian with killer intent. His body stiffened, arms straight down and shoulders squared.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t believe to palatable version of the story already, and it wasn¡¯t a lie.¡±

    ¡°Oh please, by all means,¡± Veronica shouted.

    Adrian stood on the sidelines ¨C having thrown a hand grenade into the situation and outed me at the worst possible time. I was going to strangle the bastard when this was over and done with. His faith in the value of honesty was sorely misplaced.

    ¡°Okay, if you want the full truth I¡¯ll give it to you. It¡¯ll make more sense coming from me than Adrian. This entire series of events has been carefully planned by the Goddess from the very start. You and Damian meeting, giving birth to me, your self-imposed exile, my arrival at the Royal Academy, the implantation of these memories and skills. It was all for the sake of averting this disaster that now looms over us.¡±

    Her knuckles turned white; ¡°Don¡¯t joke around.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a joke. You were in control the whole time, but she already knew what we were all going to do. The same is true of me as well. And...¡±

    The air turned cold as I revealed what would surely outrage her the most.

    ¡°...she ensured that one of her important ¡®pieces¡¯ had a suitable body and position to inhabit when they arrived. She presumably used her powers to ensure my birth, and then implanted my personality into this form at a later date.¡±

    Veronica blinked, rapidly, as she tried to comprehend the revelation that I was offering her. It was the type of insanity that would normally demand a repeat explanation, and that was what I gave her before she could ask.

    ¡°For a decade or so, the Goddess was secretly piloting ¡®Maria¡¯ to take on that role ¨C and then she swapped places with me. I don¡¯t just know how to kill, I have decades worth of knowledge and experience. I lived an entire life before coming here.¡±

    Her confusion turned to denial; ¡°You can¡¯t... that¡¯s not true. You and Samantha are making this up! Do you honestly expect me to nod along and agree with such a ridiculous story!¡±

    ¡°No, which is why I wasn¡¯t planning on telling you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve clearly lost your mind. I should have put my foot down earlier. Is this just a way of minimizing what I¡¯ve done? To try and imply that I never had a daughter in the first place? I gave everything for you! I wanted nothing more than to be a parent!¡±

    My accent wavered, ¡°You have never been and never had any intention of being a parent ¨C Gwyneth. You were perfectly happy to die working for WISA so long as it protected me and Damien from whatever the crisis of the day was. Was that less terrifying than giving it a go and finding out that you couldn''t cut it?¡±

    If this was getting personal I wasn¡¯t going to use her alias for the sake of comfort. She was visibly distressed by the implication that her ¡®daughter¡¯ was never there in her body. She couldn¡¯t accept that. She had to come up with an answer that didn¡¯t involve gods or predestination. Was I being rebellious? Spurning her for what she was?

    She hoped so ¨C but hope wouldn¡¯t stop that gnawing anxiety that what was being said was true. It was a devastating piece of information to learn when you had dedicated your entire life, rejecting your personal connections and wants, for the sake of creating a safe environment for a fake person to grow up in.

    She silently turned away and left the room to cool down. I approached Adrian with a furious scowl on my face.

    ¡°This is a good thing to have on our minds while working on this Welt problem, thank you very much, Adrian!¡±

    I punched him in the side, winding him and causing him to stagger back against one of the tables. He clutched his aching ribs and scarpered away before I could pummel him again.

    I was genuinely angry with him; ¡°You don¡¯t tell her or Frankfort a damn thing unless I let you!¡±

    ¡°I get it! I get it!¡±

    What a disaster. Adrian escaped through the other door to hide from me before I gave him a black eye to go with his bruised kidney. I grabbed one of the chairs from the floor and tossed it across the room with a loud clatter. I was getting a sinking feeling in my stomach. Veronica was one of the only reliable hands I had available who could fight and do the dirty business of espionage.

    She needed to be on our side, and Adrian had shredded her motivation to continue with his big mouth. He wanted to show off. He knew what Veronica did not, and he couldn¡¯t resist the urge to rub it in her face and put me in a terrible situation. He might have grown up since his Father¡¯s arrest ¨C but he was still Adrian Roderro. A teenager with too much responsibility and way too much pride.

    I crossed my fingers and hoped our plan would go smoothly - because his ass was on the line if his careless words screwed everything up.

 Chapter 154

    Adrian was deployed into the belly of the beast to find out where Jones was. As far as he and WISA were concerned ¨C Maria was walking directly into their trap, as Micah had revealed the intended deception to him from the very start. He never considered the possibility that this standoff was what Maria wanted all along.

    But in order to lure Maria in Jones also had to be present at the newly organized party, happening in a concealed country house a short walk away from the city. He was going to act as the bait. He wanted to make Maria, Veronica and Frankfort go all in to take care of them as a group.

    Adrian wondered how he ever thought that a plan like that would work. From the first second he meandered up the stone driveway and reached the pavilion where the festivities were ongoing, it was obvious that there were WISA agents and demonic guards watching every angle. Maria would have to be suicidal to charge into this hornet¡¯s nest unsighted.

    He counted twelve obvious plants from a cursory examination. Two by the front gate. Two at the top of the steps. Three placed near the buffet table. Another two by the doors to the house. The last three were further down the garden where the guests were enjoying the landscaping. There would undoubtably be even more.

    The direct approach was impossible. Maria had trouble with one of those magically enhanced monsters ¨C so this number was going to ward her away through their presence alone. Jones may have overestimated her confidence in that sense. Wasn¡¯t he supposed to be luring her in with an easy target first?

    Veronica and Frankfort were not kind in their assessment of Jones¡¯ intelligence. It was possible that he hadn¡¯t thought it through to that extent as was hoping that Maria would become so fixated on pulling off the job that she¡¯d go ahead with it even when the resistance was obvious and well-organized.

    That wasn¡¯t how she worked. Adrian knew that. Maria was always scheming and rarely made a move unless she had the upper hand. He kept his head down and tried to find Micah amongst the crowd. He was perhaps the only teenager present at the property ¨C as it was originally intended to be adults only.

    It didn¡¯t take a genius to figure out what Micah intended before Adrian showed up.

    He could even overhear some of them grumbling about not getting to drug themselves to the gills and sleep with some prostitutes. What a respectable bunch of cohorts Micah had gathered to be his extra limbs. Adrian wouldn¡¯t trust them to organise a piss-up in a brewery.

    Adrian decided that his best bet was to find Micah and say hello. This entire party was being thrown to win him and his business empire over to his side after all, so he could at least pretend to be interested while searching for Jones. He found the moustachioed man bloviating to a small group of nobles near the table where the alcohol was being served. His rosy cheeks and ruby-red nose were a dead giveaway that he was already inebriated.

    ¡°Adrian! It¡¯s so good to see you! Come over here, let me introduce you to everyone.¡±

    Adrian smiled as best he could and endured a raft of quick-fire introductions to every man and woman present at the table. It took him almost ten minutes of non-stop rambling to run through them all.

    He held his glass of wine aloft; ¡°I¡¯d like to make a toast to welcome an esteemed member to our little circle. It¡¯s Sir Adrian Roderro! As you can tell, he has a good head on his shoulders ¨C he knows who his friends should be!¡±

    That ¡®joke¡¯ earned a laugh from the crowd, although to his ears it sounded more like a threat than anything else. They raised their glasses into the air in concert with Micah and welcomed him with a jolly cheer.

    ¡°I hope you all give him a warm welcome. He has a lot to learn about being in the world of nobility ¨C so don¡¯t try to win him over before I get my claws into him!¡±

    Another wave of laughter rolled over the already intoxicated guests. Adrian recognized a handful of them. They were people who worked with his Father and Uncle and made occasional appearances at other parties and gatherings to rub elbows with upcoming businessmen and politicians. Every aspect of Walserian society was combined into a singular amorphous mass ¨C intended to enshrine their power and wealth for generations to come.

    For all of the consternation about the end of the monarchy, the people who claimed to suffer the worst were unperturbed about the change. In truth, the liberalization of the economy and abundant access to the political parties made them wealthier than ever. They could only fall upwards from here.

    There was no obvious sign of Bernard Jones from Adrian¡¯s initial sweep of the crowd. Veronica had given him a very clear description of the man he was looking for and even put together a sketch of him using her well-honed detective skills. It wouldn¡¯t be hard to recognize him when he found him.

    The crowd dispersed back into their own little pockets, and Adrian finally had the chance to speak with Micah alone again. To his surprise ¨C he was the one who asked the first question.

    ¡°Adrian, are you familiar with Maria Walston-Carter?¡± Micah ventured.

    Adrian kept his cool and carried the discussion by talking about his relationship with her; ¡°Very. She¡¯s a regular attendee of the shooting events near our estate. Our fathers did a lot of business together too.¡±

    ¡°Shooting?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Unfortunately for me, she¡¯s exceptionally good at it. She¡¯s also the most popular girl at the academy. Everyone wants to be her friend, or her betrothed, depending on what kind of social favour they¡¯re attempting to curry.¡±

    Maria had told Adrian what was going on with Micah ¨C so it was no surprise that he was curious. He was still paranoid about what was going to happen now that Jones was pressing him into double-crossing her.

    ¡°It sounds like you have an acrimonious relationship.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t stand her, to be honest. She drives me up the wall. She buys into her own mythmaking. She always thinks she¡¯s better than everyone else.¡±

    ¡°Well, that may be the case, but you should never burn a bridge that you think will be helpful in the future. A disquieting conversation is of little consequence compared to the money that moves between hands every single day.¡±

    ¡°I never said we ignore one another. It would be grossly neglectful to sheer my relationship with Maria and her Father ¨C he owns one of the most prolific business portfolios in the country. Everything worth making goes through at least one of his mines or factories. Sometimes I wonder how a genial man like him raised such a conceited daughter.¡±

    ¡°Genial! That¡¯s a good word. That¡¯s Damien Walston-Carter in a word if I¡¯ve ever heard one.¡±

    The alcohol was calming his nerves and allowing him to speak naturally, but internally Micah was starting to panic. He had no idea that Maria was a talented shooter, which greatly increased the number of ways that she could kill both him and Bernard without having to infiltrate the party personally. There was a large hill across the pond at the back of the property with a thick treeline. It was possible, with a modern rifle, to find a spot there and shoot whomever they pleased.

    Jones had accounted for that possibility but only assumed that Frankfort or Veronica were going to be the ones pulling the trigger.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to meet some of the others. I have a lot to take care of, but I¡¯ll come and find you in an hour or so.¡±

    Thus, he attempted to make a swift exit from scene left to tell Jones all about it. Adrian nodded politely, before silently shadowing him some of the way to his destination. He passed a pair of guards and entered one of the small buildings from the courtyard. Adrian couldn¡¯t follow him in there without eliciting too much suspicion.

    Instead, he moved into the garden and tried to spy through one of the illuminated windows. He could see shadowy figures moving inside, but not the faces of the people responsible. It wasn¡¯t going to do any good ¨C but he was confident that his information about Maria had prompted him to find and speak with Jones again.

    Adrian was correct.

    Micah hurried through the hallways and into the room that Jones had designated as his operational HQ. More agents and enhanced secret police were mulling around the area in case they were needed. Jones was reclining on a couch seat in a well-pressed suit with a glass of alcohol in one hand.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to see that you¡¯re having a good time with an active threat on the doorstep,¡± Micah complained, ¡°I was speaking with our guest of honour, and he seemed certain that Maria is capable of using a firearm herself.¡±

    Jones scoffed, ¡°Do you honestly think that a young girl like that is going to personally visit these grounds and pull the trigger? She¡¯s a sheltered noble, more so than any of the others attending this party of yours. She doesn¡¯t know the first thing about how the world works.¡±

    Micah leaned into Jones¡¯ ear, ¡°I warned you about making this estate look like a damn fortress. They aren¡¯t going to come if they notice how many guards you¡¯ve posted everywhere!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not running the risk of either of us dying,¡± Jones said defensively, ¡°Caution is our best friend. Frankfort and Veronica will want us to become overconfident so that we expose ourselves.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°You said offence was the best defence in this case, don¡¯t change your mind just because I¡¯m criticising you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not changing my mind. The only way they¡¯ll know how many guards are here is if they¡¯re attending the bloody party themselves, and I haven¡¯t seen any sign of them. I need to move on to make myself known so that they feel inclined to launch their attack. Don¡¯t complain until we¡¯ve failed ¨C Micah.¡±

    He placed the cocktail down on the table and stood up. It was time to make his presence known at the party and see if Micah¡¯s worries were justified. Adrian was still waiting by the door when he emerged. He watched closely as both men wandered back to the buffet table and started shaking hands.

    He was here. Adrian double-checked that he had the right guy and moved away. He kept his head down and slipped towards the gazebo by the pond. He made sure that nobody could see him and turned his eyes to the treeline at the top of the steep hill.

    He delivered a series of three hand-signs to the darkened woods. A circle with his fingers to confirm Jones¡¯ presence, holding his palms parallel horizontally to one another to indicate that he was currently inside the building, and finally covering one eye with his fist to relay that Micah had gone to him and told the full story about the factory incident.

    There was a small glint of light in response. They were going to have to do this the hard way. Adrian exhaled and tried to look natural. He turned back and spoke with some of the people there to blend in, slowly working back towards the house. Nobody besides Jones, Micah and his men were aware of the threat that lurked so close to the area.

    He could feel Maria¡¯s eyes on his back. Moving through the crowd, he headed down the side of the main building and found a lantern that was hanging from one of the supporting pillars. Taking it down ¨C he smashed the glass against the post and tossed it through the nearest window, allowing the naked flame to catch against the furniture inside.

    ¡°Here are your fireworks...¡±

    Adrian made himself sparse, leaving via a different path than the one he used before. The fire spread throughout the room, but nobody was aware of it yet. It was only when he had reintegrated into the party, and the flames were visible from Maria¡¯s hiding place, that the chaos started.

    The flashing light caused by the mirror became more intense. Adrian could see Jones¡¯ attention being drawn to it by one of his men.

    ¡°They must be communicating to someone here!¡± the guard declared.

    Jones was eager to play the hero; ¡°Or they¡¯re aiming for me as we speak! I want people on me! We¡¯re going up there and dealing with this right now!¡±

    At that moment the fire was finally noticed by another agent, who stumbled through the door and yelled out loud for all to hear.

    ¡°Fire! There¡¯s a fire! Get some bloody water!¡±

    Jones wasn¡¯t concerned about that. He dispatched what little men he had to spare and took the rest out of the party and towards the rear end of the property. Adrian stood back and hoped that everything would go as planned.

    They mounted their imaginary steeds and launched a suicidal attack up the foot of the steep hill, with guns in one hand and a fistful of dirt and grass in the other. Jones was living the fantasy. This was the heroic charge that would come to define his time as the chief of WISA. Bullets flew overhead and men fell in place ¨C but not him, he was going to sever the head of this great and terrible serpent himself if he had to.

    None of this was true. His men were never in any real danger of being shot. They converged on the position where the reflection was coming from but found nothing at all. Jones momentarily turned to face the party, where the fire was starting to spread between the buildings by travelling across the canopy.

    ¡°These woods aren¡¯t that big! Break up into parties and find them!¡±

    Each group took a ¡®vanguard¡¯ member with them to provide some extra muscle. Jones was joined by a pair of agents and one enhanced vanguard, trudging through the tall grass and decaying flora. It was too dark to see, forcing them to rely on lantern light to guide their way.

    They delved deeper, moving further into the trees until the lights of their companions faded from view. Jones was overly engrossed in his fantasy. A rational person would have noticed that they were getting further and further away from the site of the original sighting.

    A voice cut through; ¡°Where the hell did Mark go?¡±

    Jones turned back and counted the men who had followed him. One of them was gone.

    ¡°Did he just run away?¡± Jones asked. None of the others had an answer, not even the agent who first spotted his absence from the group.

    They pressed on regardless. Jones wasn¡¯t going to quit because one of his men had gotten scared and run away. He would have to discipline him later. It was two minutes from that point when they noticed another light glimmering through the trees. They had done an almost complete circuit around the forested area and were returning to the house, which was still burning. The other groups had fanned out to search the surrounding hiding places.

    ¡°There¡¯s something there. You two, go around the side and I¡¯ll close in from here.¡±

    Jones crouched down and waited patiently as his compatriots flanked the spot from both sides in a pincer manoeuvre. The light was still flickering. The reflection of a telescope or mirror, which Maria and her thugs must have been using to contact a spy within the party.

    He waited and waited, and kept waiting.

    The bodies of his allies had long since disappeared from plain view. Jones pushed through his sense of unease and charged towards the glimmer with his pistol drawn, ready to be the hero that he always wanted to be.

    Jones had walked straight into our trap.

    His eyes widened as he discovered that the glint he saw in the woods was nothing more than a telescope attached to a tripod, intentionally positioned to catch the light and his attention. His men were already dead, lying on the ground where he could see them.

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    We were on him like a pack of leopards.

    Veronica tackled Jones into the dirt, wrestling the gun out of his hands and tangling him up in a chokehold. The strength left his body along with the air in his lungs. I unloaded a series of shots into the men who had come with him from my hiding place in the bushes. They never stood a chance.

    His cries were muffled by her hand, and soon we had his hands and legs trussed up good so that he couldn¡¯t get away. We hoisted him up and hauled him further away from the scene, out of sight and out of earshot. The crackling of the fire on the property would distract them from any calls for help.

    We dumped him out into the mud and dusted off our hands. Frankfort peeled away to keep a watch of the perimeter while we worked him for information. Jones squirmed and tried to escape ¨C but it was no use. He hissed through his teeth around the fabric in his mouth, at least until Veronica ripped it away and let him speak again.

    If I was in his shoes I would have begged for mercy, but Jones¡¯ reputation as an impudent and overly ambitious man preceded him. He was not going to go quietly into this good night without having the last word.

    Jones sneered, ¡°Is this supposed to intimidate me? A pair of has-been field agents and a child?¡±

    Veronica punched him, whipping his head to one side with the force of the impact against his cheek.

    ¡°Has-beens? You seemed rightly concerned about what would happen if we got away and refused to side with Welt. It¡¯s no good pretending that we¡¯re not one of your primary concerns now. Why else would you go to so much effort trying to catch us out?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t get away with this! I¡¯ve got enough eyeballs on this place to ensure that nothing goes below our notice!¡±

    I checked for dirt under my nails, ¡°You did, which is why I took care of the most problematic guards before we brought you here. All it takes it a snap of my fingers and that enhanced blood you¡¯ve pumped them full of isn¡¯t an issue at all. They might be resistant to physical harms ¨C but they still fall over all the same without their spinal columns intact.¡±

    I made it sound much easier than it really was to play mind games with him. It was a long, tedious and risky process to remove the three men he had hidden in the treeline across the pond at the rear of the estate. I had to move swiftly and quietly, which was easier said than done in a wooded area that was covered in a carpet of sticks and leaves.

    ¡°Veronica and Frankfort know all about the patrol and search patterns you use too. All we had to do was evade your men¡¯s net for a few minutes until they left for greener pastures.¡±

    He shifted the discussion to try and cut me off.

    ¡°You kill me and you never find out where Welt is hiding. I¡¯m one of the few people who know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡¯s true ¨C although a man like Welt wouldn¡¯t accept living with anything but a handful of servants at his beck and call. I¡¯m sure we could figure out their identities with enough groundwork.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you think. You¡¯re not doing it.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t tell us we¡¯ll simply have to do it the hard way. It would be a strike against my integrity if I threatened to kill you for not giving us what we want only to back away at the last minute.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to kill me. I¡¯m too valuable.¡±

    He was going to repeat that same line until he went blue in the face. It was not going to help him get out of this situation. I paced around the clearing, the flames from the chateau illuminating my face and the outline of my body.

    ¡°We already understand you very well, Jones. You always felt you were smarter than everyone else, which is why you bristled whenever the other agents went over your head or disrespected you. Being the chief of WISA would get you all of the respect that you believed you were so richly owed.¡±

    ¡°Nobody gets to this spot without playing the game, Carter. All of the men who preceded me did the same thing, and their portraits are still hanging in the halls of the head office.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care in the slightest.¡±

    I swung down with a kick and hit him in the chest, forcing him back into the dirt. I fiddled with his gun, which I¡¯d picked up during the scuffle and brought with us.

    ¡°Tell us and you live. Don¡¯t, and you¡¯ll die here. Lie to us and it¡¯ll be the same result.¡±

    A bead of sweat rolled down his head and onto his nose.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t worth it! You¡¯re trying to fight with the man who runs this country!¡± Jones pleaded, ¡°It¡¯s not a battle you can win! Why are you even doing this?¡±

    I remained silent - as did Veronica. This was not the time for a discussion or debate.

    ¡°Time¡¯s running out, Jones,¡± Veronica warned, ¡°Do you really value your pride more than your life? Welt¡¯s only going to replace you with another worthless toad the moment you croak.¡±

    Jones clenched his teeth and looked away. He considered calling for help and hoping that it turned out the way he wanted with a last-minute rescue, but a bullet travelled a lot faster than the legs of his friends in the woods. He would be dead before they had a chance.

    ¡°Ten seconds,¡± I declared.

    I counted down.

    ¡°Nine, eight, seven.¡±

    Jones rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

    ¡°Six, five, four.¡±

    He¡¯d sacrificed everything for this, was he going to throw it away?

    ¡°Three, two, one...¡±

    He cracked.

    ¡°Okay! Okay!¡± he cried, ¡°I know where he is! He¡¯s bloody hiding in one of Rentree¡¯s apartments on Fifth and West! Third floor, Carpenter building!¡±

    The black maw of the gun that was pointed at his head hovered for a terrifying instant before pulling back and facing away. Veronica nodded and gave me the okay. It sounded like a realistic answer.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so hard, was it?¡± I quipped. I unloaded his gun and tossed the empty pistol onto the ground by his head, pocketing the magazine and leaving him unarmed. ¡°You know what¡¯ll happen if this is a lie.¡±

    Jones double-took at me. He couldn¡¯t believe I was keeping my word and letting him live.

    ¡°Wait, what do you mean?¡±

    ¡°You have me what I wanted, so I¡¯m not going to shoot you. It¡¯s a professional transaction. A woman whose word is worth nothing can never make demands of others,¡± I observed, ¡°Besides, my name and face are already known, and Welt will only replace you with someone else if you die...¡±

    The sound of a safety switch clicking was the punctuation.

    ¡°...But I never said that Veronica wouldn¡¯t.¡±

    His head snapped against the forest floor as a nine-millimetre round penetrated and splattered what little brain matter inhabited his skull against the leaves. The birds sleeping above our heads cawed and fled in a flutter of hurried wings.

    With that piece of business attended to and revenge attained ¨C we left to regroup with Frankfort, collect Adrian from the party, and move to find and kill Welt before he could relocate from his hiding place. We moved quickly. That gunshot was not so easy to ignore.

 Chapter 155

    An hour later we were on the other side of the city, a block away from the apartment building that Jonas Rentree was using to hide Welt while his minions caused chaos across the nation. We were checking our supplies and getting ready for a brutal close-range battle.

    Veronica looked at me, concerned about the state I was in.

    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re ready to do this now?¡±

    No, not really. My leg was killing me. Running around those woods had agitated my injury, and using my magic to pick off Jones¡¯ demonic soldiers had drained my strength. The smart thing to do would have been to rest up for a few hours before launching our assault on the apartment he was hiding in.

    We didn¡¯t have that luxury though. I could imagine one of Jones¡¯ men hurriedly rushing to report back about what happened at the party. Knowing that one of the outside contacts was dead, Welt would immediately move from one hiding place to another and render our efforts moot. I had to suck it up and keep going.

    ¡°If we miss this window of opportunity, then we may never get another one. Welt will move to a secure location and ensure that nobody knows where he is.¡±

    Welt was here because he wanted to issue orders from the centre of the city, but he would willingly sacrifice expedience for safety if the circumstances changed. He wouldn¡¯t live to see his grand design achieved if a bullet went between his eyes.

    The moment the fighting started he would try to flee. It would have to be fast, which meant it was also going to be risky.

    ¡°Are you ready to do this?¡± I repeated back, ¡°After all, you said all of this was for my sake.¡±

    Veronica tried not to let any emotion shine through as she replied.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think about what you said, but there¡¯s no reason for me to give up and go home now. I can reckon with the truth when there¡¯s time to do so, and even if what you said was authentic, I still want to live in a Walser that isn¡¯t ruled by this idiot and his toadies.¡±

    Kicking the can down the road was about what I expected when I asked.

    Frankfort was moving around the back of the building to make sure they couldn¡¯t escape through the rear. She had every intention of taking Welt down even if it killed her in the process. Veronica and I would go through the front and try to get to him before she had to do that.

    It was almost certain that there would be armed guards in the building. Given that Jonas Rentree owned it ¨C it was likely that he had emptied all of the apartments inside. Welt was going to be in one of them, but the rest could house supplies, guards, or whatever else they needed for a long stay, including his servants.

    It was the dead of night, ticking over towards three in the morning. It would only be a matter of time before news about Jones¡¯ unfortunate death reached the building. They would have to locate his body first, and then pass the news along to Welt. We didn¡¯t have a choice. It had to be now.

    There was nobody around. We double-checked our weapons and ammo and headed down the road, slipping through a narrow alleyway and onto the opposite street. A heavy fog settled over the city, reducing visibility and applying a layer of moisture to everything it touched. Under the yellow streetlights we cut a pair of strange figures.

    We found the front door to the block, numbered and signposted for our convenience. There was nobody there guarding it from the outside. I pulled out my lockpicking tools and tried to jostle it open as quietly as I could, only to give up when I discovered that Rentree hadn¡¯t gone cheap on buying a decent lock.

    I got down onto one knee for a closer look while Veronica tried to cover me from potentially prying eyes.

    ¡°Why did he have to buy a good lock for this door?¡± I complained in a whisper.

    But a good lock wasn¡¯t good enough to keep me out. They had a lot to learn when it came to devising devious machinery that made my traditional skills worthless. I used to only rely on lockpicking when breaking into industrial yards or other low-stakes areas because they always bought the first thing they found online. You get what you pay for, and those cheap padlocks weren¡¯t worth the metal they were cast from - if they even were made from metal and not brittle plastic.

    It gave way, although it held the distinction of being the toughest one I¡¯d cracked since my arrival into the new world. I pocked the pick and drew my pistol, slowly opening the crack in the doorway and keeping it trained forward. The entry hallway was also empty. Veronica hustled in behind me and we closed it again.

    Veronica whispered into my ear; ¡°Third floor?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what he said.¡±

    There was a strange mood in the air. The building was mostly dark, with only a handful of lanterns and electric lights illuminating the key thoroughfares. Those patches of refuge were swallowed whole by open doors that led into pitch-black voids. They were using the entire building like it was one and not a series of segmented apartments.

    Black and white tiles greeted us in the entryway. There were doors on either side, with another exit at the rear that led into the yard. Frankfort would be waiting there to cut off any potential escapes. I was shocked not to find at least one guard sitting on the wooden bench next to the door.

    There were a dozen sets of shoes though. A combination of smart loafers and heavy, mud-stained work boots. It gave me a small hint as to how many guards were staying. The only problem was that there was no sign of them.

    ¡°What¡¯s the play? We sneak to floor three, get Welt, and worry about the guards after?¡±

    ¡°If we can find a good chokepoint to fight in,¡± Veronica concurred.

    Any discord that had formed between us didn¡¯t stop us from working like a well-oiled machine. Veronica stuck close to my back and covered my blind spots, whipping the barrel of her gun between entryways as we moved to the steps and started a slow and painful ascent. Every creak of the wooden boards made me wince internally.

    I pointed my gun upwards and let Veronica push me from behind. We paused, hearing the sounds of hooves from outside. They came and went, and we continued with our exploration of the building. At the top of the first flight, we were met with an identical arrangement of doors, although some of them were closed.

    ¡°Guard quarters,¡± I muttered, ¡°It must be.¡±

    There were two chairs placed at either end of the corridor. I was starting to get the picture of how tight the security was during the day. A man at the front door, two more on the first floor, and even more as you got higher up. They¡¯d sit there and keep watch at all hours of the day. There was an empty bottle of alcohol at the foot of one of the watchmen¡¯s seats.

    Boring job ¨C at least until we showed up to throw a party.

    I could hear something coming from the floor above. The first night guards were on the second floor. The turning of a page and the rustling of what I assumed was a newspaper. Waiting a minute yielded a cough from one of the two men, along with the sound of a bottle touching the floor.

    There was no way to get through them without kicking off a fight. Luring one of them down to the second floor and picking them off was not an option. They would come pouring out of their rooms and overwhelm us with sheer numbers. Any kind of fight would wake someone up.

    ¡°Are you ready? I¡¯ll get the farthest one, you get the one by the stairs.¡±

    Veronica nodded.

    The next flight of steps was even more agonizing than the last. I was fully aware of the presence of two awake and somewhat alert guards, and so every step had to be made with that in mind. Veronica¡¯s hand against my back was invaluable in keeping me steady while I tiptoed up each miniature mountain.

    We managed to reach the inflexion point without alerting either of them. It was time to make a lot of noise. Veronica followed behind, the speed increasing. I aimed my gun at the man sitting at the far end of the corridor by the window. Two bullets rocked his chest and a third went through his head, shattering the glass behind him with the shrapnel that breached him front-to-back.

    Veronica neatly executed the other nearest to us with a single shot to the dome, splattering the fancy wallpaper with a shower of blood and brain matter. He slumped over in his chair before falling to the ground in an odd position.

    ¡°Up, up, up, up!¡± I chanted.

    A cacophony of opening doors could be heard from below. We scurried up the steps and onto the third floor where Welt was supposed to be. Only two apartments were located on this floor ¨C intended to be for wealthier clients who wanted more space. The man waiting there didn¡¯t have time to fully draw his pistol before I gunned him down.

    Veronica pulled the sawed-off shotgun she¡¯d procured from beneath her coat and blasted the door¡¯s handle and lock clean off. I kicked it through and charged inside. There was a kitchen to the left and a large dining room in front of us. Two guards upturned the heavy table and used it as cover. Veronica stepped through and unloaded the second shell through it, failing to hit either of them, before ditching it on the floor and returning to her pistol.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Come out now and we¡¯ll make it fast for you, Welt!¡±

    It had to be quick because the entire population of the city was barrelling up the stairs to try and stop us. Veronica unleashed a barrage of precise covering fire against the two men, and I took the chance to rush around their flank and finished them off with a hail of shots.

    I reloaded my pistol but made sure to grab the revolver that one of them was using as a backup. Veronica followed me into the living space. A single maid cowered behind the sofa, with another two guards ready and waiting in the doorway to his private study.

    The expensive penthouse quickly transformed into a brutal and extremely dangerous kill box, with bullets flying in every direction and shredding the thin walls to pieces, exposing even more angles from which to attack. A bullet almost turned my head into a fine mist, missing by inches and flying off somewhere into the kitchen. The maid ducked into one of the other rooms and got out of the way.

    I rounded the corner again and unloaded the remaining four shots in the revolver, killing one of the men in an overly brutal fashion. He staggered back and through one of the unlocked doors, falling down and out of sight. Veronica dispatched the other man soon after.

    We had to go from room to room looking for him. I started kicking open doors or using my magic to break the latches. Each one was a display of avarice and wealth ¨C but there was no sign of the man we came to kill. It was a frenzy of activity, and we still hadn¡¯t been followed by the men downstairs.

    Library. Study. Smoking room.

    Door number five had an unpleasant surprise waiting for me. I was confronted by the gaunt, pale visage of one of the mad mages he had created. He held out his palm and started to summon forth a spell before I could get away.

    ¡°Son of a bitc-¡±

    It felt like I was being hit with a brick wall moving at sixty miles an hour. My body flew back through the plaster wall, smashing it to bits and leaving me in a groaning heap. If he was any closer it would have broken my bones or done even worse.

    Veronica didn¡¯t sit back and let that attack go unpunished. She emerged from her hiding spot and unloaded two bullets into his chest and left arm. He turned to face her, but only received another shot to the head as a reward. He staggered back, somehow sustaining enough brain function to keep fighting.

    Dazed and desperate ¨C I took one of the broken legs from the table and charged at him, stabbing the sharpened end through his skull and wrenching it with all of my might. The combination of the bullet and the leverage snapped his neck, and he finally fell to the floor with his limbs twitching wildly.

    ¡°What the hell!¡± Veronica gasped, ¡°I didn¡¯t realize they were that tough!¡±

    But it did explain why Welt had put so much effort into creating them. A small army of these people, who could resist a bullet to the brain and other grievous injuries, could exert more force than a larger, conspicuous group. Even while his brain was being turned to mush, he still tried to cast another spell and take one of us down with him.

    ¡°They¡¯re in Welt¡¯s apartment! Get ¡®em!¡±

    I twisted around and fired blindly towards the door, striking one of the men who was attempting to enter and intervene in the fight. His friends thought twice about following him and making a wall from their bodies to block the only entrance into the apartment.

    ¡°Where is this bastard?¡± I complained.

    ¡°I¡¯ll watch the door!¡±

    Veronica found a good spot to shoot from as I rotated through the rest of the rooms in the apartment. I kicked through the second to last door, only to find the man of the hour halfway through the open window in his robe and pyjamas. He did not wait for me to shoot. He dipped through and down onto an unseen roof below.

    ¡°Get back here you bastard!¡±

    I ran over to try and get a shot on him, but Frankfort had caught on to his ploy and was already shooting from below. The windows cracked as two new bullet holes appeared in them from the stray attacks. She didn¡¯t hit him. I climbed through after him.

    Another rooftop was below the window, which sloped dangerously towards the back alley two floors beneath. Welt was surprisingly deft, able to move across the slippery mildew-soaked tiles without a pair of shoes on his feet. I kept one hand on the wall next to me and pursued him. He dipped down onto another floor and kept low so that I couldn¡¯t shoot him, turning left and escaping from view.

    ¡°Get to the front!¡± I yelled to Frankfort, ¡°He knows you¡¯re there!¡±

    She turned around and dashed out of the backlot as fast as her legs could carry her.

    I almost slipped and fell. How the hell was Welt so good at slithering away when danger came calling? Pushing my body along using the wall and a lot of patience, I followed him to the point where he had disappeared a second earlier. There was a balcony at the front of the building for one of the apartments ¨C and he had crawled through it.

    I gave chase again. The guard who had let him back inside was still standing there with his back to the open window as he barked orders at him. I grabbed the guard by the collar and wrenched him back, using my leverage to tip him over and shunt him off of the roof and onto the street below with a bone-cracking thud.

    Welt almost squealed and ran away. I slipped through and continued to pursue him like a bloodhound. None of the other guards were in this part of the building with us, but Welt made a straight-line dash to the exit so that he could find some more bodies to put between me and him.

    When I came out onto the second-floor landing, I was greeted with a difficult decision. Welt was already down the stairs and heading for the nearest exit, while on the steps leading up a group of gunmen were trying to get to Veronica. I couldn¡¯t afford to lose a valuable ally, so I swallowed my doubt and acted quickly.

    I shot two of the men waiting on the stairs, their bodies seizing up and falling into a tangled pile at the bottom, before leaping over them and charging up to try and relieve their pressure. The moment I crested the top another guard charged at me and shoved me back into the wall with enough force to crack the plaster.

    Rather than shoot me with the gun he was holding, he instead felt that throwing me back down the stairs to the bottom was the better play. He shoved me back and I fell, but the two men I had shot before cushioned my fall, although the one on top did not enjoy having the bullet in his back agitated by a teenage girl landing on him. He howled in pain and struggled to move out from under me.

    I was already getting up and moving. The man at the top shot down at the pile, only succeeding in hitting his friend and putting him out of his misery. I kept a tight angle and stepped back into view, shooting back and killing him in retaliation. Another loud explosion rocked the building and the sound of a wall being demolished indicated that more demonic soldiers were trying to get Veronica.

    I stormed up the stairs (again) on my injured leg and dealt with the last two normal men who were sitting near the door to cut off her escape route. The moment I did, Veronica dived through the gap in the outside-facing wall that the half-demon had created while I was busy below.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him!¡±

    I didn¡¯t need to be told twice. I was starting to run low on magical energy, even with my catalytic bracers equipped, so I followed her down the stairs and into the lobby, where we burst through the still-open front door and onto the fog-cloaked streets. We just caught sight of Frankfort giving chase down the road.

    ¡°He¡¯s not a very quick runner,¡± I observed.

    ¡°But he still has a chance to get away.¡±

    We didn¡¯t stick around for the magician to catch up with us. I followed her closely, tail coats flapping in the wind. We finally joined Frankfort¡¯s pursuit. Welt was desperate to keep himself out of our gunsights, ducking into alleyways and throwing whatever garbage he could find in our path to slow us down.

    He was going somewhere specific, but it was not the direction of the nearest police station to try and have us arrested. It was only when we drew closer that the bluish fog turned a bright shade of yellow that we discovered the warehouse he was running to was already on fire when we arrived.

    ¡°It can¡¯t be!¡± he cried, stumbling over the curb and onto the floor.

    This must have been one of his warehouses.

    Frankfort was mere moments away from pulling the trigger and killing him, but a bolt of energy from inside the wreckage caught her in the arm and sent her spinning onto the cobbles below. An enraged and severely burnt mutant leapt from the ashen timbers and charged at us, throwing spells in every direction he could.

    I used the last dregs of my energy to put up a shield, blocking the electricity before it could hit us. I was about to black out from the exertion. All of this effort and we were about to fall at the last hurdle. Welt was in front of us ¨C yet a single man he had injected with that damnable blood was stopping us from finishing the job.

    I was so woozy that what happened next was confusing in the most extreme sense. I blinked and another figure stepped out from the alleyway next to the burning safehouse. She held her hand against his neck and killed him instantly. I dropped the shield and tried to focus on who was responsible.

    There was another me standing before Welt.

    He screamed and held out his hands in a useless effort to keep the inevitable from occurring.

    ¡°Wait, you can¡¯t do this-¡±

    ¡®I¡¯ pulled the trigger several times in succession, brutally filling his body with new orifices and spilling blood into the air. Welt tried to remain standing as the force of each shot knocked him off-balance, but the strength in his legs quickly left him and he fell face-first to the floor, dead as dead could be.

    There was no grand finale for Welt. For all of this world¡¯s narrative conventions and conveniences, he died like many other people had died, suddenly. He didn¡¯t have a chance to say his piece or justify his actions. He was already marked for execution by what he had done ¨C and at that point, there was no time for negotiation about it.

    My clone walked over and helped me back up. It was clearly me from the future. I took a deep breath and tried to regain some of my endurance. I noticed that several other yellow fires were occurring all across the city, dumping light and smoke into the early morning sky.

    Veronica glanced between me and me.

    ¡°Why the hell are there two of you?¡±

    I exhaled and tried to wash the taste of acid from my mouth; ¡°Adrian gave me his watch. I suppose this means I have to go back and set all of this bullshit up in advance?¡±

    The future me nodded and handed me a piece of paper with several locations, times and dates listed.

    I explained myself, ¡°Before you go back, you need to get the list of these forward bases from Claude¡¯s father. They¡¯re going to search the apartment for evidence and it¡¯ll get buried in a case file if you don¡¯t. Make sure you burn them all to the ground.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t burn all of them down on my own.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s essential you go to the prison house at that time and stop them from murdering Marco Fisichella. Cash in that favour and have him and his men go on an arson spree.¡±

    ¡°And you can¡¯t give me the list yourself?¡±

    ¡°I had this exact discussion with my future me, and she said the same thing. I didn¡¯t give myself the list because it¡¯s with Marco.¡±

    So that information had to come from somewhere at some point in the loop. It didn¡¯t spontaneously appear through the nature of me going back and revealing it to myself. That meant that trying to alter the course of history by neglecting that step was not an option, or at least it was too risky to try.

    I had placed a time checkpoint at our secret base a few days ago. I¡¯d have to get the list, go back, and save Marco so he and his gang could destroy Welt¡¯s operation. It wouldn¡¯t completely excise the threat, but it would make their life much harder without the guns, supplies and drugs needed to control them.

    This all seemed too easy. There was no way that this was the end of this problem. There were more names who were supporting Welt, and Ekkehard was not going to give up his one shot at being King because he was out of the picture. There was also the man who Genta mentioned before, Sloan, who designed and distributed the demon blood that they used.

    Frankfort and Veronica still looked very confused about why I was having a discussion with my doppelganger. Perhaps in Veronica¡¯s mind, this was a preferable explanation to learning that her daughter had been possessed by the spirit of a murderous man from another world, but given that she had witnessed that copy kill two people anyway it was cold comfort.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go back before the police show up,¡± Frankfort suggested.

    ¡°Good idea,¡± Future Maria concurred, ¡°I can tell you what to do next.¡±

 Chapter 156

    ¡®VERNER WELT SLAIN ¨C Coup Plotter Found Dead after Night of Carnage!¡¯

    The headlines were unmistakable, but every solitary soul in the room had learnt about the previous night¡¯s events long before the newspapers did. It was impossible to ignore the big question ¨C who had killed Welt, and how had they discovered his location so easily?

    The one man who knew the answer was being tight-lipped, unusually so. Micah had already sunk back into his seat like a turtle, intent on keeping his head down and avoiding suffering the finger-pointing that came with his part in the death of Jones and Welt.

    The police had vowed to track down and capture the people involved, although most of the cabal¡¯s members knew that their heart wasn¡¯t in it. They were secretly celebrating one of their problems going away without their involvement, and they were now sweeping his safehouse for information. There was little they could do to stop them from collecting damning evidence about Welt¡¯s plans.

    A permissive judge was one tool in the arsenal, yet they were already investigating the building before they had a chance to rule on the matter. There was also an issue of finding a legal justification to stop them. The police were assumed to have the right to investigate anything they deemed integral to solving the crime.

    On the bright side, it didn¡¯t matter so much, because on top of Welt being assassinated in the gutter like a dog ¨C the same rebels had also simultaneously lit their storehouses on fire and severely dampened their ability to control the capital. A list of those buildings was one of the few pieces of documentation that Welt possessed. He burned everything else.

    ¡°It¡¯s a bloody disaster!¡± Jeremiah Vincent raged. A prominent vein pulsed on the side of his head.

    Jonas Rentree crossed his arms and sighed, ¡°What do you suppose we do now? Jones and Welt were essential to keeping control of this situation. If we lose our grasp over WISA and the King, then our hopes for a restoration of the monarchy will be dashed.¡±

    Not to mention that many of the nobles who supported their plan only did so under the provision that Welt was involved. He cashed a lot of favours to make this happen, and now he was dead. They wouldn¡¯t want to stick around without him.

    ¡°I have no confidence that Ekkehard will be able to keep his throne now. He¡¯s scarcely made a single public appearance since his coronation, and what happened to Welt will only encourage him to be even more timid!¡± Vincent added.

    Many sins could be forgiven if the replacement leader was charismatic and well-liked by the wider public, but Ekkehard was not granted such intense social graces and likability. Welt had chosen him because he was a weasel at heart. He had the legitimacy to say he had a claim to the throne, but he was also easy for them to manipulate. With Welt gone, the benefit of picking Ekkehard was now gone with him.

    ¡°We have to crack down on these agitators as soon as possible,¡± Jonas said.

    ¡°The police won¡¯t agree to that. That¡¯s the problem with letting the common folk join their ranks.¡±

    The conversation was disrupted by the doors to the room swinging open and a group of three men entering to their own fanfare. It was Sloan and two of his mages, and he didn¡¯t look the slightest bit concerned about the fact that Welt was dead.

    ¡°What are you doing here, Sloan?¡± Jonas sneered.

    The scientist smiled, ¡°What do you mean, Sir Rentree? I am just as much a stakeholder in this project as the rest of you. I was Welt¡¯s right-hand man for most of the process.¡±

    ¡°Do you mean to suggest that we can salvage this situation?¡± Rentree inquired.

    Sloan clapped his hands together; ¡°I have come to assure you that you and I have the same goals in mind. I wouldn¡¯t have dedicated my time and energy to assisting Sir Welt if I did not believe in his vision for Walser. This is not a coup or a takeover, I wish to course-correct the ship before it runs aground, and for that, I require your cooperation.¡±

    Despite his harmonious message, the men gathered in the gentleman¡¯s club cast a weary eye on the two armed men who had accompanied him into the building. They were both enhanced by his demonic serum. It felt like a takeover to them.

    Micah finally broke his silence; ¡°It¡¯s over. They¡¯ll have Ekkehard¡¯s head on a bloody pike before the week is through. Why don¡¯t we try to minimize the damage and our legal liability before it¡¯s too late? He doesn¡¯t have an ounce of authority in his entire body.¡±

    Sloan shook his head, ¡°The one who leads the nation is the one who possesses a monopoly over force. It is not about the right of Kings, or the machinations of nobles, it is all about the ability to exert violence against others.¡±

    ¡°And can your reduced force obtain that monopoly?¡± Micah countered, ¡°Because as far as I¡¯m concerned ¨C those arson attacks have set you back beyond fighting the army and the police.¡±

    ¡°Weapons and drugs are easily replaced. Don¡¯t you know the saying? A Walserian without a firearm under their pillow is like a bird without wings.¡±

    Sloan knew best that it was going to be risky to continue, but his priority at that moment was convincing Micah, Jonas, Vincent and the others to support his ploy to retain control over Walser¡¯s levers of state. A murmur of discontent travelled across the long wooden table that the noblemen sat at.

    ¡°Let me say this. Banish thoughts of what is safe or practical from your mind and focus on what you want to do. We all came together with Sir Welt for a singular purpose, did we not? We wished to bring Walser back to its full glory. We wish to cement our good names in the annals of history as heroes to our people. Would a hero put down their arms because of the personal risk their victory imposed upon them?¡±

    But the room remained mostly unmoved. They remained firm in their stance that Sloan was not the one to take over the organization at that point. Sensing that he wasn¡¯t going to get what he wanted without disturbing the status quo, he decided that revealing some important information would be to his benefit.

    ¡°Micah!¡±

    The overweight noble bolted up in his chair.

    ¡°I heard some interesting news about what happened at that party you held the other night. They found Jones dead in the woods near that estate. Do you have something to share with the rest of the group?¡±

    Micah swallowed a bitter pill and came out with the truth.

    ¡°Spare me your spurious accusations of treachery, Sloan. I informed Jones of the entire scope of the threat that he faced, and it was his decision to attend the party and use his presence to lure them out. I did not hide a single fact from the man.¡±

    ¡°A convenient story - but hardly believable.¡±

    ¡°They pressed me for information, but I, like everyone here, did not know where Welt was hiding. I said that Jones may have that information. Once they left, I worked with him to lay a trap to try and kill them before they could reach Welt. What happened there that night was a result of his operation going awry.¡±

    Jonas was the only one who knew that Welt was hiding in one of his buildings but even that was obfuscated. There were

    ¡°And he was the one who told them where Welt was?¡±

    Micah shrugged, ¡°He must have been. Where else would they have found that information? I did not possess it, and within an hour of having killed him, they were at the building trying to murder him. They were members of WISA who Jones tried to kill, and Maria Walston-Carter.¡±

    A murmur circulated the table. There was that name again...

    If any of the statements being made in the meeting were to be believed by the majority, then Jones selling out Welt to save his own skin was it. The nobles had many reservations about assigning that overly ambitious sort to the post, and their fears were proven correct once he was in a position to bargain for his life. Jones only cared about being the boss and he¡¯d do everything to keep his station.

    Sloan had them all under his thumb, but they weren¡¯t willing to admit to it yet.

    ¡°Whatever happened, it¡¯s obvious that I¡¯m the one best suited to take charge from here. I¡¯ll gladly allow you all to handle the political issues and steer the King in the right direction ¨C but I¡¯m the only one who knows the full extent of the military force we have gathered. I have to reorganize them immediately before they have a chance to strike back at us.¡±

    The silent blade that hung above their heads was that exact type of retaliation from the state. A prisoner¡¯s dilemma had formed. They could not try to be rid of Sloan by turning his name into the police without exposing themselves as members of the conspiracy, and the most powerful force in noble society was a desire to retain their status and comfort.

    Micah breathed a sigh of relief that his interrogation did not progress any further than that. He had every intention of staying out of the way and hiding on his estate to preclude Walston-Carter coming back for him.

    ¡°I will prove my intent through action, not words. Maria Walston-Carter and her partners from WISA are responsible for this. I will drive them from their holes and exterminate them. We have been soft. These protests will end as well. Do you have any objections?¡± Sloan demanded.

    Not a word was spoken. It was possible to hear a pin drop in the room.

    ¡°Very good. I will return to you with the good news soon.¡±

    The meeting was adjourned, even with much still to discuss.

    <hr>

    It was early in the morning when we finally returned to the safe house, sneaking through the backdoor after spending an agonizing few hours laying low and dodging the police. I was dirty and tired, and more than a little exhausted after all of that trouble at the party and Welt¡¯s apartment.

    Samantha and the others were waiting for us in the loading area, having arrived a few minutes before us. We were later getting back than we expected.

    ¡°Did you do it?¡± Max asked.

    ¡°We did. Welt and Jones won¡¯t be getting any more blood on their hands.¡±

    Max wasn¡¯t certain of where his feelings lay, but he was grateful that some form of justice had been dealt for what happened to his brother. My future self walked inside after closing the door. Max, Claude and Samantha had no experience with how the watch worked, so it was a shock to see two versions of me standing there.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Max pushed onward; ¡°So is that all? Problem over with?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Ekkehard is still the King, his supporters are still organized, and the man who created those mutants has an entire platoon of them waiting to cause chaos. There are too many loose ends to say that we¡¯ve won.¡±

    Adrian pointed to the other me, ¡°Did you use the watch?¡±

    ¡°Allegedly. Which means I¡¯ll have to leave you in her hands and go back to set all of this up...¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that watch could do this. Why don¡¯t we make an army of Marias and take care of it?¡± Claude proposed.

    My copy spoke up, ¡°Don¡¯t be silly. We don¡¯t have enough blood to charge the watch over and over, and if I die during one of the loops, that¡¯s it. I¡¯m not a disposable copy. I¡¯m Maria from two days into the future. There¡¯s still only one of me.¡±

    With that cleared up, they followed me up the steps to the second-floor office. I opened the door and stepped through, almost leaping from my skin as a figure reclined on one of the disused chairs. I drew my gun and pointed it at him.

    ¡°Maria!¡± the stranger said, ¡°What an auspicious occasion this is!¡±

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve spoken before. It¡¯s me, Xenia.¡±

    This was not the form that Xenia took during our dreamscape discussion. In this case, they were bearing the guise of an androgynous-looking man in a long red coat and smart pants.

    ¡°For goodness sake! I nearly blew your damn head off!¡± I hissed.

    Xenia smiled, ¡°Apologies. I should have indicated that I was dropping by earlier, but diving into this chaos without using the Red Tree is somewhat difficult.¡±

    ¡°Who is this?¡± Veronica asked.

    ¡°My name is Xenia. I am the one who sees through the Veil. I am a being of emotion and energy, much like the Goddess who rules over this world.¡±

    Veronica was having none of it; ¡°Did this bloke get into the opioids?¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately - he¡¯s telling the truth,¡± I grumbled, ¡°There are a group of beings who live beyond the Veil in a reality that is entirely different to ours. They are what we would normally call deities.¡±

    Claude scoffed, ¡°First demons, then mutants, and now deities? Life truly is stranger than fiction these days...¡±

    ¡°I certainly wasn¡¯t expecting you to visit me in person,¡± I said, ¡°Isn¡¯t it costly in terms of power to do so?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re correct. Durandia cannot do so freely, as she is using her powers to act as this world¡¯s guardian. Combined with her recent efforts to bring you here, she has little to spare, which requires the usage of that queer machine in the museum. I am not a guardian, and thus I am at liberty to use my power as I like.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯d better hurry and explain why you¡¯re here. We have some things to take care of.¡±

    Xenia¡¯s eyes drifted between me and my doppelganger. Surely the presence of a closed time loop wasn¡¯t unusual from their perspective? The entire reason they were here was because they detested the paradoxical nature of letting their compatriots look into the future.

    ¡°Are we not friends?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re long past the point of playing these word games, Xenia. I suspect that we¡¯re approaching the end of this sordid tale. Say your piece and stop leaving us in suspense.¡±

    Xenia put on a disarming fa?ade, ¡°You are correct. This is nearly the end. I am not privy to what Durandia plans for you. I suppose you could say this is your last chance to try and fight against fate.¡±

    ¡°You and I both know that we can¡¯t fight against fate. You said with certainty that the Red Tree¡¯s predictions are accurate. It accounts for my behaviour and choices, and even outside intervention from people like you. It does not ¡®bring¡¯ those outcomes into being, it merely anticipates them.¡±

    ¡°Is that what you really think?¡±

    ¡°People never really change. You can predict what they¡¯re going to do when you have all of the information in front of you. The idea of a machine so advanced that it can calculate these odds with such precision is not unrealistic to me.¡±

    After all, I grew up in a world one hundred years more advanced than this one. We had portable pocket computers, instant wireless communication between nations, and sophisticated robotics and machines that would boggle the mind of anyone in Walser. Why wouldn¡¯t a group of ethereal beings who exist as energy and emotion have something even more powerful than that?

    ¡°And why the sudden shift in approach? You only spoke with me before when I was sleeping so that Durandia couldn¡¯t account for it.¡±

    ¡°I failed to account for your strong drive to see this through.¡±

    ¡°And isn¡¯t Durandia going to be upset? You¡¯re interfering with her plan.¡±

    ¡°She already knows, and she was a little irritated with me. She called me a ¡®ideologue¡¯ who needed to learn to mind their own business.¡±

    ¡°Is it business?¡±

    ¡°If we so choose, we are selected to become the solemn guardians of worlds inhabited by mortal life. With that position comes a great responsibility and a set of rules that cannot be broken.¡±

    I crossed my arms, ¡°I do not care for rules I am not aware of. You come to me and plead for me to walk to a different path based on your own beliefs ¨C yet you have not once justified why I should do so. Please enlighten us.¡±

    Xenia glanced at all the people present for their intervention and sighed wearily.

    ¡°Very well. I suppose I cannot position myself as a friend of freedom whilst keeping that information from you. You already understand the first rule. We cannot infringe on the free will of any single individual. All decisions made by mortals must be their own, even if that conflicts with the existence of the Red Tree.¡±

    ¡°And what is your solution to that matter?¡± I inquired.

    ¡°Personally, I would see to it that we are forbidden from using the Red Tree entirely, or that we become open to negotiating on even terms with the mortals in question at the least. By prying into the future ¨C we ascend to an abusive position, capable of manipulating mortals as we please.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°The second rule is that we are forbidden from crafting scenarios in which mortals find it easy to ¡®ascend¡¯ to the higher plane through the Veil. We shall not grant them power recklessly, nor shall we create worlds wherein such an achievement is taken for granted. Becoming one of us is a fate that must be chosen, and we do not wish to create an overflowing pantheon of deities.¡±

    ¡°Is this connected to Nihility and Regeneration?¡±

    ¡°Durandia did not fall afoul of that rule by aligning your spirits with those magical forces. You remain as a mortal would be in this world. It is possible for a grade five mage to become aligned with those schools of magic by chance. If she were then to assist you in seeking the ¡®truth¡¯ behind those powers and assist in your ascent, then she would.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Anything else we should know?¡±

    ¡°The third and final pillar is that one shalt always strive to protect and maintain their guardianship over their world. They are not to be used as crude weapons of war, and every mortal soul shalt be cherished regardless of circumstance.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re permitted to interfere like this?¡±

    ¡°The Red Tree prevents such obvious conflicts from arising. Durandia already knew that I was going to come here and speak with you now. She would have acted to earn an injunction from the council if she felt it was problematic. I feel partly the fool for playing along with her.¡±

    That was Xenia¡¯s problem though. They may have appeared in my dreams to try and nudge this story in a different direction, yet they never offered an alternative to me. It was possible that the threat which loomed on the horizon would destroy this world. How else would Durandia have justified such a technical intrusion on their usual rules?

    Freedom was one thing, but one couldn¡¯t enjoy their freedom if they were dead. I had to do what Durandia asked to that extent. She may decide to pass judgement on my previous life at the end of it all, but sitting back and letting the worst come to pass would truly slam the door on getting a second chance. Me, Samantha, and everyone else would be dead.

    ¡°As distasteful as being manipulated may be I do concur with Durandia on this. Something must be done. Freedom is a benefit for those who live,¡± I stated firmly, ¡°All of this is too esoteric for us to worry about. We do not exist on your side of the Veil. We do not subscribe to your rules or legalities.¡±

    Xenia frowned, ¡°What sayeth you, Samantha?¡±

    ¡°The Goddess told me that we are all passengers carried by the tides. She said that it was as much of a burden as it was a boon, to always know where the river led.¡±

    ¡°Does it upset you?¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°No. I¡¯m not going to quit because the Goddess had a hand in this. I want to protect the place where my friends and family live. I¡¯m not going to back down now.¡±

    Xenia considered our words for a long time, their eyes flickering between the various expressions on the faces of my cohort of killers and school friends. It was two minutes before they finally reached the revelation they were looking for.

    ¡°I understand now. I see why the council condoned her actions. Durandia chose a group of mortals she felt were aligned in purpose, and she used the Red Tree to demonstrate your values to them. In that sense ¨C she has not manipulated you at all.¡±

    The body Xenia piloted stiffly stood from the chair.

    ¡°But do not presume I will relent because of this. I fear what this type of thinking may lead to. You are all willing to do this because Durandia is a careful sort, yet I fear for what a similar cunning would birth from someone less scrupulous than her.¡±

    Future Maria sighed, ¡°Let¡¯s step out and attend to the other matters.¡±

    Max frowned, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because Xenia is about to ask us to leave.¡±

    Xenia nodded. Max, Claude, Frankfort and Veronica shared an uneasy look.

    ¡°Actually. I would like for Veronica to stay.¡±

    The others stepped out of the room under my other self¡¯s orders to prepare for the next steps. Once Xenia was happy that none of them were standing by the door and listening in, they turned to Veronica and grabbed that raw nerve with their full strength.

    ¡°How do you feel about her actions, Veronica?¡±

    ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± she complained, ¡°Do you think this is something you ask a stranger?¡±

    ¡°You are the one who has endured the worst. Would that be fair of me to say?¡±

    Veronica didn¡¯t want to talk this out with some complete unknown like Xenia.

    ¡°I thought you existed in a world of energy and emotion. Why are you trying to piss her off with these clumsy questions?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s manipulation through deception!¡± Xenia declared, ¡°We may not be permitted to control your minds or steer your hands, yet this was deemed acceptable by the council regardless! They manipulated you. They created Maria so that you would vow to do what you did, and so that you would end up standing here with us, yet the entire time she was nothing but a puppet without a soul. How readily do we make exceptions for ourselves?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Veronica snarled, ¡°What¡¯s done is done.¡±

    She did care ¨C but she was also a realist at heart. She understood that there was no going back and keeping Durandia from doing it, nor did she expect to meet Durandia in person and exact some kind of revenge for possessing her daughter for a decade before dragging me through to take over.

    Samantha frowned, ¡°Is this all you have to say? Maria was right. We don¡¯t have any idea what you¡¯re talking about. Why would we take your side in this debate? We can¡¯t go through the Veil and give them a piece of our minds, and you said yourself that the ¡®council¡¯ accepted her plan without any objections.¡±

    Xenia seemed disappointed by her response most of all. That was their mistake for assuming that she was a blindly optimistic idiot who would go along with anything so long as it appealed to her aesthetic senses. Samantha was kind and just, but not na?ve.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to escape her script?¡±

    ¡°Maria thinks the world is going to end pretty soon ¨C so I¡¯m more worried about that...¡±

    Xenia grinned and looked down to the floor, ¡°This is my loss. You know, the most difficult aspect of living beyond the Veil is a lack of perspective. Of course, you¡¯re concerned about living in the here and now, and not occupied with thoughts about godly machinations. I should have known. Durandia did not stop me because she understood I would not convince you.¡±

    Xenia was fighting against fate alone. I could accept that they found the Red Tree distasteful because of problems like this ¨C but it wasn¡¯t my problem, and they were directing their ire in the wrong direction. We couldn¡¯t stop it, nor would we choose to if we had that choice. Avoiding the world¡¯s end was a good inventive to play along with what Durandia wanted.

    If the ¡®council¡¯ that legislated these things had agreed to her exceptional level of interference, then the threat was great enough to bend the rules. Xenia believed they were simply loopholes and not a recognition of how bad the problem could become if they did nothing about it.

    I suspected that the Veil was connected with this threat. It was a hellscape filled with terrifying demons and a powerful concentration of magical energy. Maybe the council were equally concerned about what would happen to their plane of existence should that disaster come to be. They were connected to it on the other end.

    ¡°I won¡¯t leave without offering you a useful piece of information. Durandia did not institute half-measures to prepare you for this challenge. The powers of regeneration and nihility almost encroach upon our rule of dispensing divinity. If not for your limited capacity for veil energy, then it would be seen as problematic.¡±

    Samantha was curious; ¡°Really? I¡¯ve mostly found it useful for stitching up injuries.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all a matter of perception. Expanding your abilities beyond that requires a new approach, although being handed the answers will not dispense the lesson Durandia intends.¡±

    I smirked, ¡°I understand nihility well enough.¡±

    ¡°Your understanding is rooted in the rational sciences. Would you describe the Veil as a rational place?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    I was not an imaginative person. I liked to fill that gap by reading creative works from people who were cleverer than me. I soberly noted that it had been a very long time since I even thought about what I used to do with my spare time. I had grown even more miserable and work-focused since then.

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot more to explore. Think big. Our time is running short, so I bid thee farewell. I hope our next meeting is under less urgent circumstances.¡±

    Without waiting for a goodbye, Xenia¡¯s physical body dissipated into a cloud of smoke leaving no evidence that they stood there mere moments ago.

    ¡°And don¡¯t come back, asshole,¡± I groused.

    Veronica had been fully plunged into an extremely poor mood. I could see the storm clouds starting to gather around her head. She marched out of the room and slammed the door, leaving me to grapple with what Xenia said.

    Samantha kicked one of her feet on the ground in a rhythmic tap.

    ¡°So... what do we do now?¡±

    ¡°Oh. We need to talk with Claude about seeing his Dad.¡±

    No time to waste. We had another job to do.

 Chapter 157

    ¡°There¡¯s no way that my Father agrees to this.¡±

    Claude, Samantha, Frankfort and Max had volunteered to visit the police station where Claude¡¯s father worked. The problem was that Captain Victor Wile had an awful lot of work on his plate at the moment. Claude was in no small part concerned about what type of approach Maria would take when faced with an officer of the law.

    ¡°I should be able to convince him to help. I¡¯ve worked with him before,¡± Frankfort said.

    ¡°Did he know that you were working with WISA?¡±

    ¡°Of course he did. The police coordinate with the head office all the time. There are some problems that an average policeman on the street can¡¯t handle, and that¡¯s when they called for us. We would also pass urgent intelligence to them when there was an imminent threat to people¡¯s safety.¡±

    The streets were still packed with protestors and disruptors. Many of the city¡¯s factories had been temporarily closed ¨C and the police¡¯s forces were stretched thin between putting out fires, stopping outbreaks of random violence, and fighting requests from the nobility to protect their property above all else.

    That didn¡¯t mean the police station was empty of officers. They were running all over the place, carrying stacks of papers or trying to find cells to put bloodied troublemakers into. The complete collapse of Walser¡¯s government wasn¡¯t going to stop them from taking advantage of the chaos after all.

    ¡°How are we going to get a meeting with him? He¡¯s going to be busy,¡± Samantha wondered.

    The group hovered at the front door and waited for an opening in the madness, slipping through and moving to the seating area for walk-in complaints from the locals. They were the only people there, as everyone else was too busy protesting or were steering clear due to the low likelihood of being seen to.

    None of those people were the Captain¡¯s son though ¨C and it seemed that his sudden appearance at the station caught the eye of one of his trusted advisors. Halfway through hauling a box full of papers, they skidded to a halt in front of him.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you Captain Wile¡¯s lad?¡±

    ¡°Is he here right now?¡± Claude asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell him.¡±

    That didn¡¯t sound good to Samantha. He must have had a good reason to invite him into his office if they were willing to distract him from work. They sat down on the chairs and waited five minutes for him to return.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you to his office.¡±

    Samantha was counting down the seconds until there was some serious trouble in the family. She had made sure to make her excuses to her family through a letter assuring them that she was simply spending some time at a friend¡¯s estate in case they opened the academy again ahead of schedule. It was technically true, and Maria¡¯s attendant was in charge of maintaining the cover story.

    Claude was not as forward-thinking, nor did he enjoy the level of independence from family meddling that Max did. She knew in the cockles of her heart that Claude hadn¡¯t even considered the problem of what his family thought he was doing when he decided to come along for the journey.

    The penny dropped when they passed through the door and into the oppressive space that Captain Wile used as his office. Samantha, Frankfort and Max stood at the rear of the room and stayed out of the way.

    His voice boomed, ¡°Claude! Your mother has been worried sick! Where have you been?¡±

    ¡°What did you do?¡± Max asked with a knowing tone of voice.

    ¡°What? All I said was that we were staying at the academy,¡± Claude insisted.

    ¡°Even though it¡¯s closed.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to worry her and it worked, until she found out...¡±

    Victor did his best not to become too angry with his wayward son - for the sake of the overworked officers on the other side of the thin walls that enclosed him. The irritation was obvious to all in the room except the very person it was aimed towards. Claude just smiled and continued, blissfully unaware of how upset his parents were.

    ¡°Honestly. I wonder where I went wrong with raising you sometimes! Do you get some kind of enjoyment out of upsetting your mother? She¡¯s going to have problems with her heart at this rate.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve not been getting into trouble.¡±

    ¡°Anywhere you can go in this city is nothing but trouble. I don¡¯t need to say that this place is a powder keg at the moment. I want you back at home and out of the way.¡±

    ¡°But this is really bloody important,¡± Claude pled, ¡°We could use your help with something. Can¡¯t you hear us out first? I¡¯ll go straight back home. I mean it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to do that, Claude. You say this all the time ¨C but once you get a silly idea in your head there¡¯s no dissuading you.¡±

    Victor was not blind to the fact that he was partly responsible for Claude¡¯s overly earnest approach to the problems in his life. He was a boy who was always eager to track down injustice and help the downtrodden, often in small but disruptive ways. He was as stubborn as a mule and wasn¡¯t above breaking the rules to get his ¡®just¡¯ outcome.

    ¡°Okay, maybe it shouldn¡¯t be a trade. It¡¯s about those warehouses that burned down.¡±

    Frankfort finally stepped in, ¡°Allow me. I¡¯ll explain to the Captain.¡±

    Frankfort showed Victor her old badge, emblazoned with her name and rank.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for that. I remember you well enough. You¡¯re with WISA on this case?¡±

    She pocketed it again, ¡°I used to be. If you¡¯re still confused about that gunfight that occurred in the offices a few days ago, that was me and a colleague getting the sharp end of the changes that Welt wanted to make.¡±

    Victor rubbed his eyes, ¡°I knew it had something to do with him. He handed us a variety of excuses about what actually happened but never settled on one story. It stunk to high heaven.¡±

    ¡°Jones thought that we¡¯d be a problem for his new vision of the agency and what it was meant to do. Retirement was not an option.¡± What was another crime to add to the pile while overthrowing the government?

    Victor was weary of saying more, ¡°Listen. I understand that you¡¯re not here to cause any trouble ¨C but I can¡¯t exactly be seen conspiring with an individual who¡¯s been involved in something like that.¡±

    She ploughed on regardless; ¡°I heard from a reliable source that you searched Welt¡¯s safehouse and found your fair share of incriminating evidence about his actions. It¡¯s not my place to pass judgment or insist that you act in a certain way now that he¡¯s deceased, but we are interested in a particular list of addresses that were included in his notes.¡±

    Victor frowned, his weathered brow creasing with fresh stress.

    ¡°How did you find out about that? Is someone in here leaking information?¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been looking into Welt ourselves, and one of my agents was specifically assigned to tracking down where he was and how they were distributing weapons to their supporters. Unfortunately, we were stopped before we could get that list.¡±

    ¡°But why do you need it now? Every single one of them was turned into rubble last night. There¡¯s no use for the list now that they¡¯ve been demolished.¡±

    Frankfort shrugged, ¡°She wants to be certain that none of them were missed. We don¡¯t know who launched that attack ¨C perhaps one of the local gangs who had been targeted by Welt originally, but they may have missed some of those weapon stashes. You can never be too safe.¡±

    Victor accepted Frankfort¡¯s explanation for why they wanted the list, not needing to hear the full story about Maria using a timepiece to loop back and organize the ransacking in question. That did not mean he was without his reservations about giving that information to them.

    ¡°You¡¯re a civilian now. Claude may trust you enough to bring you here, but I can¡¯t condone any action taken outside of the bounds of the law.¡±

    Frankfort exhaled through flared nostrils, ¡°The bounds of the law are looking awfully weak from where I¡¯m standing. When was the last time one of the federal judges had time to issue a ruling or dispense a warrant? They¡¯re all too tied up protecting their position from Ekkehard¡¯s purge.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the last thing I want to hear coming from a former WISA officer. If we don¡¯t respect the rules, then we may as well not exist as a nation.¡±

    ¡°Welt didn¡¯t respect the rules. Ekkehard doesn¡¯t. Nor does the man in charge of those mad killers. You¡¯re happy to hide behind the rule of law when Walser is in crisis because it¡¯s convenient, and allows you to avoid asking serious questions about the morality of it all.¡±

    ¡°If we step out of line then the situation will get worse. The police are here to keep the peace. I¡¯ve been resisting orders from upstairs to respond with violence to these protests for a week now.¡±

    ¡°Because you think it¡¯s distasteful, or because you don¡¯t have the manpower to do it? It¡¯s a lawful order after all.¡±

    Victor¡¯s eyes darted from Frankfort to Claude, overly aware that his son was listening to the debate that was far more complex than he originally envisioned. Victor strived to be the best Father he could, to instil in him the same values that he cared for. A respect for others, a desire to attain just solutions to his problems, and a curiosity that allowed him to become his own man in time.

    It caused tension in the house, and his wife always worried about how Claude was internalizing those lessons and expressing them around others. He was a meddlesome boy, a magnet for trouble, who loved sticking his nose into places where it didn¡¯t always belong. Despite being the son of a police captain ¨C he also cared little for the rules if they contradicted his belief in those fair outcomes. In trying to forge a righteous son he had created one who was more than happy to discard the rules.

    It was happening right in front of him. Claude had lied to him and his mother to stay away from the house and help with whatever was being done by Frankfort. He was happy to see that he was untouched, but being in the city was a horrible idea. The entire place could go up in flames at any moment.

    ¡°Being a police officer doesn¡¯t make us so inflexible, Frankfort. We bend to the winds that blow our way and try to achieve the best outcome. If every one of us strives to do our best and live up to those ideals ¨C then we can make a positive difference.¡±

    ¡°Typical evasive nonsense. There¡¯s no room for shades of grey in our world. Either the laws are dutifully executed, or they are not. What good would the government¡¯s guiding hand be if its agents of force were given so much freedom?¡±

    ¡°Do you think that we should follow orders without question?¡±

    ¡°No. I simply can¡¯t stand hearing a principled man lie to himself.¡±

    Claude stepped up, ¡°Just let me make a copy of the bloody list! I didn¡¯t come here to listen to another philosophy lecture.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t give it to you. It¡¯s evidence.¡±

    ¡°Evidence of what?¡± Claude snapped, ¡°It¡¯s too late to ask questions now. The bloke¡¯s dead! And the judges aren¡¯t going to let any case go forward against the people he was working with.¡±

    ¡°Evidence is evidence. I¡¯d have to risk pulling it out of the case file and bringing it up here.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s more important to you? Protecting people who might be killed by those rogue mages? Or just protecting your damn job?¡±

    Those words hurt Victor the most. It was a more incisive and cutting remark than whatever Frankfort could levy against him. He was trying to not let his emotions get the better of him ¨C but the image of what may come to pass should they rampage through the city was always at the forefront of his mind. How many parents would lose their children, and how many children would lose their parents? Families ripped to shreds without a second thought.

    The standoff turned into a tense silence. Claude stared his father down with no regard for their familial connection. He was willing to go that far if he felt it was the right course of action. The decision needn¡¯t be made, because events were unfolding that would soon force his hand.

    The door opened and one of his subordinates rushed in, ¡°Captain! I¡¯m getting word from near the palace that a group of madmen have opened up with firearms. It¡¯s complete anarchy!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Victor scowled, ¡°Do you know who they are?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not police officers or WISA, they¡¯re a gang of strangers. Sergeant Williamson thinks they¡¯re the same ones who attacked the Church Street lot a few weeks ago. Pale skin, delirious, violent. They started firing into the crowd with magic and guns. Dozens of protestors are dead at least.¡±

    ¡°And is Williamson down there now?¡±

    ¡°No sir, says he¡¯s not risking his boys for a bunch of protestors.¡±

    Victor was furious, ¡°I¡¯m going to wring his skinny little neck the next time I see him, so you¡¯d better warn him to get out of my sight until I calm down!¡±

    ¡°Yes sir!¡±

    ¡°Get everyone who are willing to do their bloody job and stop them!¡±

    The officer nodded and hurried away to gather some willing men and the firearms they¡¯d need to take care of the shooters. Victory covered his face and sat down at his desk, muttering under his breath. He always knew that it was going to be a problem when someone refused to follow orders ¨C and it happened at the worst possible time.

    ¡°Protecting the public doesn¡¯t seem to be the Sergeant¡¯s priority,¡± Frankfort mused, ¡°And thus the truth is presented. An institution is made of people in the end, and they can always shrug off their responsibilities to enforce their vision of society.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear it.¡±

    ¡°I was always aware of the limitations of what an organization like WISA could do, and how our government could use it to achieve their aims under the guise of maintaining law and order. The values of the police won¡¯t stop people like him from neglecting their duty.¡±

    The bustling of boot-clad feet and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room were the only sounds being made. A group of officers trained in armed response were being assembled and equipped, but Victor was worried that they wouldn¡¯t be able to stop them without causalities.

    Samantha, Max and Claude all knew that Maria wouldn¡¯t sit idly by and let them kill any more people. She¡¯d be out there trying to stop them before the situation could spread and devolve into further violence across the city. After a minute of quiet contemplation, Victor gave in.

    ¡°I already dispatched officers to investigate every address we found, and they were all destroyed, but we have no leads on anything beyond that,¡± he admitted, ¡°The archivist will have typed several copies for the detectives while the real one is kept in the evidence locker. I can get you one of them.¡±

    ¡°Just like that?¡± Max said sceptically.

    ¡°But I¡¯m only giving it to you if Claude promises to stay out of harm¡¯s way. Goddess forbid you give your poor mother any more to lose hair over! I¡¯ll tell her that you¡¯re staying with me.¡±

    Claude, predicting that he could finally contribute to the cause after a week of sitting on the side, happily agreed to the conditions being offered.

    ¡°I promise. I¡¯ve been keeping my head down the whole time.¡±

    Victor looked to the others for confirmation, who all nodded in the affirmative. Victor stood back up, moved through the door, and returned five minutes later with a piece of paper in one hand and his service cap in the other.

    ¡°Here, don¡¯t make me regret doing this.¡±

    ¡°You know me. I¡¯m as professional as they come,¡± Frankfort assured him, taking the list and folding it up.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to go and coordinate the response. I¡¯d recommend that you all stay off the streets for a few hours, or at least stay away from the palace. It¡¯s going to be dangerous. I¡¯ll show you back downstairs.¡±

    Claude remained silent during the trip back down. In the lobby, there were dozens of officers donning body armour and checking their weapons, ready to be dispatched to the scene of the crime and to maintain order in response. Victor motioned with his fingers, telling Claude that he was going to be keeping his eyes on him.

    Claude rolled his eyes, ¡°I get it. Don¡¯t get shot.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Stay safe, Miss Frankfort, and take care of these kids.¡±

    There was a lot that went unsaid during their conversation, but the urgency of the events that were now unfolding meant there was no time to explain fully. Victor was placing his faith in a group of strangers ¨C and that was rare indeed. It was a better sign than any that the situation was growing dire. He hated relying on others based simply on trust.

    ¡°Everyone who¡¯s ready to go, on me!¡±

    He marched through the door, with every armed officer stepping in unison behind him. They hurried down the road and out of sight, parting the crowded streets with verbal warnings.

    Frankfort pulled on Claude¡¯s shoulder; ¡°Let¡¯s deliver this list to Maria before anything else goes wrong.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go.¡±

    Claude could feel his nerves getting to him. This reminded him of the way he felt when the news broke that Victor had been stabbed during the cultist rampage from a few months earlier. Being a police officer was a dangerous line of work ¨C but he always seemed to make it out the other side with only a few scratches and some interesting tales to tell.

    Claude hoped that this would be the same, but he¡¯d also seen the kind of damage Welt¡¯s mutants could cause and how willingly they did so. It was going to be a difficult fight for the officers who rallied to his side.

 Chapter 158

    It happened while we were waiting for the others to get back from the police station.

    The sound of an explosion followed by a volley of almost continuous gunfire. It travelled through the streets and reached the warehouse, quickly joined by a chorus of screams and a stampede of hasty feet on the outside. My blood ran cold in an instant.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me!¡±

    Far from keeping a low profile in response to Welt¡¯s death, it seemed that the cabal had every intention of ratcheting up the stakes until the entire country descended into chaos. This would be on the front page of every newspaper in the nation, and people would not sit idly by in response to what appeared as an attack on the protestors sanctioned by the government.

    I grabbed my gun and headed out onto the street, almost being flattened by the surging crowd who were fleeing the scene in the process. I fought my way through, ducking beneath them and sticking to a clear path on the left side. Once the first wave was gone my progress became much faster. It was not fast enough.

    It happened in the plaza near the palace. By the time I arrived on the scene, it was already too late to do anything about it. The crowds scattered and ran away once the violence started. All that was left were around four dozen unmoving bodies splayed across the cobbled street. It was a disturbing sight. All they wanted to do was make their voices heard, but a certain group of people found that unacceptable.

    Discarded protest signs were stained with blood. Various belongings like shoes, bags and other items were left strewn across the plaza with them. There was no sign of the people responsible for the murders. A few stragglers poked out from behind doorways and upturned carts to see if they were still in danger.

    They were killed with magic and bullets. Some of them were left in a state that was difficult to describe in words. The sheer impact of the blast, combined with whatever they struck during their flight, left their bodies twisted and deformed. The lucky ones were simply shot dead and left where they lay.

    A ball of lead settled into my gut. I was used to gore but the context behind this massacre filled my veins with outrage. Someone was letting these maniacs loose to kill as many people as they liked. They didn¡¯t even have a good reason to do so. A lot of them were high on the rush of being ¡®immortal.¡¯

    I stood on the corner and observed an armed detachment of police officers charged into the plaza. They too were forced to reckon with the fact that the culprit had already disappeared into the urban jungle. The lead officer barked orders, splitting up the armed cops and sending them off to track them down. A few remained to usher the civilians away and start cleaning up the mess.

    I turned on my heel and headed back towards the safehouse while keeping my head turned down. I didn¡¯t know if they¡¯d caught on to what I was doing yet, but there was no need to risk being collared by the police at this stage. Veronica was waiting by the door with her hands in her pockets.

    ¡°Why did you go out there?¡± she asked.

    I glowered at her, ¡°The only reason any of this ridiculous nonsense is happening is because Durandia wants us to contain the chaos. I have to take a proactive approach to keep that from happening.¡±

    I thought that Veronica would understand that by now. All of this and the ¡®robbery¡¯ of her only daughter were interconnected. Veronica didn¡¯t accept the cause and effect behind all of these events. I pushed her inside and slammed the door shut behind us, thinking better of heading out to chase them down myself.

    ¡°Being proactive doesn¡¯t mean exposing yourself to needless risk. They must have spread our names and faces to the other members of the conspiracy by now. They could apprehend us at any time if they see us in public.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t needless. What I saw out there is going to anger a lot of people. Walser descending into violence will have unpredictable results, but none of them are good.¡±

    ¡°Is there something you¡¯re not telling me?¡±

    ¡°Did I say that the threat is much larger than a restoration of the crown already?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you did.¡±

    ¡°I strongly suspect that Durandia is worried about their meddling with the Veil. Welt wanted to use Genta¡¯s knowledge to summon demons from there, to harvest their organic material to use in his experiments and to create more soldiers. Welt is gone ¨C but the man responsible for that research is still alive.¡±

    ¡°Sloan.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. I think he¡¯s the man we should be concerned with. I also suspect that he is the one pulling the strings on their troops now. He was the most closely connected to the demon project after all.¡±

    ¡°But what would the worst-case scenario be?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°Destruction of the entire world? Durandia and Xenia made it sound as if this type of intervention is only done under extremely dire circumstances, not that you¡¯ll be happy to hear it.¡±

    Veronica rolled her eyes at me. She could put on her pragmatic face all she wanted, but I still felt that she would rather take a chance on the world ending rather than letting her daughter be used as a trojan horse for a game played by a bunch of faceless gods.

    ¡°We kill two of them and someone even worse takes their place. I don¡¯t know a damn thing about Sloan besides what Genta told us.¡±

    I was in the same boat. Genta painted a vivid picture of how far he was willing to go to get what he wanted though. The boy I¡¯d encountered before was his son, who he had injected with the compound in an attempt to ward away his illness. Whether that story was accurate or just self-serving fiction remained to be seen.

    Genta could not illuminate us on his Sloan¡¯s motives. He spent a long time around him and his son, yet there was never a direct mention of what they wanted from Welt. Genta supposed that he was a glory-hog scientist looking to break ethical boundaries and revolutionize warfare. The simplest answers were most often the correct ones, but that was a far cry from an all-out apocalypse scenario that demanded bending ironclad rules set by the gods.

    He needed to industrialize the process to achieve that hypothetical goal. He¡¯d need a source of blood for the summoning circles, some magical grunt, and an expert in the field to make sure the runes were all correct, and that wasn¡¯t the difficult part of the process. He would also have to find a way to reliably kill demons who possessed many dangerous and confounding abilities.

    Anything built by human hands would not be able to contain the likes of the Alchemist. It could instantly transmute anything it saw into liquid gold, regardless of how implausible such a feat was. That was the raw power of a creature that existed with pure magical energy running through its veins. Rules and natural laws were for suckers like me.

    What if the Alchemist was a tame demon in comparison to what Sloan wanted? His greed wouldn¡¯t let him stop there or use halfway measures. He wanted the real deal, the full-fat product that Genta warned him about. Those warnings only made his desire grow stronger. In short; I could see him screwing it up and potentially ending the world.

    As we walked through the empty storage area on the ground floor, Veronica stopped me in my tracks with an entirely different line of questioning.

    ¡°Who were you?¡±

    ¡°Why the sudden curiosity? I thought you didn¡¯t want to know anything about it.¡±

    Veronica crossed her arms and leaned against one of the pillars that supported the office floor above. She wasn¡¯t going to give me a straight answer. Veronica wasn¡¯t even sure if she wanted to hear it. She was resolute in declining to hear the story before.

    ¡°Are you hoping for an interesting tale? There was nothing interesting about me. I was nothing more than a cold-blooded killer. That¡¯s why Durandia chose me.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t get a choice?¡±

    ¡°No. I was shot dead and woke up in a different body the next morning. She didn¡¯t give me a handful of memories to make the process easier ¨C so I had to learn. I put on this fake accent and learnt about noble etiquette, and stole newspapers from my father after he was finished with them.¡±

    ¡°Like a chameleon. I noticed it right away. You always position yourself in the right places at the right times, and use your identity to ward away suspicion.¡±

    ¡°I suppose that¡¯s accurate.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never once seen the real you, then? Is there even a ¡®real¡¯ you to speak of?¡±

    I exhaled and laughed, ¡°I¡¯m very real. I never found an issue with separating my character from my personal life but this is different. I¡¯m Maria Walston-Carter now, and there¡¯s no changing it. This performance is me! I have to live with that. It¡¯s another layer of scar tissue on the top. That¡¯s all people are in the end.¡±

    ¡°Is that supposed to be a hint to your past life?¡±

    My gaze sharpened; ¡°Everyone wants to believe that there¡¯s something tragic hiding behind the curtain. Let me clear that up for you. I never had a good reason to do any of that. It was a job, like how a factory worker goes through the same routine every day without thinking about it. They get paid to operate a machine, and I got paid to put bullets in people.¡±

    Veronica already knew that scratching at the surface would not repeal the daughter she sought. It was too late for that now. The callousness of what I was saying still came as a shock to her.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°The Goddess really picked someone like you?¡±

    ¡°She wanted a killer, so she got one. I won¡¯t pretend this is atonement. I¡¯m going to be a selfish bastard all the way to the end. All of the rules I placed onto myself only served to protect my own sense of righteousness, but I never felt for one moment that I was in the right.¡±

    Veronica snapped. Her hand lashed out and grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulling me so close that I could feel her breath spilling out against my face.

    ¡°I want my daughter back.¡±

    ¡°You never had her in the first place.¡±

    Veronica clenched her fist and hoisted it into the air, intending to retaliate for my response, although it was immediately tinged with hesitation. Was she comfortable hitting me? The answer was clearly no. I held out my arms and left myself completely defenceless.

    ¡°You got screwed. We all did. I thought you were used to it by now. Stop acting like I¡¯m the one who inflicted this on you. I might be easier to reach than a Goddess - but it won¡¯t make you feel any better about it.¡±

    Veronica released me and shook her head. She had almost acted impulsively and punched her daughter in the jaw. She didn¡¯t want to do that even if she was technically the spirit of an older gentleman from another universe.

    ¡°What if you go away when all of this is over with?¡± she posited.

    ¡°That would be for the best, and it would be convenient, so it isn¡¯t going to happen.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re willing to give up a second life that easily?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a horrible person. Every second I get here is one more than I anticipated. Why the hell would I be rewarded for causing so many problems in my past life?¡±

    ¡°Do you think that the Goddess has reason to punish me?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve done while at WISA, what lines you decided to cross, or how many people you hurt and killed. I don¡¯t believe that Durandia has a particular objection to taking a life so long as it can be justified.¡±

    ¡°How reasonable of her...¡±

    The front door opened and the rest of the gang stepped through, just in time to miss the near-fistfight between me and Veronica over a problem outside of our control. Even I didn¡¯t have any ideas for how to get one over on Durandia. She could see the future, and that was ignoring what other powers she possessed. Was it even possible to harm a being made from energy and emotion?

    Veronica felt strongly about it ¨C but I wasn¡¯t in the same position. Durandia hadn¡¯t truthfully taken something important away from me. The only personal slight I faced was her using me as a tool to achieve her ends, and that was a utilitarian mindset that I had adopted many times before. Trampling over me to save an entire world was a fair deal.

    Samantha was already onto us.

    ¡°You two look like you¡¯re about to have a barmy. What did we miss?¡±

    ¡°We weren¡¯t fighting,¡± Veronica said defensively.

    Frankfort pulled out a stack of three papers and handed them to me. They were a neatly typed list of every address connected to Welt within the twin cities. A stamp with a case number and assigned officer had been placed on the top left corner of the cover sheet.

    ¡°They wouldn¡¯t give us the original, but this is a copy the detectives were using to investigate what happened,¡± Claude explained.

    Veronica peered over my shoulder and cross-referenced the addresses with what she learnt about their operation before Jones took over. At least some of them were correct, so the record looked to be legitimate. They had searched the apartment and found it hidden somewhere.

    ¡°Welt was very careful not to leave any incriminating documents around ¨C but I suppose his secret safehouse was as good a place as any to keep what he didn¡¯t burn,¡± Frankfort theorized.

    There were hard limits to how much secrecy one could maintain when running a criminal enterprise. Welt was not going to remember each and every weapon cache and deployment location off the top of his head. There had to be a list at the origin so that orders could be given and so that everyone involved understood what was going on.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have much time now. That attack at the plaza is going to light a fuse and make this entire city go up in flames, and I have to go back and deal with these caches before they can use them. You¡¯ll all have to work with the other me.¡±

    My future self did not give a specified time for me to go back with but I assumed it was soon after I received the list. The only certainty was that I had to go back and follow up on all of the leads that they did in the exact same way. I considered making a copy of the list, however, sending Claude and the others out to retrieve it was no trouble.

    Claude was happy about it too. I elected not to rob him of that personal development by trying to play smart with my bootstrap paradox. I scanned the room to try and figure out where I was hiding, but there was no sign of me.

    ¡°Why do I keep hiding?¡± I wondered.

    Samantha shrugged, ¡°Maybe you think that your present self can handle all of this stuff, and she¡¯ll show up once you leave?¡±

    Which begged the question of what exactly I was doing without the others¡¯ help.

    ¡°Whatever. I need to start planning for a rescue operation at the jailhouse. Frankfort, do you know that place?¡±

    She nodded, ¡°Somewhat.¡±

    ¡°Good enough for me. I need layout and security information.¡±

    Onwards and upwards...

    <hr>

    Jonas Rentree rushed to the operation¡¯s headquarters the moment he heard the gunfire and explosions echoing across the city. There he found Brandon Sloan and his son, issuing orders and assuming direct control over the situation. Jonas slammed his hands on the desk and called for his attention.

    ¡°I look away for two seconds and you sic those rabid dogs of yours onto the people outside the palace! Have you lost your good senses? We did not agree to this.¡±

    ¡°Do you object to fighting back against them?¡±

    ¡°There is no fight. You aspire to waste a precious resource killing weak-willed bystanders and attracting undue attention.¡±

    ¡°Undue attention?¡± Sloan scoffed, ¡°We already control the palace, the police, and the military! Ekkehard could snap his fingers and have the entire affair buried in an instant. The only roadblock is you and the rest¡¯s unwillingness to do what needs to be done.¡±

    He stood from his seat and stormed away. Jonas pursued Sloan through the halls.

    ¡°Brandon, you can¡¯t be serious!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s survival of the fittest, my friend. The cowardly and meek are going to go back to their homes and hide, while the rest grab their weapons and prepare to fight for their ideology. The victor will be written into the history books as the virtuous side in the conflict. The truest measure of any ideology is its ability to survive.¡±

    ¡°The only thing you¡¯re going to do is weaken Walser even further. We cannot afford a mass sacrifice of working-age men letting blood in the streets. There are vultures circling us as we speak, waiting for any sign of weakness or hesitation.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t speak to me about hesitation! What do you think our enemies are saying when they see these braying hordes clogging the streets and demanding revolution? A show of strength is the correct course of action. I will not have them presuming that we¡¯re incapable of controlling our ship.¡±

    ¡°The only image we project now is one of rank anarchy!¡±

    Sloan stopped in place and put himself into Rentree¡¯s personal space.

    ¡°Do you have a problem with what we¡¯ve achieved thus far?¡±

    ¡°No. I do not.¡±

    ¡°The Compromise has been confined to the rubbish where it rightly belongs. The King has been reasserted as the ultimate force within our government. The last task at hand is to end any thoughts of restoration from the Republicans. We must have the courage to take the final step.¡±

    Rentree did not see dispatching armed goons to fire into a crowd as a portrait of courage. Sloan was not there on the ground putting his safety at risk, but he refrained from saying any more than he already had.

    ¡°I am concerned primarily with where you feel this will end. I hope you have a decisive and effective plan in mind, lest we plunge Walser into more violent fighting like that which defined so much of our recent history.¡±

    Once upon a time politicians and lobbyists alike posited that the Civil War would be quick and simple. Those who felt the strongest and radicalized into violence would die first, and then all of the pieces would fall back into place. What they did not know was that by drawing blood they only inspired more citizens to join the cause. Many did not fight merely for the republican ideal, but because they had friends and family murdered in the chaos.

    ¡®Quick and simple¡¯ rapidly morphed into elongated and indiscriminate. Dozens of armed factions fought over the future of the country, and no matter how dire the consequences there always seemed to be more people willing to throw their bodies into the maelstrom. The fires kept burning ¨C and they were only extinguished with an uneasy truce.

    Rentree recalled quivering with rage when the Compromise passed through the house and was signed into law by the King. It was no victory for the monarchists, despite those who foolishly comforted themselves in the media and secret smoking rooms with tales of the citizenry¡¯s fleeting flirtation with democracy.

    Here they stood, years later, with tensions as high as they had been when the war ended. The revolution proliferated and exported itself to other countries around the continent and across the seas. Kings and nobility were expelled from their traditional places and left to lick their wounds while the common man grappled for control.

    Rentree wanted Walser to be an example to them. The damage could be undone.

    ¡°I have some good news ¨C by the way.¡±

    ¡°What kind of good news?¡±

    ¡°You may recall that Genta Cambry proved unwilling to assist us in harvesting more usable material for use with our soldiers, that and he claimed to have no memory of the important information.¡±

    Inside a small locked room, tucked away from all of the commotion was a singular man. He was sitting in the corner with his head in his hands. His grey hair and wispy moustache made him look much older than he truthfully was.

    ¡°Who is this?¡±

    ¡°This gentleman is a reformed member of the cult which ran amok some months ago. Normally I would pay no mind to them, but with Genta proving to be non-cooperative I decided that speaking with one of the few surviving members of the Scuncath could prove useful.¡±

    ¡°He knows how to summon more of those hideous creatures?¡±

    ¡°Yes. He was there when they created the summoning circles.¡±

    Rentree was off-put by his behaviour. It looked as if he didn¡¯t want to be there.

    ¡°Are you sure he can be trusted to help?¡±

    Sloan laughed, ¡°He doesn¡¯t have to do anything. All I want is for him to make one of those circles for me. I doubt he has the ability to create one that will intentionally sabotage our efforts.¡±

    Sloan could already make a basic circle ¨C but the creatures it brought forth were both small, non-threatening, and disappeared after a few brief moments on the other side. He could have theoretically killed them in that time, but the harvest would be less than ideal considering the lengthy dilution process the bodily fluids would then go through.

    They had to be big, and preferably dangerous. Sloan would never admit to as much ¨C but he did take note of Cambry¡¯s reaction to his initial plan, and further research into the incident at the fort reinforced the threat they posed. It would take time and money to construct his ideal farm system.

    But he was not as craven as Genta was. Sloan saw it as a challenge to be undertaken. Man had tamed the elements, they had transformed the world into a place small enough to be encircled within months, and now they stood on the precipice of another technological revolution.

    The Veil held many secrets. It was through the Veil that humanity would go farther than they ever believed they could before, and Sloan wanted to be the man credited for it. His face would be in every textbook and he would be spoken of with esteem even hundreds of years after his death!

    Rentree and the others did not understand his motivations. Welt promised him the space, time and resources to achieve that lofty aim, as he also felt strongly that the elevation of mankind was a priority. With Welt gone ¨C Sloan wanted to retain control over the situation and ensure that his supporters followed through on their end of the deal.

    ¡°When we¡¯re done here, Walser will truly be the unrivalled envy of the entire world. Our ascension will be admired in every country and on every continent. Our example will lead them to better themselves, is that not the most altruistic outcome imaginable?¡±

    Rentree concurred, ¡°Welt spoke at length about that idea. He said it was why he chose to work with you. I will support your efforts as long as I find them reasonable, but might I suggest leaving the politics to us?¡±

    Both he and Sloan knew what he was proposing and why. Sloan had already done enough damage with the attack on the plaza and there was no easy way to fix it. Sloan could safely hand over control to Rentree with the understanding that he would be forced into following a similar path of violent action.

    ¡°I hope you don¡¯t become meek, Rentree ¨C but I would like to focus on my work.¡±

    Rentree eyed the cultist wearily, ¡°I will not.¡±

    Sloan smiled, ¡°Good. I always knew you were the most prudent one.¡±

    Rentree begged to disagree. He was a fool for playing along with this.

 Chapter 159

    I decided that confident action was the key. We had very few leads to follow regarding Sloan and the rest ¨C so sitting around and waiting for my other self to appear and illuminate us was a waste of time. I had to trust that I could take care of it once I looped back around to this point in time.

    I took some of the supplies from our armoury and gave the others a brief farewell, before hitting the recall button on the watch and warping myself several days back in time to before the day we killed Welt. I felt a tad nauseous from the trip, however brief it was.

    I was here to stop Welt from killing Marco Fisichella, since he was the one with the know-how and manpower to track down and destroy all of the warehouses that Welt wanted to use to support his demonic soldiers. Without those warehouses their long-war prospects would be severely hampered, slackening their military grip over the city.

    Because of that, I wouldn¡¯t have time to help myself take out Welt, not that I needed the help in the first place. It would be more effective to split my efforts and attack Welt from both angles. I knew Welt was going to die in a few days ¨C so preventing his cronies from picking up the pieces was more important.

    I had my weapons, I had a time and place, and Frankfort had filled me in on how the prison was usually secured. The only thing I could do was watch and wait for them to launch their attack. It gave me a lot of time to think about why they would target Marco specifically.

    There may have been no high-minded idea behind the effort. Welt was a petty, self-obsessed man who believed that simply murdering every criminal he found was an effective strategy to stop crime in the urban centres across Walser. Even more so for Marco as he had personally crossed Welt at a time when he was attempting to clear Church Walk for redevelopment.

    That goal never came to be for a variety of reasons ¨C but he still saw him as a loose end to tie up. Any independent force who could pose a threat was something Welt concerned himself with. Marco wasn¡¯t as good at paid hits as I was, but that was an accolade seldom achieved by anyone.

    Marco and his gang could cause a lot of trouble. It only took one man with a death wish to kill someone stone dead. It was a similar conundrum that led to the creation of the mage register. There was a group of individuals who could exert deadly force anywhere at any time with no warning.

    When that kind of thought was applied to a criminal gang the calculation changed. Marco could point the finger at Welt or any of his associates and reliably expect them to be shot dead if they ever made an appearance in public. Even the most paranoid nobles did not entertain a lifestyle that demanded eternal isolation.

    I could manage it with enough visual novels, I think.

    Marco was going to direct his ire elsewhere. Not at the men who he was hired to kill, but at the foundation they were trying to construct across the city. The list in my pocket was the key that would let him eke out some payback. As for what I¡¯d do with him once he was finished ¨C I didn¡¯t know. I liked using Marco when he was convenient and not when he was getting in my way.

    I waited and waited, occasionally sneaking into the safehouse and helping myself to some food and supplies while everyone was away, which was easy given that I knew exactly where they were and when they¡¯d arrive. It took a lot of restraint not to cheer from my lookout spot when they finally arrived to try and murder the bloody guy.

    I was huddled in the corner under my coat and hat like always, occasionally shifting to a new spot to keep the heat from building with the locals when a group of five men approached the back wall of the prison building and geared up for a fight. The pale skin was a dead giveaway that they were here on Welt¡¯s orders.

    The prison itself was not a high-security location. Marco was only being held in the city because his trial had been stalled in the midst of the ongoing government chaos, with judges being reassigned and forced to handle matters that the monarchists found the most important. The safety of the citizenry was not a concern to them.

    Thus ¨C Marco had been indicted, arraigned, and assigned a defence lawyer to handle the case, which was supposed to happen promptly due to the severity of the offence he was charged with. Instead, he had been left in legal limbo for weeks, with the police unwilling or unable to move him to a remote location where the security was tighter. They probably reassured themselves by imagining that none of his friends were ballsy enough to try and spring him out with a prison break. Their loyalty could only go so far.

    Unlike his friends in the criminal underworld, these violent thugs had no issue with throwing their lives into a blender for Welt¡¯s sake. The frontman held out his palm and charged a blast of magical energy. The wall exploded inwards as the force of the field pushed the bricks out of alignment, scattering them across the rear yard as deadly projectiles.

    All five of the assassins piled in with the onlookers on the street screaming and running for cover. I waited several seconds before donning the mask and making my move across the street to follow them inside the perimeter. This was going to be tough, but somehow, my future self managed it.

    They were already breaking through the rear door when I stepped through the hole. I stayed back and allowed them to open an escape route for me and Marco. There was no need to intervene when I could use their new exits to exfiltrate with my mark. I had to take care of all five of them before grabbing Marco and making our escape.

    While they were trained and knowledgeable about the prison to some extent it quickly became obvious that they didn¡¯t know which cell Marco was being kept in, as they split into a pair of smaller groups, with the big man at the front barking orders and telling them to find him.

    Amazingly, none of them had looked behind them during that entire process. I was peering around the corner behind them and wondering when one of them was going to do it on instinct, but they never did. They were laser-focused on finding Marco and killing him as soon as possible.

    Frankfort¡¯s account of the prison was rough at best, so I didn¡¯t know where he was either. I could take the time to search for him after I killed the goons Welt had sent to kill him off. The building was separated into a main lobby, the offices connected to it, a pair of small courtrooms for pre-trial proceedings and other legal niceties, and two different cell blocks that could hold around two hundred inmates in a pinch. They¡¯d have to share the cells, but it was technically possible, if not advised given the problems that posed for the guards.

    Now the guards were worrying about something deadlier than overcrowding and fistfights between inmates. I wasn¡¯t fast enough to protect them from this marauding group of assassins. They pulled their guns and shot a pair of them down in a hail of bullets, leaving them in a bloodied, hole-filled heap against the front desk. Most of the civilians had already fled once the explosion happened, with the guards remaining behind to try and keep a prison break from occurring.

    One man kicked aside the wooden benches in front of the desk and waved his gun in the air, while the second ripped his way through the door to the back area and stepped through. I kept low and followed him inside. He was too busy menacing a poor woman cowering on the ground to notice me coming from behind.

    There was no time to waste. I annihilated his back by placing my hand against it. I could barely keep a hold of his shirt as he lost the strength in his legs and fell forward. I used all of my strength to keep him from hitting the ground and alerting the second man.

    The receptionist covered her mouth in shock. I held a finger to my mouth and mimed shushing her. I slowly let him down onto the ground and retrieved his gun, emptying the magazine and tossing it aside in case, against all odds, he got back up after having his spine severed with magic.

    I slid across the counter and beneath the glass that was used to keep the adults at bay when they visited. The other man was trying to barricade the front door using whatever furniture he could get his hands on. He finally turned around and caught sight of me.

    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡±

    I wasn¡¯t close enough to sever his neck. Instead, I used my power to vaporize the mechanism inside of his gun. He pulled the trigger but the entire thing locked up and trapped the shell in place. A follow-up heat spell ignited the gunpowder inside of the cartridge and detonated it in his hands.

    His natural reaction was to flinch away even though for him it was a minor injury at best. A few splinters of shrapnel might have gotten into the skin of his palms and fingers, but that was not going to put him down and keep him down.

    If I didn¡¯t have that bullet still agitating my leg, I might have been able to close the gap and wrap my hands around his neck before he recovered. Instead ¨C he swung at me using the wooden butt of his shotgun. I barely blocked the blow by holding up my forearm, but it was enough to send me spiralling onto the ground.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    I used all of my concentration and ability to focus my magical senses. I knew he was going to try and turn me into a red splatter using brute force, so I struck him with an electrical bolt that seized his muscles, locked his arms into place and caused him to fall to one knee.

    I charged at him again, leaping over his second swipe and getting behind him. I locked an arm around his neck and pulled back. He tried to push me back-first into the door and shake me loose, but it was too late for that. Another wave of energy eviscerated the nerves and bones in his neck and killed him instantly. His fall on the way down almost dragged me with him.

    Two down, three to go.

    It was possible that they head the sound of the fight. I hustled back the way I came and towards the cell block, only to come face-to-face with a third man walking down the corridor outside. I ducked for cover. He chose to fire at me with his gun instead of using a magic attack. So much for subtlety.

    The assassin put on his big boy pants and elected to walk towards me instead of dragging out the fight. Ironically, this idiotic strategy was the best thing he could have done. In an exchange of fire, I would always come out the loser. They could survive multiple bullets to the head whilst I could not.

    But knowing where all of the assassins were was to my advantage. With no risk of being flanked by one of them, I could take up a cover position that allowed me to relocate without him even knowing I was gone. I moved back around the corner and dipped into one of the offices.

    He kept shooting until he was around that corner himself ¨C only to discover that he had been wasting his ammo the entire time.

    ¡°Hey! Someone¡¯s over here!¡± he called out.

    Rather than waiting for his friend to join him to launch a pincer attack, he blindly walked past my hiding place without even checking the other rooms. I snuck out behind him and applied a generous dose of reality-fracturing atrophy to the base of his neck before he could react.

    There was a revolver in a second holster at the foot of his spine. The man he called out to rushed around the corner to try and locate me, not realizing that I¡¯d already killed him. I pulled the revolver loose and shot him straight between the eyes, snapping his head back and forcing him to stagger.

    Taking my chance, I fired every bullet in the cylinder. The recoil forced my arm up into the air with every attempt. Each hit ripped away more flesh and shattered bone until his head was a grisly mockery of a human head. Five shots hit the target. Blood and brain fluid leaked from the holes ¨C and it was too much for his demonic enhancements to take.

    I tossed the revolver away and hopped over, making sure not to step in his blood.

    There was only one man left. I knew that he was across the yard in one of the cell block buildings, which was why he didn¡¯t choose to come and join the party. He was only after Marco. I ran as fast as my bum leg could carry me and crossed the small outside space between the buildings. The giant hole in the wall made it obvious where my target had fled to.

    I could hear voices talking. Prisoners rattled their bars and cried out for the guards to no avail. I quickly jogged past the cells and took a right, and was greeted with another destroyed wall and the last assassin looming large over a prone Marco.

    ¡°Bastard!¡± Marco cried.

    ¡°We¡¯re here to clean up your mess.¡±

    ¡°Who are you? Here for revenge? Did I kill one of your little friends before?¡±

    The man grabbed the back of his prison uniform and forced him to face him.

    ¡°Not yet, but Welt sends his regards to another former thorn in his side.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have anything better to do than pick off a crook who¡¯s already in prison?¡±

    Watching this entire discussion play out was interesting, but I was ultimately here to rescue Marco, not watch him give his final defiant stand in the face of certain death. I swept across the hallway and approached the man from behind, holding my palm to the back of his neck and sending a surge of energy through his spinal column.

    ¡°Hello, Marco.¡±

    The man tumbled over and landed in a heap next to Marco. Despite his confusion, the gears were already turning in his mind. The emotional rollercoaster he was enduring must have been a forceful one. He was saying his prayers just then ¨C but now he had been saved out of the blue by a figure he felt was inherently untrustworthy.

    ¡°Maria?¡±

    He caught on to my identity within a second of my heroic rescue.

    I laughed, ¡°You¡¯re being let out on bail. I suggest you come with me before the guards notice that your heavy-set friend ripped a hole in the back wall of the prison.¡±

    ¡°What? Why the hell are you here?¡±

    ¡°We need you for an important task. I suggest you come with me.¡±

    He mulled over my offer for a second but there was never any real choice. It was come with me or die. There was little doubt in his mind that a second wave of killers was already descending on the building to have another go.

    ¡°Fine! This better not be a trick.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been nothing but forthcoming with you.¡±

    Honestly, I may have pushed Marco around once or twice - but I never directly lied to him about what was going on. In our line of business that was about as good as it got! He climbed back to his feet and grumbled inaudibly about being rescued by me.

    ¡°Do you have a gun for me?¡±

    ¡°I could give you one ¨C but why do you think I did not attempt to shoot that man at your feet?¡±

    He shrugged, ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re very durable. Any gunshot wounds close within seconds of being dealt, and even hitting them in the head is no guarantee. He may have killed you before I had the chance to finish him that way.¡±

    Now that I mentioned it, he recalled the inciting incident that pulled him into this mess. He¡¯d already met one of these guys before when they attacked his house. Marco glanced at his body and noted his pale skin, ¡°Shit. So that¡¯s what the big man upstairs has been working on this whole time?

    ¡°I can give you the details once we¡¯re out of here. I take it that you have a place to hide?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    I led him out through the convenient holes the assassins had left for us. Amazingly there were no guards or police officers at the scene on the road outside. We had a clear shot out of the prison and into the alleyway across the street. It was going to be a long game of cat and mouse.

    ¡°I have a good route we can use,¡± Marco said, ¡°Let me take the lead.¡±

    I nodded and stepped aside. It was time for Marco to show his credentials.

    The police weren¡¯t able to keep up with us once we found the alleyways. We slipped away into the urban maze and out of sight, keeping our heads down and moving towards Marco¡¯s safe house on the edge of the city. We¡¯d be good to have that discussion he wanted once we were there.

    While I knew that I¡¯d survive all of this to save my own ass when Welt tried to escape, I was still acting in an abundance of caution. I kept one hand on my gun and my eyes peeled for any sign of funny business coming from Marco. He lifted up a planter by the door and obtained a spare key, letting us inside and quickly closing the curtains.

    The very first thing that Marco did after escaping life in prison was walk over to one of the dust-covered cabinets and retrieve a bottle of whiskey from inside.

    ¡°Drinking already?¡±

    He was already nose-deep in a shot glass. He downed the lot in one go and slammed it down on the table between us.

    ¡°They don¡¯t offer luxuries like these behind bars. I have a keen eye for alcohol. I got it from my Father.¡±

    ¡°A self-declared connoisseur.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but he was a rotten no-good drunkard no matter how he tried to dress it.¡±

    I sat down and drew my gun, notching the safety lever and placing it in front of me as a sign of sincerity. Marco took a deep breath and tried to slap himself back to wakefulness between shots of whiskey.

    ¡°I suppose we should hurry up and have that conversation.¡±

    ¡°We should. Why did you break me out of there? I tried to kill your uncle.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s water under the bridge. This Welt problem concerns not just us, but every reasonable person living in this country. They¡¯ve taken over. The King has been deposed, they¡¯ve revoked the Compromise, and they¡¯re clearing house at WISA and in the courts. It¡¯s nothing but trouble.¡±

    Marco¡¯s face fell, ¡°Goddess help us. I daren¡¯t imagine how much of a mess that fool is going to make if they let him call the shots.¡±

    I placed the list on the table. He reached out and slid it over to his side, reading the list of addresses and stockpiles that the police had recorded in the near future.

    ¡°Where did you get this? This is a police document.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a noble. I know the son of the police captain who¡¯s handling the stalled Welt investigation. A kind word here and a favour there ¨C and you can get your hands on police work product without much trouble.¡±

    ¡°And people wonder why Walser is rotten to the core,¡± he murmured.

    ¡°Welt¡¯s killers need food, medicine, hallucinogenic drugs and weapons. These are the places where they hide and deploy when trouble needs to start. In return for the rescue, I want you to go with your men to these places and put the torch to them. Don¡¯t stay and fight. They¡¯re filled with angry mutants.¡±

    Marco laughed and took another swig, clearing his throat with the harsh burn of the long-abandoned alcohol. He quickly turned sober despite that.

    ¡°Be serious. Most of the people I work with have already moved. I may be friends with some of them, but they have bills to pay and they weren¡¯t going to wait for me being declared innocent against all odds. I always said don¡¯t wait on me when times are tough, you have to look out for yourself.¡±

    ¡°I had a feeling you¡¯d say that.¡±

    I reached into my pocket and retrieved a wad of bills I¡¯d taken from the safehouse. It was my ¡®allowance,¡¯ although it was truthfully much more than I normally received from my Father. I slammed it on the table between us. Marco¡¯s eyes practically leapt out of their sockets.

    ¡°Suro padre cay! You were carrying this with you the whole time?¡± he exclaimed, swearing in his mother tongue. I believe it roughly translated to ¡®son of a whore.¡¯

    ¡°That¡¯s my allowance. I could gather more than that if that¡¯s what it takes.¡±

    His eyes sharpened, ¡°Is there a trick to this?¡±

    ¡°A trick? This is business ¨C Marco. There¡¯s nothing that motivates people like money. I¡¯ll take a discount for the jailbreak, but I¡¯m still willing to pay. I¡¯m not expecting you to do this for nothing.¡±

    Being rich really did have its perks. I could push people around or buy them off with little trouble. The family business generated eye-watering amounts of liquid money that my Father could use as he pleased, and by extension so could I. Marco caved on the spot. All of our prior interactions, good or bad, were nothing in the face of cold hard cash.

    ¡°You give me a couple of days. I¡¯ll get the word out and see who¡¯s available to cause trouble.¡±

    I smiled. I already knew that Marco was good at keeping his word.

    ¡°Excellent. I¡¯ll visit again in three days. We have a tight schedule to keep, but I know that we¡¯ll be ready in time.¡±

    Marco assumed I was being confident, and not that I had travelled from the future where all of this had played out once before. This was going to work. I simply had to keep an eye out for any bumps in the road and make sure it went smoothly. Seeing the outcome didn¡¯t mean I could get reckless. There were still challenges to deal with to reach that goal.

    I took my gun back and stood from the table, ¡°And try not to get too drunk before we begin.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    No, he wouldn¡¯t. He was going to celebrate being a free man come what may.

 Chapter 160

    I arrived back at Marco¡¯s hidden home a few days later with a briefcase in one hand and a crate filled with empty glass bottles in the other. The door was already open, and Marco was waiting with a group of three other people. I briefly panicked imagining an ambush where I was dragged away and held for ransom.

    Such fears were unfounded for the time being. Marco saw me as a piggy bank who willingly gave him money versus a bargaining chip against one of the richest men in the world.

    He introduced me to them, ¡°Maria, this is Benny, Jack and Farhan.¡±

    Benny, who was the heavyset man at the front with a shaved head, whistled and clapped his hands together; ¡°You¡¯re working with the big-time nobles now, Marco? What happened while you were locked up in the slammer?¡±

    ¡°Nothing happened while I was in jail. They didn¡¯t make an inch of progress on getting me to trial either. Turns out that little miss Walston-Carter here has need of our particular services.¡±

    Benny didn¡¯t buy that explanation, as he was right to. Marco didn¡¯t want to go through every twist and turn in the story that led us here. He wanted to get his bag and go home, especially since that previous job with the local gang leader had gone south and left him broke.

    ¡°What did you tell them?¡± I asked. I put the case and the bottles down on the table.

    Marco waved his hand in the air, ¡°The basics. What they are going to be doing.¡±

    Benny snickered, ¡°You¡¯re lighter with the details than you like to think, mate.¡±

    Marco produced the list and handed it to me. I unfurled the paper and held it out for the three captains to see. They leaned in to get a closer look at the text that was on it.

    ¡°Gerard Verner Welt is causing a lot of trouble at the moment ¨C and I intend to ensure that he never sees his plan to fruition. I have here the locations of the weapon stashes and hideouts he intends to use to launch his takeover of the government, helpfully provided to me by a contact in the police.¡±

    ¡°There are too many addresses here for us and the lads to cover,¡± Benny worried.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have enough people?¡±

    ¡°I pulled as many favours as I could. Some of them were busy, and others refused when they heard how dangerous the job was,¡± Marco explained.

    That would make our lives a little bit harder than they needed to be. Again, I knew that this scheme would succeed in the end, but I couldn¡¯t abandon my due diligence because of that. Any problems that arose would still demand my wit and planning to resolve. ¡®Future¡¯ Maria might have called more people into the fray or taken care of some of the warehouses herself.

    ¡°All we need to do is light them on fire and escape. I take it that you¡¯re all experienced in the fine art of arson?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not complicated, lass,¡± Jack said snidely.

    ¡°Then I expect that all of you will be capable of achieving the objective,¡± I shot back, ¡°The warehouses are divided into four different areas around the cities. I want a group of men to handle each one, following the addresses on the list and burning them all to ashes as quickly as possible. I would not recommend being near them when they go up. They¡¯re filled with ammunition and other flammable goods.¡±

    Marco stroked his chin, ¡°If words gets out about the attacks ¨C then they¡¯ll be put on the defensive. We should time the assault carefully so that they never get the chance.¡±

    There were going to be a lot of moving parts. Everything had to work perfectly, but that was never a given when dealing with crooks like Marco. He was a gun for hire who brought in his friends and allies regardless of how good they were at the job. It took a single drunkard or hothead to throw the entire plan out of sync.

    I knew what time we would need to launch the attack. The earliest hours of the morning on the day where we killed Welt. When he arrived at the warehouse to seek assistance it was already burning and I was there to rescue myself. I had three days left to whip them into shape and make it go off without a hitch.

    ¡°Do you think they can handle it?¡± I asked.

    Marco nodded, ¡°They can tell the time, no problem. You don¡¯t think very highly of us.¡±

    ¡°There are thousands and thousands of things that can go wrong. I¡¯m asking if your regular allies in the field are capable of adapting and keeping their nerve. I am not implying that this is an easy job.¡±

    Besides, I had brought a reward along that I hoped would coax them into behaving how I wanted. I sought out Franklin during the week and pulled some strings to get cash that was beyond my normal allowance. I flipped the latches on the suitcase and revealed the grand prize for Marco and his friends.

    A collective gasp filled the air. The gruff gangsters were all infatuated with the sight of the cash that lay within the trunk. Row after row of one-thousand Walmark bills, the highest denomination that the central bank produced. They had probably never seen so much money in one place before.

    ¡°Eight-hundred-thousand marks, with four-hundred-thousand more once the job is done. Divide that up between all of your men and it should work out to a fairly handsome payday, correct?¡±

    Marco couldn¡¯t believe his eyes; ¡°You¡¯re paying us one million marks?¡±

    ¡°One point two, all totalled...¡±

    ¡°Are you insane? Where the hell did you get so much money from?¡±

    I shrugged, ¡°My Father wipes his buttocks with this kind of money. It¡¯s a rounding error, a decimal on the balance sheet, he won¡¯t even notice it¡¯s gone.¡± As for the ¡®insane¡¯ allegation ¨C Marco was already equipped with the answer to that. I was not going to take no for an answer.

    Marco glanced at his buddies, ¡°I thought you wanted a discount for the rescue.¡±

    ¡°This is the discounted rate. Considering the risks involved and the number of people required ¨C it only felt right to offer a competitive wage for the labour.¡±

    ¡°She is insane,¡± Benny said in awe, ¡°No sane noble would ever say that.¡±

    Jack was more aggressive in his questioning, ¡°What¡¯s the bloody catch? Is all of this money counterfeit? Are you going to turn us over to the coppers and say that we stole it from you?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t offer you an answer that you will believe. By all means, if you feel that the prospect of accepting this job is too risky, you can simply turn it down.¡±

    There was no requirement for me to argue on his terms. He had decades of experiences and views that I could not easily navigate or argue against in the short window of time that we had. I was familiar with his type, so instead of trying to make a stubborn mule change his entire view of the world I appealed to the strongest force in his id. He did not want to miss out on the chance to make a lot of money.

    Farhan joined the fray on my side. He picked up a bundle of notes and held them up to the light creeping through the shuttered curtains.

    ¡°They¡¯re real. Where would a prissy noble get counterfeit cash anyway?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯m not eliminating the possibility. All of this stinks. A teenage girl asking us to run a dangerous job for a lot of money? This entire contract is a warning sign.¡±

    Benny shrugged, ¡°I guess we get a bigger share of the pot then...¡±

    Jack was incensed; ¡°I never said I wasn¡¯t going to tag along! Marco¡¯s vouching for her.¡±

    Marco gave off a sour expression that silently stated that Jack was overstating how hard he was ¡®vouching¡¯ for me to his regulars. He just wanted to save face and stay on the team by passing the responsibility off onto him. There was no trust in the room with us ¨C which was why an ironclad contract and a good monetary reward were quite literally on the table.

    Jack found it hard to make his case now that everyone in the building was on the same page. He could either submit to peer pressure and come along with the plan, or he could leave and miss the chance to get his cut of the pie. It was obvious which course of action he was going to take ¨C but he made a show of looking displeased about it.

    ¡°Fine! I suppose if Marco is willing to accept this job, I can¡¯t say no. I hope you¡¯ve done your diligence in making sure this is all on the level.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Marco nodded knowing that he hadn¡¯t done any diligence at all. He probably wasn¡¯t even sure if I was going to come back to the house after he asked to meet me again. That giant trunk of money could paper over a lot of cracks in our working relationship.

    ¡°I can also provide you with some extra weapons and ammunition if your other members don¡¯t feel safe. We shouldn¡¯t need them for what we¡¯re trying to do though,¡± I offered.

    Marco waved it off, ¡°It should be okay. We have a list of addresses and the element of surprise. They won¡¯t be able to stop us from torching the buildings unless information about this leaks out to them. I¡¯m only contacting the people I trust.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Then allow me to go into detail.¡±

    Over the next hour, I went through the in-and-outs of the plan for each of the leaders in the room. They would lead their designated group of crooks to the districts in question and dispatch them to the warehouse addresses with a Molotov cocktail or alternate incendiary device in hand. At twenty minutes past three in the morning, they would let loose and set the fires.

    There weren¡¯t enough people to burn them all down at once, so some would have to pull double duty and run to the next before the alarm could be raised. None of them were to stick around and watch the fireworks. All of them would have to escape into the night before the watchmen came looking for the culprits.

    That was all the easy stuff. Routing them to get there and escape, and affording them enough time to reach their stakeout spots was the hard part. We couldn¡¯t have them linger outside of the building for an elongated period of time. It was likely that there would be a night watch at most of them.

    Discipline would be key. A single person acting out of turn could scupper the entire scheme in an instant. I also had to create contingency plans in case someone screwed up big time. Ideally, we would still be able to target and destroy most of the warehouses even if the alarm went out. The list was a complete catalogue of every warehouse in the city ¨C but what Marco and the others didn¡¯t know was that the ones marked with a red X had been burnt down a few days from then.

    There were two on the list that had not been destroyed, which was an incredible success rate on such short notice. I wavered between telling the goons to stay away from those ones to be safe, or sending them anyway and letting things play out as if I didn¡¯t possess that knowledge.

    It would be dangerous for the men assigned to that role, and it was unfair of me to use them as game pieces on a board, but excluding two of the targets without a solid reason would arouse unwanted suspicion from a group I was already treading on eggshells with. The perfect plan didn¡¯t exist.

    For their part, Jack, Benny and Farhan all understood the plan as it was. These three along with Marco would be leading the charge, while I handled the inner-city area so that I could be in the right place to catch and kill Welt. That entire firefight by the warehouse was a blur ¨C but I was fairly certain that Frankfort or I were about to be turned into paste by one of his mages...

    ¡°So, you know the stakes, you know the reward, and you know the plan. Is there anything else that has to be addressed, or are you all happy to take the job?¡±

    Benny shrugged, ¡°I do whatever Marco wants, usually. Hasn¡¯t led me wrong yet.¡±

    Farhan was the same; ¡°I¡¯m not turning this one down. Money¡¯s too good.¡±

    And my strategy to isolate Jack from the group worked like a charm. He said nothing but nodded in agreement with the other two. The allure of the payout was overriding his scepticism about the job. Free-market economics at its finest.

    The only thing left to do was wait and find a good place to watch the fireworks. I had a spot in mind already. I just had to gain unlawful entry to the spire and set up my stuff.

    <hr>

    Three days passed quickly.

    I didn¡¯t feel anticipation for what was about to happen. When I said that this was a job for me to the others, I meant it. Did a working man feel nervous when he clocked in for his nine-to-five on a foggy winter morning? My emotions only ever came alive when I was in the thick of it and things were going wrong.

    I was hidden on the top floor of an abandoned chapel close to my first target. It was cold ¨C but the view was worth the discomfort. I could practically see both twin cities from where I was seated. The chairs of political and industrial power in Walser were connected across a broad river and sprawled outwards for miles on both sides.

    A blanket of fog had emerged before my eyes. Lanterns and electric lights illuminated the urban areas, defining the classical architecture of detailed stonework and eccentric statues clinging to the corners of the buildings. Giant smokestacks broke through the canopy and reached high into the air. It was a sight to see, completely unlike any I could have found back on Earth in my past life.

    I was in a contemplative mood, and the almost whimsical view I enjoyed made me consider what the benefit of this second life even was. I was always so focused on stumbling from one crisis to the next that I never had the chance to enjoy myself. I was always playing my role, or getting into danger, or worrying about what the other important characters were doing.

    This was a pretty good view. I decided to enjoy it as much as I could before the party started.

    The tones of grey, black, blue and yellow were joined by a more vibrant shade of orange. It seeped through the fog and tinted it strongly. More and more of those orange splotches started to appear in turn across the city, and after that smoke began to rise from each burning building. I used Adrian¡¯s watch to keep a close eye on their pace. Right on schedule. Nice to see that Marco brought his best for this one.

    More than two dozen fires sprouted across the city within four minutes. This was followed by the ammunition stockpiles inside being burnt up with them, causing small and deafening explosions that furthered the damage the flames caused. Soon after the fire bells started to ring, and volunteers assembled to control the blazes.

    I crossed my fingers and hoped that bystanders wouldn¡¯t get caught up in the fires, but we couldn¡¯t sit back and allow these stockpiles to fester. They could cause a lot of death and destruction using those weapons, far more than the fires Marco¡¯s men were setting.

    I donned my mask and my box of cocktails, walking down the winding steps and out onto the street. I moved quickly but quietly ¨C slipping through alleyways and taking the road less travelled until I reached the first building. I was certain that all of the addresses were accurate. The police had double-checked them, and this was taken from Welt¡¯s personal record of where they were located.

    I had three locations to take care of. The first building was easy. There was an open window near the back which I could reach through and pull aside the shutters. I stared through the glass and ascertained that crates of ammunition were being stored inside. I struck a match, lit my cocktail and dumped it through onto the nearest box.

    There was no time to stick around and see the chaos unfold. I ducked out of the alleyway and headed across the opposite side of the block and over a small bridge to the other side of the district. Near a set of riverside docks was the second target. There was a man sitting on the front porch, seemingly unaware of the chaos unfolding across the bridge and throughout the city.

    That lack of awareness would cost him and his friends dearly. I kept out of his field of view and skulked down the alleyway next to the warehouse. This building was unmistakably the one I was searching for. The police had marked down the exterior features when they compiled their own list, most notably a large sign out front from the previous owners that had never been removed.

    I lit my second bomb and tossed it through the nearest window. The reaction was immediate ¨C with a rush of hot air blowing through the shattered glass. Unlike at the last location, the guards here were already awake. I could hear them panicking from inside as the fire spread rapidly from place to place, turning the boxes of supplies into deadly hazards that they couldn¡¯t risk touching.

    I was already gone by the time they got out onto the road to wake the night guard from his nap. The last destination was the most important. I crossed the bridge on the other side of the island and headed deeper into the dense, residential areas that were nearby. The buildings became taller and more ornate, a visual depiction of the value of each property slowly increasing the further away I was from the warehouses and other small-scale industries.

    I could already hear the gunshots as Frankfort, Veronica and I cut a swathe through the guards in Welt¡¯s apartment. There were eyes peering through the curtains of the buildings, curious as to why such a rancorous gunfight was happening in the middle of the city.

    When I first saw myself arriving on the scene to save the day I presumed that I had waited in the wings to make it as dramatic as possible. I did not have a flair for the dramatic unless it assisted in achieving my goals ¨C so it was becoming clear that the real reason was because I legitimately cut it very, very close.

    Burn the building and get out of sight.

    I lit the final cocktail and tossed it into the nearest window. It gracefully arced through the air and crashed through the thin glass, before exploding into a warm orange explosion on the inside of the storehouse. It went up like a box of kindling. The drugs and ammunition inside, combined with the wooden frame that held the building aloft, quickly caught alight and started to hollow the entire building from the inside out.

    The men on the inside panicked, but this location was less protected than the others. I counted four distinct voices. One of them was the mage who would have killed me or Frankfort if not for my usage of Adrian¡¯s watch to get here. I could understand why it was such a treasured family heirloom. It possessed an incredible amount of power, even more so when combined with a battery made from demon blood...

    I counted down the seconds until we arrived. I hid in the fog and tried to keep myself out of their line of sight. Welt staggered through the mist with a look of pure desperation on his face, which only worsened when he discovered his potential salvation going down in flames.

    The fight was unfolding. I could hear every detail and recall it in perfect detail. Frankfort was trying to get the killing blow, but at that moment an enraged mage leapt from the smouldering wreckage and struck her arm with a bolt of magic, sending her sprawling onto the ground and endangering us all.

    I stepped forth and stopped him with my patented spell, severing his neck and dumping him to the ground. I drew my gun and pointed it in Welt¡¯s direction. He screamed and held out his hands in a useless effort to keep the inevitable from occurring.

    ¡°Wait, you can¡¯t do thi-¡±

    I didn¡¯t have time to listen to him beg. I pulled the trigger and flinched at the recoil. I pushed my hand forward with each pull, urging the bullets to hit their mark just that little bit faster. Welt was ripped from side to side by the force of each gunshot wound, tearing at his flesh and shattering bones. I almost emptied the entire magazine before he finally fell into the gutter, his formerly white bedclothes stained red with his blood.

    I have to say ¨C it was cathartic to be the one killing him this time around.

    In a similar sense, I got some satisfaction from being the one holding the cards. I was confusing my own past self, and it took a lot to resist the urge to tease the group after such a harrowing experience. I needed to explain and get them out of there.

    Veronica glanced between me and me.

    ¡°Why the hell are there two of you?¡±

    My old self sighed; ¡°Adrian gave me his watch. I suppose this means I have to go back and set all of this bullshit up in advance?¡±

    I nodded and handed over my cliff notes of the previous seven days, sans the exact locations of the warehouses. I never got around to making a copy of the list because Marco wanted it while he was organizing his people. It didn¡¯t matter though, Claude had to visit the police station and meet with his father, and it wasn¡¯t a big deal to do so.

    But from that moment on I was flying blind. I didn¡¯t know what was coming.

 Chapter 161

    I was back at Marco¡¯s place the next day to pay out the rest of the contract. He was already spying on the street through a small gap in the curtains when I arrived. The door was unlocked, so I slipped inside when nobody was looking and found him sitting on a chair next to the front window.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the rest of the money right here. I trust that you¡¯ll properly dispense it to your men for the job?¡±

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯m not burning my bridges just yet.¡±

    It certainly did not look as if he was planning on sticking around though. Despite having been in the house for some time, he had left it entirely bare of personal belongings and took little care in keeping it clean. There was no realistic prospect of Marco being able to stay in Walser now that he was a fugitive. He would likely have to flee back to his parent¡¯s homeland and keep a low profile for once.

    That was one quirk of living in a world like this. Someone could commit a horrible crime and disappear the next day, fleeing across borders and fading into a fresh community with a new name and story. Extradition treaties were as old as the states that bartered using them ¨C but they were essentially powerless when the surveillance state was not sufficiently advanced.

    Marco stared at me while I hefted the second suitcase of cash onto the table. He was trying to assess what I was thinking in that moment. I could tell that he was of two minds about this arrangement, even if he wasn¡¯t willing to turn down a huge payday for the hunch he had.

    ¡°I saw the news. It¡¯s on every front page.¡±

    ¡°What news would that be?¡±

    ¡°Welt¡¯s dead. Wasn¡¯t that why you organized that show last night?¡±

    ¡°I will neither confirm nor deny that I was the one responsible for shooting Welt.¡±

    Marco glared at me, ¡°You did then. You were the one who finished him off.¡±

    It was generally considered bad form by professional fixers and crooks to ask these types of questions unless it was a dick-measuring contest. Marco already knew that I was willing to get my hands dirty to get my way. I had nothing to gain from telling Marco any more information than he needed to know. I kept my lips sealed and turned to face him with my arms crossed.

    ¡°Are there any other matters to speak of? Did anyone get killed?¡±

    Marco was disquieted by my changing the subject, ¡°No. One idiot got injured by smashing a window and cutting his arm, but they all got away before they could catch them.¡±

    I smiled, ¡°Then there¡¯s no need to look so glum. Everyone¡¯s a winner! You and your partners get paid handsomely, Welt¡¯s plans for Walserian domination have gone down in flames, his victims have their retribution, and you¡¯re free to do as you like.¡±

    ¡°Do as I like? I¡¯m a wanted man. Unless I want to spend the rest of my days being hunted like a dog, I¡¯ll have to leave Walser. This is the only home I¡¯ve ever known.¡±

    ¡°Not to be harsh ¨C but that is the risk you run in this line of business. I¡¯m certain that my money will go far in finding you a new place to reside, and that is preferable to the alternative of staying here. Welt might be gone, but I imagine the sentencing for your crimes will be harsh.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m gallows bound. I¡¯m more than aware of that.¡±

    He pushed himself up from the chair and stretched out to his full height. He walked to the table and unclipped the front, quickly rifling through the stacks of paper bills to make sure that they were all legitimate and denoted as promised.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you haven¡¯t turned me into the police yet and gotten your money back.¡±

    ¡°I am not so foolish as to incriminate myself to save some money, Marco. As I said ¨C my father would sooner wipe his bottom with those notes than ever find something worthy of spending them on. He won¡¯t notice it¡¯s missing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about the money. It¡¯s the morality of it all.¡±

    I laughed so hard that it made him jump from its volume and abruptness. It bounced from wall to wall and echoed in his ears like a warning siren.

    ¡°Morality? You should find a new career as a comedian. When have I ever given you the impression that I care one bit about what¡¯s moral or not? The only standard I hold myself by is the one I set. I care little for the judgement of others, nor am I willing to proclaim my superiority over you. My hands are every bit as bloody as yours.¡±

    Marco tensed. I pulled my pistol from the inside of my jacket and pointed it at him.

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    I pulled the trigger. A loud click rang across the table.

    Marco flinched.

    ¡°It¡¯s not loaded.¡±

    He gritted his teeth and scowled at me, ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s cut to the heart of the matter here. You¡¯re most concerned about me turning you in, or the reverse occurring, and me attempting to kill you to prevent that from happening.¡±

    Marco slammed the trunk shut, ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°I could have done that just now. I could have shot you and left with my money, and nobody would ever find out it was me. I am simply demonstrating the absurdity of the situation. Keeping the peace is best for both of us. I won¡¯t stop you from leaving ¨C but I won¡¯t stand for you backstabbing me on the way out.¡±

    It was a threat and a demonstration. Marco was not to be trusted now that our contract was complete. He could do any number of things to try and screw me over. I showed him that I could kill him whenever I pleased. It only took a momentary lapse of concentration for it to end.

    ¡°Don¡¯t screw with me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not. The most valuable possession you have isn¡¯t that trunk, it¡¯s your life. You only get one - and it¡¯ll be over before you realize it. Don¡¯t waste it.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t going to kill Marco. He still had to hand out the rest of the payment to his underlings for the good work, and I was always a firm believer that one should be rewarded appropriately for their labour. Not to mention what a shitstorm it would be to have the entire criminal underworld gunning for me for failing to pay up.

    I hovered by the door with one foot already across the threshold, ¡°That is all I have to say on the matter. It would be best that we never meet in person again, and I suppose that will be easy given your status as a wanted man.¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m not staying here for long.¡±

    ¡°Then I won¡¯t waste any of your time. Enjoy the money.¡±

    With that, I closed the door behind me and started to head back down the street. I happened to cross paths with Benny, the man who Marco assigned to one of the districts, and he gave me a faint wave before discovering that I was not interested in returning the favour. I marched past without sparing a second glance.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    <hr>

    Marco was still licking his wounds and counting his wads of cash when Benny pushed through the door. Marco was convinced that Maria had changed her mind and returned to kill him, but his paranoia was unfounded.

    Benny frowned, ¡°You¡¯re on edge today. What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Can you blame me? This is going to be my last week living in Walser. I have to leave everything behind and move on. I said I would not get sentimental about it, but it pains me to leave behind my connections with people like you. A trusted hand is a rare find these days.¡±

    ¡°Well, I get not wanting to go back into that shithole prison, and there was that attack that ruined your old house...¡±

    Benny was not the brightest bulb around, so he often missed the finer details of what he was speaking about with Marco. He would stumble headfirst into emotionally fraught territory without thinking, or forget to push further when Marco was hiding a problem from him.

    ¡°That trunk, did Maria hand over the rest of the money?¡±

    ¡°She did.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s funny. I saw her walking down the street just now.¡±

    Marco shook his head, ¡°I don¡¯t want to deal with her ever again, and I won¡¯t have to once I move out of here. There is something horribly wrong with her.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t on that job, but isn¡¯t she the one who intervened at the museum? That was her uncle you were trying to wack.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened to create a person like that. She¡¯s only a teenager, but she runs around gunning down whoever she pleases, burns down buildings, and hires criminals like us to help do her dirty work.¡±

    Benny shrugged, ¡°Nobles.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t assume that all nobles are bloodthirsty killers. It¡¯s an unhelpful answer.¡±

    Nobles had the incentive to use violence to get their way ¨C but Marco was usually the one being paid to make that happen. He had never encountered someone in high society who was willing to actively become an involved party in the execution of the job. There was more to this that he couldn¡¯t see.

    Regardless of his feelings, there was nothing more to do. He was one of the most wanted men in the nation and his window of opportunity to escape would not last forever. The instability that was now ongoing because of Welt¡¯s coup presented the perfect chance for him to buy a ticket on the nearest seafaring vessel or continental train and fly the coop.

    Getting involved with Maria felt like a bad omen. He could ponder the answers in his own time, far away from here, where she couldn¡¯t track him down and make good on that promise from earlier.

    ¡°Why not sell her out to whoever comes knocking? I bet those monarchists would pay good money for information about who¡¯s messing with ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°Sell her out? Ever since I got involved with the Church Street gang they¡¯ve been trying to murder me. They¡¯re not going to stand there and let me speak. They¡¯re going to put a bullet in my head the first chance they get. I¡¯ve been burned three times now. I¡¯m not sticking around to get burned again.¡±

    ¡°Really? You always have a hard time turning down a messy job when the money¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°They might be messy but I¡¯m still the one in control. They want to eliminate the criminal element in Walser completely. It¡¯ll be heavy-handed policing and secret death squads before you know it. They are not interested in using us to get the job done.¡±

    The incident at the prison was the final nail in the coffin for Marco. Staying in Walser at this point was suicide. At the present moment, he was being pursued by the monarchists for interfering with their crime-reduction plans and as a means to further that goal by removing one of the most infamous professional criminals in the country.

    Oddly it was Maria who struck him as the bigger problem. Not only did she know where his safehouse was, but she was savvy to a lot of information that he wasn¡¯t comfortable sharing. Nobles were stupid and vain, so what kind of maniac did she have to be to engage so openly in his line of business? Combining influence, money and killer instinct was a dangerous mixture.

    He was getting out. It was time to quit while he was ahead. He had the cash to move away and start over somewhere new, even after the police shuttered his account with the local bank and raided his house to steal what he was keeping hidden under the floorboards. That was why he split up his ill-gotten gains between several hiding places, including entirely different houses bought under fake names and identities.

    It would be a pain to set all of this up again. Marco was not certain if he would return to a life of crime in his new home. Getting in on the bottom floor with the resident criminals could be difficult, and it wasn¡¯t worth it if they didn¡¯t pay good rates for the blood, sweat and tears.

    ¡°If you¡¯re crazy enough to try and let them know, then I cannot stop you. I wouldn¡¯t advise doing it.¡±

    Benny never listened to him though. Marco was a touch worried about what he was going to do when he wasn¡¯t around to act like a voice of reason. There was no honour among thieves, but he and Benny had a closer relationship than most. They were friends, as much as they could be when so much money was on the line. It was natural to think about the worst-case scenario where someone in on the scheme tried to take more than their cut and leave the others in the hands of the police.

    Benny made a strange noise using his lips, ¡°I¡¯m not going to do that. Where would I even start? A schlub like me isn¡¯t getting in touch with the puppet masters behind the scenes anyway. They¡¯re probably all meeting in secret in those gentlemen¡¯s clubs, or in a nice, comfy mansion out in the countryside. Being a noble must be nice.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re a group of cutthroats all the same,¡± Marco grumbled, ¡°They express it differently to the likes of us ¨C but they¡¯re not better for it. The kids aren¡¯t spared from that either. They¡¯re all fighting for every scrap they can get from the moment they¡¯re born.¡±

    Marco had rather fond memories of his childhood, growing up in a tight-knit community and not having to worry about where his next pay packet was coming from. That was a long time ago though, and it felt like an entire lifetime with the Civil War dividing it in two.

    ¡°True, but I know what I¡¯d rather be.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I won¡¯t argue with that. Not having to worry about money and comfort is worth everything in the world, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m not shedding any tears for those lucky bastards.¡± He took out three bundles from the trunk and handed them to Benny, ¡°Don¡¯t spend it all in one place.¡±

    ¡°You kidding me? I¡¯m going to drink myself and my mates under the bloody table with this.¡±

    ¡°Maybe the reason we¡¯re not living the easy life is because we¡¯re not investing in the stock market.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how that shit works,¡± Benny shrugged while shoving it all into his ill-fitting coat, ¡°And I¡¯m not learning now. Too old for it.¡±

    Marco looked into the trunk with a furrowed brow, ¡°I¡¯m going to have to distribute all of this before I go. Are you going to see Jack soon?¡±

    ¡°Aye. You want me to take his boys¡¯ share?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll need to find something to put it in first. Give me a second.¡±

    Marco wandered away to find something appropriate to put the money into so that Benny could take it without attracting attention. It had been so long since he visited this house that he wasn¡¯t sure what was available. There was a dusty old revolver left alone and forlorn in the bedside cabinet, and some spare clothes, but nothing in the way of living conveniences.

    There was one personal item hidden in the house. It was an old portrait of his mother and father. It was rather small and the details were difficult to make out, but he recalled that his mother liked to place it above the fireplace. He dusted it off and stared at it for a moment, before putting it down on the bed for later. Maybe he¡¯d take it with him when he moved out of Walser.

    He eventually found an empty wooden crate. He tucked it under his arm and headed back down to the ground floor where Benny was still waiting, but he was now sitting next to the window with a lit cigar in his mouth.

    ¡°Use this. It¡¯ll make you look like a merchant.¡±

    ¡°I wish there was a way I could get you to stick around though. We¡¯ve been working together for so long and all, and I¡¯m never going to find good jobs like you do.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve learnt enough from me to manage that by now. I¡¯d prefer to stay in Walser too ¨C but I don¡¯t have a choice. The police are going to come down on me like a pallet of bricks once the unrest is settled.¡±

    ¡°Shame. Let¡¯s make the most of it and burn through the rest of your beer before you go.¡±

    Marco was expecting him to say that. He shook his head and wandered over to his stash, finding a pair of clean glasses and rifling through the selection. Benny always drank beer and nothing else, so his whiskey and scotch were safe for now.

    The next several hours were spent getting loaded with everything left in the cabinet and regaling his ¡®friend¡¯ with every story he could think of. From the earliest jobs he performed to get into the Walserian underworld, to polishing his skills and becoming a feared killer-for-hire, no stone was left unturned. Many of those stories he had never told to anyone, not even Benny.

    All he was left with in the end was a collection of empty bottles and a forlorn sensation of having lost his home. Nobody else would agree with having him around given his numerous crimes, but even criminals had emotional attachments to the places they lived.

    The party had to end eventually. Marco always expected it to be at gunpoint though. He put the empty glasses down on the counter in the kitchen and returned to find Benny already blacked out and sleeping on his couch. The money would have to wait until tomorrow to be delivered.

    Perhaps a fresh start was for the best. No more worrying about pleasing gang bosses or navigating complicated interpersonal relationships and long-running grudges. How long would it take for him to get back into trouble again? It wasn¡¯t as if he was skilled at anything outside of committing crimes and murdering people, and he was too old and didn¡¯t have the background to become a salaried soldier.

    The days of walking up to the nearest base and being handed a gun were over. Most nations were moving over to a professional standing army model instead. A single well-trained man could be as effective as twenty untrained peers. That was tomorrow¡¯s Marco¡¯s problem, not the drunken man stumbling up the stairs.

    It was always tomorrow¡¯s problem.

 Chapter 162

    I was back at the safe house, no longer having to hide away from myself and the others since the cat was out of the bag. I was back to being blind again. I didn¡¯t know what I was getting up to while my past self was playing catch-up with the warehouse problem.

    My mind was in two very different places. I sat by the window and watched the world go by, considering all of the information that we possessed and what our next move would have to be. Sloan was the biggest threat in my eyes. He was the one who wanted Genta to help him summon more demons from the Veil so he could build an army of mutant soldiers. Nothing good could come of meddling with that place, and how he was in control of the operation.

    I would have preferred to sever every head of the hydra in rapid succession. That kind of convenient solution did not present itself to us though. We consistently ran the risk of having someone else take over when Welt died, and now that problem was fully realized.

    But I had no leads to go on, no locations or people to press for information.

    I spent the next two days sitting and contemplating what was happening. Not just on a micro scale, but on a macro one too. All of these games that Durandia was playing with me, and how I sat there and took the hits, playing my part like a good little soldier. I was an empty-headed mass that accepted whatever bullshit was poured into it. A black hole.

    I always broke out into these small depressive episodes when I had nothing to do. I¡¯d fiddle with my fingers and stare into space, giving myself enough time to rue my past choices. I could have been a normal, respectable guy, but that wasn¡¯t the path I chose. It wasn¡¯t good enough for me and my pride.

    When I gained the luxury of choosing which jobs to take I refocused on picking off the real bad dudes. The ones who killed, trafficked, extorted and violated. The definition of dogshit given human form. Still ¨C polite society liked to imagine softer, more gentle solutions than infiltrating a drug-fuelled orgy and pumping a 9mm round through their skull.

    I used to feel the same. I felt guilt about it for years, but a sense of nihilism was nurtured in me through my experiences. Laws and moral standards were just a load of crap that people used to make their abuses acceptable. Murdering someone with a weapon was bad form but killing thousands by passing a piece of malicious legislation was just fine.

    Perhaps it was easiest to describe it as seeing myself as ¡®exceptional.¡¯

    Not everyone had the nerve to kill a man, and most still wanted to believe that the polite, civil way of handling problems was the best. I wanted to be the scalpel, excising the rot before it could spread and cause even more damage. Get in early before they could sink their hooks into the institutions and bodies that were meant to protect people.

    The means informed the outcome. It sounded like I was a lunatic thinking that after proclaiming my love of killing people - but that was my honest opinion. If someone wanted a nice, neatly wrapped conclusion, then they would have to come up with a methodology that ensured it came to be. There was a clean way to end a life.

    Not everyone needed to be a violent avenger with a gun and no moral qualms. I needed to be ¡®exceptional¡¯ because the view from below made it obvious that there was a value to their naiveite. I didn¡¯t place my trust in rules and systems. I could only trust what I did for myself.

    I couldn¡¯t sit around and waste time with a threat looming on the horizon. Finding out where Sloan was and putting an end to him and his schemes would be our first priority. The death of Welt would lead to significant changes behind the scenes, and potentially alter their strategy moving forwards.

    Welt had intentionally avoided doing overly inflammatory things during the takeover. Sloan did not have the same restraint. He was going to kill as many people as it took to consolidate their power over the country ¨C and I suspected that the former King and his family would be in the crosshairs too. It was surprising to know that he was still alive.

    It was high time that I started to throw my weight around. I had to put myself in the right place at the wrong time, preferably with a solid idea of when and where that was supposed to be. Micah was a bust after compromising Jones, and I wouldn¡¯t be able to get close to him again anyway.

    My other options were Jonas Rentree and Jerimiah Vincent. There were the big men on the board responsible for influence peddling. Franklin was wise to some of the rumours about them. Jonas in particular had been making an aggressive push to secure support from the noble class for a restoration of the old guard.

    That was likely predicated on any revolution at home not biting into the productivity of their businesses. Rentree would have a lot of work to do once Sloan turned up the heat and started killing protesters in the street. That was bad for business. They wanted all of the benefits of a deregulated monarchist state with none of the risks.

    The sound of feet moving across groaning wooden floorboards snapped me back to reality. I turned in my seat and spotted Frankfort leaning against the door. Frankfort was still an enigma to me. We had barely spoken at all.

    ¡°Hello Frankfort. Can I help you with something?¡±

    She gave me a wry smile; ¡°A lot, actually ¨C although there¡¯s little time to see all of our problems tidied away.¡±

    A confident step across the threshold of the loft declared her intent to have a proper discussion with me about what was going on.

    ¡°That watch is an interesting trick. I wish I had one of those when I was still active in the field.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not as helpful as you¡¯d think given the limitations. We don¡¯t have a good way to charge it again. All of the blood we stole from the tower has dried up. It¡¯ll take years to be usable now. Is there a reason you want to speak with me?¡±

    ¡°Do I need a reason? I¡¯m curious. Veronica and I-¡±

    ¡°Gwyneth. If you want to have a heart-to-heart, at least use her real name.¡±

    ¡°She has been Veronica Gladwell for longer than she¡¯s been Gwyneth Gladwell, I can assure you of that. I¡¯d argue that the pseudonym has subsumed her real moniker. That¡¯s how devoted we are to the job.¡±

    What a tired clich¨¦...

    ¡°And what did you both get for years of tireless public service? A gun pointed to your back and a summary dismissal from your posts. I would have thought that having the organization turned against you so easily would give you pause.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no time for that. I believe that WISA can be a force for good, but unfortunately that kind of power appeals to opportunists like Bernard Jones. I wanted to thank you for stepping in and saving my life. That mage was moments away from shattering every bone in my body.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to thank me. Consider it repayment for staying in the fight despite everything that¡¯s happened.¡±

    Frankfort sighed, ¡°It¡¯s only natural that I stay to try and stem the bleeding. I can¡¯t enjoy any potential retirement if these nobles are trying to burn down the country. Ultimately, stability is the one thing everyone desires ¨C even if they won¡¯t admit it.¡±

    The burgeoning anarchist movement would like to have a word with her, but I refrained from delving deep into political and moral arguments over what people really wanted. She was merely expressing her own opinion on the matter.

    ¡°You¡¯re so much like your Mother. It¡¯s like looking into a mirror, and how profound it is given that you¡¯ve never so much as seen an image of her face. It must be the work of those ¡®genes¡¯ that the university types keep talking about.¡±

    But all of that was merely coincidence. I was already a full formed personality before being brought here. I wasn¡¯t truly a result of genetics or socialisation. I was an individual transplanted into a new body who happened to have many resemblances to Gwyneth. Durandia must have been influenced by her when coming up with the plan.

    ¡°But... I suppose that is meaningless. I heard what the others were saying.¡±

    ¡°You believe all of that?¡±

    ¡°I was never the religious sort ¨C but there is a small part of my mind that is willing to accept a higher power meddling in our affairs. I feel bad for Veronica. She fought so hard for so long to make a better Walser for your sake, yet now she isn¡¯t permitted to see the result of her effort. To be blunt, it appears you¡¯re more than capable of taking care of yourself.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t pretend it¡¯s a fair outcome for either of us. She wants to blame me, or take it out on Durandia, but you can¡¯t throw punches at a being that does not possess a physical body to harm.¡±

    Frankfort¡¯s eyes sharpened, ¡°How does this end for us?¡±

    ¡°She brought me here because she¡¯s convinced that we¡¯ll save the world in the end. Take whatever confidence you will from that. As for whether we all survive that process ¨C I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s unusually bleak from you. I always received the impression you were going to fight, and claw, and bite until you got your way.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that isn¡¯t my choice to make. Durandia knows everything that will happen from now until the end. I¡¯m still going to fight, but if she wants me to die she will arrange for that to happen.¡±

    Frankfort looked to the ground and remained silent for a minute while she gathered her thoughts. This was out of her field of expertise. She was used to dealing in harsh realities rooted in the real, the physical. Durandia was not. She was a being of emotion and energy ¨C who paradoxically focused on the outcomes rather than the means used to achieve them.

    Now she was forced to tangle with someone being brought from another world, and a deity who could see into the future and had planned the entire series of events from decades in the past. It was enough to make her feel helpless. Did any of her choices really matter in the face of that?

    This was what Xenia chafed against. For all of their high-minded aspirations of letting free will play out as it was, the mere existence of the Red Tree made that impossible. They could reach down and tweak the smallest details, and completely derail the path of history. Xenia believed that shutting the system down was for the best because of this.

    On the other hand ¨C if that led to the destruction of an entire world, would they be willing to bare that burden? Once the Red Tree was constructed it was not so simple to shut down and never think about again. It could be a tool for tremendous good. Was a small handful of people¡¯s free will worth protecting over billions of individual lives?

    I erred on Durandia¡¯s side of the debate. Xenia was being too idealistic. Durandia was being the morally upright party in the debate. She was compromising on her principles to protect lives. Gwyneth did not see things the same way that I did. She was taking the more expected route, seething with resentment that this ¡®game¡¯ had robbed her of her daughter.

    ¡°Okay, this is not an entirely social visit. I take it that you have nothing on your plate with Welt dead and the warehouses torched?¡± she asked.

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t know what to do next. Something is going to keep me occupied though.¡±

    Because I wasn¡¯t around to stop the shooting in the plaza, not that diving headfirst into that situation was a good idea in the first place. It would just lead to more people being killed in the confusion.

    ¡°I do have something to say about that. Veronica and I have still been independently reaching out to our intelligence-gathering friends. Gossip mongers who work outside of WISA.¡±

    ¡°Criminals?¡±

    ¡°Some of them. Others are trusted insiders in communities and institutions that would be difficult to crack open with a court order. They have ears close to the ground, and you would be surprised at how familiar with influential people they can get. One of them has come through with an interesting report.¡±

    She handed me a beige folder. I peeled it open and was met with what appeared to be a hand-written copy of a staff rota. Two dozen names were listed, along with times, places and additional notes in the right column.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±

    ¡°Thersyn Van Walser, the previous King, was not killed when Welt deposed him. Welt believed that murdering him would inflame tensions beyond what was reasonable, and letting his foes hope that he could be restored to the throne would keep them from moving too quickly.¡±

    ¡°I already knew that.¡±

    Frankfort nodded, ¡°Easy enough to deduce. Now that Welt is gone, there have been rumours that the coup forces are not going to lie idly by and allow that to continue. Security at his palace has been tightened significantly, and it was already the most fortified residence on the continent. There are guns in every window and battlement and those on reserve have been summoned to serve extra shifts.¡±

    It sounded like an obvious next step for Sloan. He wasn¡¯t a light touch by any stretch of the imagination, and throwing a metaphorical grenade into the fire was the kind of idiocy that he¡¯d go along with. I still didn¡¯t have a good read on why he was doing any of this though. Genta insisted he was a glory hound who didn¡¯t care for the ethical considerations that came with research, but if that was all he would have packed up and ran the moment Welt bit the dust.

    No, this was more than that. He was taking charge.

    ¡°Do you propose that we step in and make sure he lives to regain the throne?¡±

    ¡°Ekkehard isn¡¯t winning any fans. I¡¯ll state it plainly ¨C having Thersyn back would do wonders for getting the situation under control. He¡¯s a steady hand who is interested in keeping the peace.¡±

    But what could we do that the army of armed guards couldn¡¯t? There was a myriad of problems involved with us gaining access to the estate, even if we could somehow pinpoint the moment when this plan to assassinate him came to pass. I suspected that it would not take the form of an assault on the estate. They would look to find a sympathizer amongst the entourage or insert someone into it who could then gain direct access to Thersyn. If it was a suicide mission for that person then all it would take was a single opportune moment to kill him and scupper our plans.

    I could hardly pull on my connection with Theodore Van Walser to get into the palace either. What possible justification could I provide for visiting under these circumstances? We hardly knew one another beyond a few brief conversations at the academy. It would have to be a matter that the royal family found pressing enough to supplant concerns about letting others into the building.

    ¡°Are you absolutely sure that we should step in here?¡± I asked again, ¡°Part of me wants to focus all of our energy on tracking down Sloan and the rest to end this plot before it can get that far.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t force you to, but these are the kinds of decisions that we had to make every day at WISA. Was it better to cut the threat off at the source? Did we have the time and manpower to fight fires if they happened?¡±

    I picked at my nails and considered it. I didn¡¯t have a job to do while I waited for my past self to catch up, and I was clearly keeping myself busy once Welt was dead somehow. It begged to reason that this was what occupied my time in the days that followed his death.

    ¡°I can think of one way to get an invitation to the palace, although I¡¯m uncertain of when the best time would be to play that particular card.¡±

    Frankfort leaned closer, ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°The royal family loves political marriages. If I were to, hypothetically speaking, forward my interest in marrying one of the un-landed sons in the family ¨C they would surely invite me to the palace to arrange a marriage interview.¡±

    ¡°Would they be willing to do that?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. The ones who aren¡¯t in the direct line of succession for the throne are always bucking and braying, looking for an easy way to get a leg up on the competition. They don¡¯t have political interests like the main branch does. They want money and a trophy wife to show off at those droll parties they enjoy throwing every week.¡±

    I had resisted using my ¡®feminine charms¡¯ since arriving in Walser. Durandia may have made me comfortable with the body swap ¨C but that was an adjustment demanded by circumstance. I couldn¡¯t help her out if I was enduring a dysphoric meltdown after all. Everything else was left as it was before I died.

    Debasing myself by trying to win the heart of a man was not my idea of a good time.

    Desperate times called for desperate measures. I would only get one shot at this. I could express some interest and see if any of those un-landed family members bit the hook and asked for a marriage interview. I was not obligated to agree to it once I was there.

    I would have to get Franklin to drop by and pick up the letter to post to the palace. My father would probably rubberstamp whatever came across his desk if it came to that, but I believed that they wouldn¡¯t vet the validity of the note if it had the right wax seal on the envelope.

    ¡°Can you find a more precise window of opportunity for us? I can¡¯t justify staying on the grounds for several days even if they do accept my deceptive request for a marriage interview.¡±

    Frankfort nodded; ¡°I¡¯ll try. I¡¯m good, but I¡¯m no miracle worker.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Prince Theodore! Prince Theodore!¡±

    Theodore Van Walser stopped in place and spun around to face his pursuer. A young attendant was chasing after him with a letter clutched in one hand and a tray of refreshments in the other.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve just received a rather urgent letter. It seems that Lady Walston-Carter is seeking a suitor from the royal house, and she is hoping to arrange a marriage interview post-haste.¡±

    ¡°Now, of all times?¡± Theodore responded with disbelief.

    ¡°Whatever the reason may be, she¡¯s a notable individual and the heiress to an incredible business empire. Every eligible young man in the house will be clawing to get to the front of the line and make their case.¡±

    Theodore sighed, ¡°Then I am not interested.¡±

    He knew Maria well enough. She was the most popular girl at the academy, possessing an oddly devoted fanclub of girls and boys who wanted to get into her good graces, all without realising that Maria did not care for those who projected a false image of themselves.

    The discourse around her friendship with the ¡®commoner farm girl¡¯ was damning enough. While she was an intimidating presence and was of good breeding, Theodore got the impression that she was more reasonable than one would expect. Regardless ¨C he held no particular desire to become her chosen suitor.

    ¡°Is it because she¡¯s too young?¡± the attendant pondered, ¡°You should know that-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m well aware of how a betrothal works, Mister Fleur. It is a matter of personal preference and nothing more.¡±

    Theodore knew that the decision may not be his to make in the end. The royal family kept a close eye on what all of their members were doing. Only those of an extremely distant relation within a branch house had the freedom to marry as they chose to commoner and noble alike. Over there marrying a commoner was extremely uncommon, and only happened when one was so smitten with the appearance of another that they disregarded custom and financial benefit.

    But if Walston-Carter was seeking a marriage interview, then there would be no shortage of men from the house who would attempt to win her favour. The halls of the palace and the surrounding manors were filled to bursting with ambitious fellows with no land or promise of a job. Marrying Walston-Carter, even matrilineally, would be a step up from their present position.

    Maria held the cards in that scenario. The royal name was a tempting boon to many, a future Maria Van Walser could throw some serious weight around, and the heir born from such a marriage would not be so easily ignored despite not standing to succeed the throne.

    Theodore muttered to himself under his breath, attempting to work out what her angle was. Ekkehard had seized the throne and cast the entire family into chaos, with people taking sides and arguing fiercely about what the future of the tree should be. There was significant uncertainty around which cadet house would lead the way, or if it was all a foolish power grab doomed to end in disaster for Ekkehard and his kin.

    ¡°Very well,¡± Fleur conceded, ¡°You are right. There will be no shortage of cousins and distant connections attempting to win the day. I firmly believe that you would be the victor in any scenario. You are the only direct descendent of Thersyn in the running.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll say this. Maria Walston-Carter is never as straightforward as that.¡±

    Was it intelligence or malice? Theodore wanted to know.

    ¡°She¡¯s visiting the palace in two days. You may enter for an interview if you so choose before then. I am going to be busy preparing what is needed for the event ¨C so please come and find me if you need anything, Prince.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry yourself with me if there¡¯s work to be done.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that worrying about you is my job, Prince. I must be off to deliver this tray.¡±

    ¡°Have a good day, Fleur.¡±

    Fleur bowed politely and continued walking down the long corridors of the palace to his destination. There was always a job to be done around here. Floors and windows needed cleaning, or food and drink needed to be delivered, or a guest was visiting and the servants were in a blind panic because the two-hundred-year-old wine in the cellar had been shattered by a loose rat, and the King insisted on using it for the reception.

    Third in line for the throne. Theodore shook his head and laughed to himself. There was no chance in hell that he was being allowed to choose his wife. Fleur seemed convinced that his older brother¡¯s marriage and the children born from it would secure the line well enough. Worse disaster had befallen the royal family before. His father already had someone in mind, he could feel it whenever they spoke about what he was doing in the future.

    It was going to be a troublesome week at the royal palace, it always was when his cousins were involved.

 Chapter 163

    As it turned out ¨C Thersyn Van Walser was absolutely desperate to get rid of the surplus of jobless bachelors stinking up the place. The royal family had spread between eight different cadet branches, expanding the already large scale of the family tree beyond reasonable management.

    Normally a cadet branch would handle their own affairs, but handing responsibility to the King was seen as a good way to get a leg up without having to do any work. Why worry about finding a wife for your children when the King¡¯s clout was enough to do the hard part for you?

    The day after I dispatched the letter and brought Franklin in on the plan, I received a response that happily accepted a visit at my earliest convenience. I packed some spare clothes and headed out in the carriage to visit the royal palace. Despite Ekkehard taking over the throne, the house was still controlled by Thersyn Van Walser.

    Ekkehard was too craven to step on his toes and try to fight for it. He decided to live in the King¡¯s residence in the capital instead. It was not nearly as luxurious as the palace, but the avarice within was far beyond even the richest of nobles. The palace was a hard act to follow.

    For a start, there was a gigantic, medieval wall that surrounded the entire property, constructed from sterling white stone. It was very old, yet meticulously maintained and manned at all times by armed guards. It towered overhead, forcing me to crane my neck upwards as the carriage rumbled through on the stone path.

    But that wasn¡¯t even close to the front fa?ade of the actual palace. There was a solid five-minute trip through the front gardens before we caught sight of the main building. Matching the scale of the palace grounds, the buildings in the centre were larger than some of the tallest in the city. Five stories across a hundred thousand square meters.

    This was the true royal residence. Generations and generations of the family lived here in their own private wings. The front of the building reached out around a large fountain and driveway. Even that was deceptive ¨C only showing a small part of the full complex from the front.

    Every small part of the construction was painstakingly detailed by the most talented craftsmen that the nation had ever seen. Stone statues adorned the walls, with elaborate engraved details running across the entire length of the building. The carriage pulled around to the front door, where three attendants were waiting for our arrival.

    ¡°Leave the luggage in here for now. I don¡¯t know how long this will take.¡±

    ¡°Aye,¡± Franklin nodded.

    I dismounted and waited patiently for the lead servant to make the painfully long walk down to the parking spot. The sounds dragged by like they were stuck in a bog.

    When he reached us, he bowed his head and took my gloved hand into his, ¡°Lady Walston-Carter, it¡¯s a pleasure to have you here at the palace today! I¡¯m Fleur. I¡¯ve been assigned to be your liaison during your visit.¡±

    I curtseyed, highly aware of how high the standards would be when dealing with the royal family. I had appearances to keep. The entire scheme would be spoiled if they kicked me out for screwing them around.

    ¡°It¡¯s my honour to be invited to the palace.¡±

    ¡°I would like to apologize in advance for the inadequate welcome. As I¡¯m sure you¡¯re well aware, recent events have occupied the time of many in the royal house. Master Thersyn would like me to convey his earnest support for your proposal. There are many young men in waiting who would love to have your hand in marriage.¡±

    Too bad I wasn¡¯t here to buy what they were selling.

    ¡°You need not apologize for that. I¡¯m sure that the King is a very busy man even at the calmest of times.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well. If I may ¨C he doesn¡¯t permit being called ¡®King¡¯ given the present circumstances. He¡¯s a traditionalist in that sense.¡±

    ¡°I will make sure to remember that.¡±

    With the pleasantries over with, Fleur escorted Franklin and I into the grand lobby. My internal cynic pondered how much money was wasted on marble and expensive art. They could have fed an entire city for twenty years with that kind of cash, and here it was being wasted away on portraits and statues. It was by far the most excessive interior space I¡¯d laid eyes on, and that was a stiff contest amongst the preening masses of Walserian nobility.

    We walked to the left wing of the palace and found ourselves shown to a small bedroom. ¡®Small¡¯ in this context being three times the size of the bedroom I had back at the estate.

    ¡°We¡¯ve prepared this room for your use. If you so choose, you can stay overnight if the interview process goes for a long time.¡±

    Franklin knew he¡¯d have to go back and get my bags. He was already stepping away to go and do that before Fleur turned back to the door.

    ¡°I see that we¡¯re going at a brisk pace. Is there an urgent matter to attend to?¡±

    Fleur¡¯s smile was strained, ¡°It¡¯s been a stressful few weeks, as you may imagine. You are an honoured guest of the royal family ¨C however, the practicalities of the process demand some efficiency. Are you prepared to greet the bachelors?¡±

    Already? Something was going on here.

    ¡°Of course. I am always prepared.¡±

    ¡°Very good ma¡¯am. Please follow me.¡±

    Another long walk took me deeper into the palace¡¯s labyrinthian halls. Fleur had memorized the entire layout like the back of his hands, an impressive display of dedication to the job. He was not exceptional. The servants in the palace were the elite of the elite. The nation¡¯s finest maids, butlers, chefs and gardeners were assembled here and paid very well for the effort.

    They also appeared to have an in-house artist and sculptor. There were hundreds and hundreds of artworks and statues against every wall I could see. They depicted notable moments in Walserian history, vicious battles, political upheaval, and family portraits of the Van Walser clan. Each one was individually priceless because of what they portrayed. It was a near-complete history of the royal family after their ascension to the top of the heap.

    It was sinking in that this world had a long, winding history where millions of notable people fought for their vision and ideals. I had always acted as if this was a real place, not simply a copy of something I saw in a visual novel that lingered somewhere in the back of my mind gathering dust.

    Durandia must have influenced the developers using her powers. I wondered if there was a deity assigned to my old world too. Did she ask for their permission or cooperation? How exactly did she nudge things in this direction with such precision without using brute force mind control?

    Fleur stopped on a dime and twisted to face a pair of double doors, knocking four times with a practised rhythm.

    ¡°Announcing Lady Maria Walston-Carter!¡±

    After waiting exactly two seconds he pushed the door open and stepped aside to usher me through. I kept my head tilted down to the floor and headed inside. I slowly turned my eyes back up and curtseyed, but I should have studied the room first. I almost choked on my spittle when I finally had a good long look at what terrors were awaiting me.

    The reception room was rammed to the fore with no less than four dozen different boys of various ages. The moment I opened the door and stepped across the threshold, the tense silence inside was channelled in my direction. Every single pair of eyes locked onto me in unison like a choir of brainless drones.

    ¡°Excuse me for a moment.¡±

    I retreated out of the room and closed the door, turning to Fleur with a confused look.

    ¡°Are you honestly telling me that every single one of those gentlemen is here to speak with me?¡±

    Fleur nodded, ¡°Yes ma¡¯am. Is there a problem?¡±

    I pushed my palms together and hushed my voice so they couldn¡¯t overhear us, ¡°I would have thought that you¡¯d... narrow the field a little before I arrived.¡±

    ¡°Master Thersyn didn¡¯t want anyone to feel left out.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a marriage interview! Not a day of amusement at the local fair!¡±

    Fleur was trying extremely hard to not look exasperated, or maybe he was trying to stamp down a laugh that was bubbling to the surface. It was ambiguous. Either way, the situation was far trickier than I first imagined.

    I had foolishly insisted to Frankfort that I would be here for a day or two at the absolute maximum, but with so many potential suitors begging for attention I could see it stretching to a week if we went at a fast pace. And not all of them would agree to an expedited schedule. That would bruise too many egos.

    So here I was ¨C standing outside of a room with far, far too many single men who desperately wanted to get in with a rich and powerful noble family through marriage. I was not going to be tricked into saying yes to any of them, but the real problem was that my plan to assassin-proof the palace would be almost impossible if I was being hounded by so many different people.

    Frankfort had squeezed her sources for every bit of information they could provide, and she discovered that the same man had visited several weapon sellers over the preceding week. He worked for Welt before he died.

    There was a shift change coming up at the palace where some of the servants returned home for a brief holiday. That wasn¡¯t enough to go on normally, but I had the power of narrative convenience and a future-seeing goddess on my side. They were all red flags that pointed to this being the right time.

    I took a deep breath and focused on what I had to do. This wasn¡¯t the time to lose my cool. I¡¯d gotten out of worse jams before. Dodging some desperate royal bachelors was going to be easy by comparison. I put on my best fake smile and opened the door again.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Keep it stiff, keep it formal, and don¡¯t let any emotion slip through the cracks.

    ¡°Apologies for my rudeness. I am Maria Walston-Carter. It¡¯s my pleasure to meet you all.¡±

    Any ¡®rudeness¡¯ was quickly forgiven in their eyes because of who was speaking with them. It bears repeating that the Walston-Carter family is the apple of every ambitious noble¡¯s eye for a good reason. There was a single child destined to inherit the entire fortune ¨C and that meant that her husband stood to gain from it as well. Even the royals knew this, which was why a turnout of this size had occurred.

    There was whispering between some of the people in the room. Fleur stood next to me and clapped his hands to get their attention.

    ¡°Master Thersyn has asked me to oversee the marriage interview process. While I would prefer to give you all enough time to speak with Lady Walston-Carter in detail, the number of potential suitors has exceeded our expectations. We¡¯ll have to do this orderly and respectfully.¡±

    He placed extra emphasis on those last words and I became acutely aware of what was about to happen. All of the boys and teenagers in the room were the problem children. I was about to feast on a buffet of every personality deficiency ever discovered by mankind, and the words ¡®orderly¡¯ and ¡®respectfully¡¯ didn¡¯t get any headroom amongst their number.

    I was second-guessing our plan. Breaking into the King¡¯s bedroom sounded easier than doing all of this bullshit. It was too late to do anything about it now. I had to face the music and deal with the mundanity of acting demure around a bunch of raving lunatics.

    The na?ve, younger suitors were all staring at me ¨C presumably thinking about how I was the prettiest girl they¡¯d seen. Samantha¡¯s rival in the original visual novel had to be better than her in every way, so she was blessed with looks that would let her manipulate others into doing her bidding.

    The older suitors weren¡¯t as interested in me for that reason. To them, I represented their best chance to escape from the shadow of their relatives and land a cosy, low-stress spot at the top of an incredibly wealthy family. They didn¡¯t necessarily have to move out of the palace and lose all of their perks either, they imagined a future where I moved in to be with my new husband.

    It was time for me to run the gauntlet and see how much of this I could stand.

    After making my full introduction to the assembled suitors, Fleur escorted me into a side room that was attached to the lounge. Each suitor would enter the room, introduce themselves to me and make their best case for becoming my betrothed partner. I sat on the chair and stared dead ahead at the window on the opposite end of the room, unmoving, unflinching, unfeeling.

    The door opened and the carousel of horrors truly started.

    It was unassuming at first. They¡¯d walk in with a style of step that made them look like soldiers in a parade, sit down in the chair with what little nerve they could muster, and force out their names, ages and relations in a rote reiteration. I had no context for any of it ¨C but the real games were played in the back end of the interview, where they would speak about themselves and their ambitions once they left the comforting embrace of the Van Walser house.

    It was a given amongst them that it would be a matrilineal marriage. These were the dregs. The boys and teenagers who were too much trouble to bother keeping around, so this was their last gasp attempt to get some ¡®value¡¯ out of their flesh and blood relations by marrying into a wealthy family.

    ¡°My name is Cassidus. My great, great uncle was once the King of Walser. I¡¯m fifteen years old.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you,¡± I repeated for the twelfth time.

    He glared at me for no reason and then concocted a story to get mad about on the spot.

    ¡°This is what you¡¯ve been reduced to now? I would have thought that the Walston-Carter family was too good for the likes of us, but I suppose it¡¯s desperate times given that you¡¯re the only living heir.¡±

    My eyes dropped, ¡°You are utterly terrible at this.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You have one chance to make a first impression and that is what you come up with? You¡¯re supposed to be winning me over ¨C not insulting my family.¡±

    A lightbulb turned on in his head ¨C as if this was the first moment when he realized that the exercise was intended for me to find an eligible husband and not as a makeshift therapy session for a misanthrope teenager.

    ¡°You... look nice?¡± he offered with a strained smile.

    I shook my head and he showed himself out of the room early.

    And on it went. Dozens of faces and names at a pace far too quick for me to remember. It soon descended into farce. This was a fire sale. All disinherited sons half off! Amazingly some of them were even worse than Cassidus was, expressing open contempt for the process that they volunteered for in the first place, or insulting me directly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to marry an ugly nag like you anyway!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d be a mistake to lose my family name in exchange for yours.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only here because my parents forced me to come.¡±

    Things weren¡¯t looking good ¨C but on the bright side if they had so many unmarried royals running around, a natural self-selection process would be the easiest way to cut down on the number being born in the future.

    The first round ended and I re-entered the lounge where Fleur was waiting for me. It had taken nearly three hours for a brief introduction and conversation with each suitor. I had already gotten my fill of this, but the royals wanted the process to be over with quickly.

    ¡°Thank you for your patience, Lady Maria.¡±

    ¡°No, no. Meeting so many new people was... simply delightful.¡±

    It took all of my training and experience not to look like a serial killer as I said that. A perceptive person would detect an undercurrent of venom in my voice, instead of being dazzled by my appearance and voice and discarding their curiosity. How was Claude the only person to have figured me out after so long?

    ¡°Some of the boys have chosen to drop out of their own volition. We have fourteen remaining, although we have to get your opinion on who is in the best standing at the moment.¡±

    You could have held a loaded gun to my head under duress and I still wouldn¡¯t remember any of their names. The only ones who got the privilege of being recalled were the same people who were never, under any circumstance, going to have a happy marriage with their horrible personalities. None of them were on the list.

    ¡°I do not have any complaints regarding the people who are left. We can continue as normal.¡±

    ¡°The next meeting is scheduled for an hour from now. Allow me to show you to the dining hall.¡±

    ¡°Would it be a problem for me to explore the palace?¡± I asked innocently.

    Fleur was concerned, ¡°This is a rather large complex. I wouldn¡¯t want a guest getting lost.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I have a very good sense of direction. I assume we¡¯re meeting here again?¡±

    ¡°Yes. That is correct.¡±

    Fleur couldn¡¯t explicitly overrule what I wanted without seeming rude, so he didn¡¯t. Bringing Franklin along would also give me an extra layer of deniability if they felt that I was doing something wrong. I reunited with him in the dining hall and enjoyed the excellent food that the world-class chefs prepared.

    ¡°How did it go?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Terrible. I always felt that my manners were poor by comparison to some of my peers, but I know now that there was no reason to worry.¡±

    Franklin coughed into his hand, ¡°I would never accuse you of having poor manners. You were very observant during the lessons we held at the manor.¡±

    Because I needed all of that stuff to blend in, mainly. Listening carefully was no substitute for having those rules and norms drilled into your head for years since the moment of your birth. I would occasionally make a mistake. It was fine when I used the wrong spoon during a meal because nobody noticed, but social faux pa was much easier for someone to notice and they could give you a hard time for doing it.

    ¡°To be frank, there wasn¡¯t an ounce of charm between the lot of them. Some of them were too young to understand what they were there for, and the elder ones all had rotten personalities. It¡¯s no wonder they have a surplus of them!¡±

    ¡°I take it that you won¡¯t be leaving the palace with a betrothed, then.¡±

    ¡°Over my dead body. That¡¯s not what we came here to do anyway.¡±

    ¡°You never know, a chance meeting is the very essence of romance.¡±

    ¡°In a novel, maybe ¨C but we live in the real world. Nothing that convenient is going to happen here.¡±

    The doors to the dining hall opened, but it was not Fleur who stepped through. It was the ¡®Ice King¡¯ Theodore Van Walser. He scanned the room before locking eyes with me and making a beeline for the table I was seated at.

    ¡°Maria.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Theodore. It¡¯s been a while since we last spoke, hasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°It has. For what reason do you assail the palace at such a tumultuous time?¡±

    There was that edgy, high-strung Theodore that I remembered from the game. He was normally pleasant at the academy ¨C but his mood changed quickly when things were going wrong. It was why Maria there had an easy time manipulating him and turning him into the secondary antagonist, even if he learned his lesson by the end and turned on her.

    ¡°The world keeps moving around us even in times of crisis. Call it callous to say, but I am not in a position to feel troubled by what is happening. I am not protesting in the streets, nor am I attempting to place myself in line for the throne.¡±

    A lie ¨C it was very much my business to get involved in.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re not trying to pull a dirty trick on my family.¡±

    ¡°Hardly. My father simply insisted that I visit here for some marriage interviews with the unwed men of your house. Given who I have spoken with, the impression I get is that their parents will agree to a matrilineal arrangement and they¡¯ll essentially cede whatever influence they have. It must seem like an upgrade to someone. Instead of being a fifth rung royal, they can become one of the most powerful nobles in the country.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s very cold of you.¡±

    I scoffed, ¡°This isn¡¯t about romance, remember. This is what nobles do.¡±

    Unless you were my father ¨C who eloped with a secret police woman and had a child with her, before legitimizing that same child to be the heir to his empire. Theodore was not so put off by the detached description of what was going on, but how I was ceding my well-known independent streak to submit to his whims.

    ¡°I apologize. I¡¯m used to you blazing your own trail, as they say. No matter what the other students at the academy said or thought ¨C you always did as you liked. I came to admire that about you.¡±

    Theodore always wanted to be more than third in line to the throne. He didn¡¯t want to be the spare, waiting for the dire moment where his elder brothers were indisposed or murdered and he was shoved into their place. With his eldest brother soon marrying and potentially having a child of his own ¨C Theodore would be removed from the succession line entirely and freed of that responsibility.

    He wanted more, but how would he feel being less than what he was now?

    ¡°It¡¯s easy to be that way when nothing is on the line,¡± I admitted, ¡°We¡¯re speaking of low-stakes conflict at a boarding school for spoiled nobles. Something more, like marriage, that¡¯s out of my hands.¡±

    Theodore shook his head, ¡°You¡¯ll eat them alive. I can almost see it now.¡±

    ¡°If this ends in an agreement, anyway. There are still many opportunities for it to all fall apart. We might end with no suitable candidates, or the handful that meets my standards may insist on retaining their name.¡±

    ¡°What good is a name alone? If I were in their shoes, I¡¯d get out of here as quickly as possible.¡±

    It was a surprisingly frank admission from someone who was normally extremely guarded. The candid tone of the conversation had made him feel at leisure to be honest about how he felt. Nothing made a person open up like mocking others or breaking a few noble norms.

    ¡°I hope that your father is well,¡± I said.

    ¡°He¡¯s... okay. I appreciate your concern. It will take a lot more than this to rattle him.¡±

    A bullet through the head or poison down his gullet would rattle him good enough for Sloan¡¯s liking. I also had to worry about Theodore and his brothers, because they all had stronger claims to the throne than Ekkehard did. As the thought occurred to me ¨C I put myself into Sloan¡¯s shoes for a moment and had an epiphany on top of that.

    Having multiple people with strong claims was what he wanted.

    Theodore tried in vain to keep his head down and out of the race, but even without his knowledge there would be those in the noble class who wanted him to be King for a variety of reasons. The same could be said for his brothers too. It was the perfect situation for Sloan, wherein there¡¯d be no easy way to revert the damage and there would potentially be a greater conflict between the three opposing sides.

    Ekkehard could skate while the rest of the house fought for the right to challenge him.

    But I couldn¡¯t get ahead of myself. This was all my assumption. There was no guarantee that Sloan was thinking the same way as me. I could have been overthinking the problem, and if I made that mistake then all of them would suffer for it. I had to act under the assumption that all of them were targets.

    ¡°We never had time to speak at the academy before ¨C so don¡¯t be afraid to approach me during my stay,¡± I offered.

    ¡°Of course. I must take my leave.¡±

    Theodore bowed his head and left the way he came, having gotten what he wanted from me. Franklin stood silently to my right behind the chair.

    I polished off my food and put down my fork; ¡°We have to assassin-proof this building.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s huge. Where are we going to start?¡±

    Putting myself into Sloan¡¯s shoes was of debatable use, but assassins were another matter. Franklin didn¡¯t have to worry. I simply had to pretend that I was the one gunning for Thersyn and his sons, and work from there.

    ¡°Follow me.¡±

 Chapter 164

    There was an ever-present nagging voice in the back of my head telling me that this was a horrible idea. From proposing a risky marriage interview process with the royal family to the timing of my visit to the actual process of sweeping every room that I thought was a risk factor ¨C the entire plan was built on a foundation of sand.

    Yet I foolishly ignored that voice. I was self-assured because of how other recent events had fallen into place for me by the power of narrative convenience. Naturally, it was at the exact moment when I tried to harness that power knowingly that it all fell apart. I had severely underestimated just how big the royal palace was.

    It was a maze. There were hundreds of near identical-looking corridors to peruse. At first, I thought of finding the most securely guarded area and using that as a guide to learn where Thersyn was hiding, but that proved to be a bust almost immediately. I couldn¡¯t even find the secured areas on my own.

    I was left with the distinct feeling that this endeavour was a huge waste of time. I couldn¡¯t cut and run now though ¨C I had to sit through the rest of the interview process and come up with a convincing reason not to follow through with it should the field narrow to one person. Laundering the image of my father as a picky asshole would be the key. I could indicate that I was open to the prospect only to send a rejection under his name later on.

    Of course, nobles wasted each other¡¯s time with this crap constantly, but it was considered very rude to not have a reason. What a load of good that kind of rule did.

    ¡°Do you know where you¡¯re going?¡± Franklin inquired.

    ¡°Do I look like I know where we¡¯re going?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then I don¡¯t. My hubris has bested me once again. I thought that this wouldn¡¯t be as half as complicated as it is!¡±

    I could find my way back easily, that kind of short-term memory was something I had trained extensively during my time as a hitman. The real problem arose when I didn¡¯t know where I was supposed to be headed in the first place. I wanted to investigate as much of the palace as I could in the short time before the next meeting, but there were too many rooms and nooks and crannies to hide in. It was a hired killer¡¯s personal paradise. They could be lurking anywhere and nobody would be lucky enough to find them.

    The few servants we saw walking around didn¡¯t spare us a second glance, nor did they lead us anywhere useful when I tried to tail them. I eventually decided to give up for the time being and return to the lobby so that I could make it in time for the next wedding contest stage.

    ¡°Maybe you should apply some of that classic Maria charm to dissuade the bachelors.¡±

    ¡°You mean scare the pants off of them?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put it so crudely... but yes.¡±

    ¡°I am well aware of how terrifying some people find my presence.¡±

    Franklin chuckled, ¡°Is that so.¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. It¡¯s all calculated. It keeps a healthy distance between me and the type of person I cannot stand existing in my presence. I¡¯d rather be regarded as a cruel and cold little girl rather than endure one second of their incessant prattle.¡±

    ¡°I do feel that you¡¯ve become more personable since attending the academy. It¡¯s strange, a few years ago you were very quiet and reserved ¨C but suddenly you became very talkative and frigid. Now you¡¯re reverting to a happier medium.¡±

    ¡°Like I said, I can control my feelings. If I¡¯m being cold then it¡¯s for a good reason. I can choose to be friends with someone at any time.¡±

    Even I didn¡¯t believe that mouthful of utter bullshit. I was a self-flagellating moron who thought that she wasn¡¯t allowed to enjoy herself on the second go around. Things would have been much nicer had I taken full advantage of my new wealth and privilege. Showing up the other girls at the academy could only entertain me for so long.

    This was all besides the point. I was here to figure out where Thersyn was residing in exile from the throne so that I could ensure he lived to see the end of the week. They had good reason to suspect that an attempt on his life was incoming.

    My initial plan to return to the lobby went out of the window, but it was for a very good reason. Another servant, or at least a man I believed to be one, walked across the intersection in front of us and stopped dead for a brief moment. Everything slowed to a crawl. I recognized him, and it was not because I had seen him while exploring the palace.

    It was one of Marco¡¯s friends.

    His eyes met mine, and for all of his best efforts, he still looked like he was about to shit himself in fear. He quickly strode away, trying to open distance between us without running and breaking his cover. I was not going to let him get away with that. He was obviously here for a reason.

    What followed was a farce. Neither of us was willing to break into a sprint for fear of attracting attention in the most securely guarded building on the continent. Franklin powerwalked in lockstep with me. Our quarry hightailed it for the nearest open room he knew was safe and slammed the door shut behind him.

    We stopped outside.

    ¡°He¡¯s waiting to ambush you,¡± Franklin whispered.

    ¡°But he¡¯s not going to use a gun in here. Watch this.¡±

    I twisted the handle and pushed the door open. He was cornered and he knew it. I stepped across the threshold into the room and ducked as he swung a vase at my head, shattering it against the doorframe. I kicked him away and slung a bolt of ionized air in his direction ¨C momentarily locking his muscles and preventing him from drawing his gun.

    I was already in his face before he could stop me. I reached around his back and pulled it from the back of his trousers. I finished him off by wrenching his arm and throwing him down onto the floor in one smooth movement. I unloaded the magazine and tossed it to Franklin, who was standing behind me.

    ¡°Was that last job not enough money to go on, Farhan?¡±

    I could recognize his lovely mug from a mile away. It was insane. He went from committing arson to trying to assassinate the former King within three days. Farhan leant his head against the sofa and laughed.

    ¡°Of all the people, it had to be you.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s not beat around the bush ¨C as they say. You¡¯re here for a reason and I don¡¯t imagine it¡¯s anything good. Are you the one Sloan sent to try and kill Thersyn Van Walser?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re on about, lass.¡±

    ¡°I would advise not being smart with me. There are fates worse than death that I can inflict on someone like you.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t moved by my threats.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do anything to me,¡± he concluded, ¡°Not without every servant in this building coming down here and seeing you covered with my blood. That¡¯s why you didn¡¯t kill me on the spot back there.¡±

    ¡°Hm. I suppose you were the ¡®smart one¡¯ of the group then, however, there is a small problem with your position. I am entirely capable of ending your life without making a sound, they¡¯ll find your body tucked away in here long after I¡¯ve left the palace grounds, and they will not be capable of deducing what happened to you.¡±

    He smirked, ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    I snapped my fingers, ¡°Franklin. A demonstration is warranted.¡±

    He silently took a book from one of the shelves and handed it to me. It was a heavy tome, but not an old one, placed in here as a secondary storage location for what was undoubtedly a large collection in the dedicated library. Nobody would be upset should anything happen to it.

    I held the book in the air and used my magic on the binding that held the pages to it. Farnham watched in silent terror as the pages slipped free from the leather-bound cover and plummeted to the floor in a disconnected pile.

    ¡°Nice trick,¡± he bluffed.

    ¡°It is a nice trick ¨C and it¡¯s especially effective when applied to the vulnerable spinal column at the base of the neck. I can reach into your body and slice one of your arteries open without leaving an external wound, or perhaps it would be more fitting to cut your Achilles tendons and leave you a cripple?¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°You¡¯re full of crap, kid.¡±

    Did he want to test me on that threat? I tossed the cover into the air and brought my hands down, wirelessly slicing it in two like the sharp end of a blade. The split cover landed on either side of his feet. He scrambled back up and supported himself using the table.

    ¡°That is going to be your spine in a second if you don¡¯t tell me what I want to know.¡±

    He finally got the picture, ¡°I didn¡¯t get paid to come here and scrub out the King. You think they¡¯d pay a low-level crook like me to handle a job that intense?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    He frowned as I answered his rhetorical question.

    ¡°You work with Marco, isn¡¯t he considered a professional by everyone in the know?¡±

    ¡°Marco is, but us folks who work with him don¡¯t get that much shine from our association. Not that I¡¯m saying I deserve it. Marco¡¯s been out there making a name for himself by taking a lot of risks ¨C it¡¯s his reputation to benefit from. The point is, I¡¯m not being hired solo to kill someone that important. I can¡¯t do it, maybe Marco could, but he¡¯s packing up his shit and getting out of Walser as soon as possible.¡±

    ¡°Who paid you, and what did they have you do?¡±

    Farhan shook his head; ¡°They didn¡¯t meet me directly. A friend of a friend told me that they were looking for extra hands, but I only ever met with another agent they hired. They told me to put on this uniform and show up on the same day as the staff intake because there were multiple vacancies. They haven¡¯t clocked me for an infiltrator yet.¡±

    Frankfort had to squeeze every source she had to figure that out. Either the person who hired him had the same amount of experience in espionage, or they were someone on the inside of the palace who had a vested interest in cementing Ekkehard¡¯s hold on the throne. It might have been a close family member of his.

    ¡°Again, what did you do?¡±

    ¡°I delivered a pair of packages to the mailing office. One of them was left there for someone else, and the other I brought to a sitting room on the third floor. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s in them. A gun, maybe? But I could smuggle one in on my person without a problem.¡±

    I exhaled through my nose and stepped away to give him some breathing room. This was a problem. I believed his story, Welt was smart enough to work with compartmented crooks who did all the dirty work. For an operation this sensitive a low-level goon like Farnham was being utilised as a mule to get what they needed into the building.

    ¡°I assume there are other people here for the same job.¡±

    Farnham shrugged, ¡°I was kept in the dark, so I think the rest of them are too. Fewer ways for us to screw it up. Stick to your role, keep your head down, and don¡¯t ask any questions. That¡¯s how a good job gets pulled off.¡±

    At least we were here at the right time. I could justify extending the interview process a few days to make sure that I was around when the inevitable occurred. Farnham was happy to plead ignorance on more of the specifics with his life on the line, so I decided not to press him any further and let him settle for that.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to leave you to the guards now.¡±

    Farnham staggered away from the table, ¡°Wait, wait a second! I can help you out. I¡¯ll drop everything if you don¡¯t turn me in!¡±

    ¡°You already said that you don¡¯t know any more information.¡±

    ¡°But there¡¯s only two of you. Wouldn¡¯t an extra pair of eyes help you out?¡±

    It sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that more than he was me or Franklin. I didn¡¯t trust Farnham as far as I could throw him. Introducing a wild variable into the mix was frankly a terrible idea. I was asking for him to stab me in the back if I went along with his pleas. He could burn down a warehouse, but there was no promise of him being of use in this situation where an assassin was skulking the halls of the palace.

    Franklin chimed up; ¡°We¡¯re almost out of time, Maria.¡±

    ¡°Come on, you¡¯re a reasonable girl! That¡¯s why you decided to work with Marco ¨C you understood that he could do something for you! Even after what he tried to do with your Uncle!¡±

    If I was anyone else that kind of insensitive comment would not go over well. Farnham was happy to throw Marco under the wheels as long as it helped himself. This wasn¡¯t about Marco. I used him because he had a reason to get back at Welt after he tried to kill him twice over. Farnham had no reason whatsoever to assist me now.

    It bore repeating. There was no trust to be had, just the type of leverage you used to control others. Farnham could sense that he was losing me. He needed to switch to my side or I¡¯d throw him to the dogs and let them sort him out. There was no getting out of the palace either. The gates were closed to everyone, even the staff, until the rotation was over.

    ¡°I¡¯m reasonable, which is why I¡¯m not offering you a deal like that. Goodbye.¡±

    Farnham scowled and charged at me in an attempt to keep me from turning him in to the nearest armed guard, but I was already one step ahead of him. I ducked his attempt to grab me and twisted his arm around his back, before pushing him from behind towards where Franklin was standing.

    By chance, I had recently learned that Franklin enjoyed recreational boxing when he wasn¡¯t working at the manor. He lashed out with a vicious right hook that clocked him across the nose and shut his lights out in an instant. I almost fell back as the weight of his body was suddenly put entirely onto my arms. I let him drop to the floor instead.

    ¡°Magazine.¡±

    Franklin shook off his bruised knuckles and handed it over. I slid it back into the gun but also made sure to put the safety on, and break the internal mechanism so that it couldn¡¯t be fired. The gun was placed back into his belt line in a place where the guards could easily spot it when entering the room.

    ¡°Go find a guard and tell them about the noise you heard,¡± I instructed, ¡°I¡¯ll go and see if the interview will still be on.¡±

    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡±

    We parted ways, with Franklin heading off in search of a guard to sell our cover story to. Farhan wouldn¡¯t be able to turn the tables on me by accusing us of being responsible for his unconscious state or the smashed vase, once again I was benefitting from the expectations placed upon the shoulders of every good noble lady.

    Navigating back to where we started was more difficult than I expected. I was laser-focused on following Farhan through the hallways and did not pay attention to where we were going. I reoriented myself by getting to the lobby and then moving to the study from there.

    Fleur was waiting for me at the door.

    ¡°Ah! There you are, Lady Maria.¡±

    ¡°I must apologise. We were just heading back and we heard a horrible crashing sound come from one of the rooms. Franklin has gone off without me to find a member of staff to speak with.¡±

    Fleur was interested in hearing more ¨C but his duty for the moment was to chauffeur these young men through a difficult and awkward interview process. I wondered if any of them had reckoned with the thought of being married to another person. Was it seen as a matter of course even at their age?

    We stepped through and the small number of boys who toughed it out all stood to attention. I curtseyed, again, and moved towards the table at the front of the room. Just a few minutes ago I was interrogating a criminal and getting into a fight with him. It was almost enough to give me whiplash.

    Even while I was offering pleasantries to the competitors, my mind was elsewhere.

    ¡°I am honoured to see so much interest in my offer of a betrothal. I should make it clear that my father is interested in meeting those who proceed to the final stage of this process, and that it will likely be a matrilineal arrangement. Are you willing to leave your current name behind and join our house?¡±

    All of them nodded with little hesitation. Being the husband of an extremely wealthy noble was an upgrade from being a bottom-level royal in their eyes. They all understood what was at stake and what they would have to give to win my interest.

    ¡°This may be a strange proposition ¨C but I would first like to know if any of you have an interest in business. As you may be aware, my family is heavily invested in mining and other productive ventures, and you may be asked to take on some responsibilities in managing those businesses in the future.¡±

    Not really. Even Damien would offload some of his work to the site managers if he felt it was a lot to handle. It was entirely possible for me, or a prospective spouse, to simply kick back and let the money roll in. I had a firm grasp on what would be a sound investment into the future thanks to my previous life. I was just using that to posture as if I had an intention of selecting a spouse by the end.

    ¡°That¡¯s good. It goes without saying that you will have a large amount of freedom to pursue whatever venture you please. It¡¯s a good place for one who has ambition to build something new.¡±

    Or they could leech off of the family fortune for the rest of their life, but that was rare. Nobles were all about making the line go up. Why settle for having enough money to live affluently for your entire life, and the lives of your ancestors fifteen generations removed from your death? It was easy to make money turn into more money. Failure was a temporary setback for someone like me, I could go back and try again none the worse for wear.

    And that was before considering devices like the watch owned by Adrian¡¯s family. It made me think that they had benefitted from that for a long time. Merely possessing the watch would put them in a position to trigger a self-closing loop wherein a future version of a family member could point them towards a particularly lucrative investment.

    In the midst of my first real statement to the group, another servant poked their head through the door and whispered something to Fleur. He glanced at me and the suitors with a nervous leer. That must be the news about the armed stranger being found in one of the studies. Farnham was going to have a bad time being wrung for info by the guards, and then getting tossed into the courts to be slapped with an extremely lengthy jail sentence.

    Fleur was internally debating what the best course of action was. It wasn¡¯t as if the royal house members had anywhere else to go away from the palace, and scuppering the marriage interviews because of an attempted assassination would anger their parents and guardians. Come hell or high water they were going to worm their way into my good graces through marriage.

    Fleur couldn¡¯t in good conscious keep that information from me as a guest, so he pulled me aside as I finished my opening remarks and relayed what had happened.

    ¡°It appears that the sound was caused by an intruder into the palace, and he was armed. I would strongly recommend that he pause this interview and have you return home, Lady Maria.¡±

    ¡°Is that a requirement?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m certain that Thersyn would accept your desire to stay knowing this, but it does pose a risk to the safety of the guests.¡±

    He knew full well that they were targeting Thersyn, not me. He wanted to cover all of his bases in case the worst came to pass.

    ¡°I would find that most inconvenient. I trust the men and women who are dedicated to the security of the palace. I am certain that no harm will come to me should I stay despite this development. We need only stay out of the way and let them do their jobs.¡±

    Play up the ¡®bratty¡¯ attitude of a noble girl, make him really believe that I was more willing to get shot and killed than be momentarily inconvenienced...

    ¡°The Royal Infantry are the best of the best. I am simply obligated to warn you. It will not take long for them to sniff out these ruffians and see the palace secured again.¡±

    ...And he bit it, hook, line and sinker.

    ¡°I will defer to your decision, Lady Maria. I may have to arrange for a different room later. I will speak with the guard and make sure we are safe to continue.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I appreciate your transparency.¡±

    It was time to move on to the individual discussions again. These were going to be longer, more detailed, and occur outside of earshot of the others. I planned to take each one through the back door and into the gazebo on the rear porch, rather than setting the entire thing inside of another boring meeting room.

    I turned to my captive audience and smiled, ¡°Who¡¯s first?¡±

    In retrospect ¨C that grin and declaration came off as more predatory than I intended.

 Chapter 165

    The interviews continued unabated despite the security risk. I decided to sit in the garden with each contestant so that we could speak candidly about what they wanted from this, and so that I could press them for information about what was going on around the palace in search of a hint of what to do next.

    The first two left little impact on me and walked away with slumped shoulders. They both knew they were not making it to the next round, as they fumbled through the conversation and struggled to come up with aught of interest to relay. That was impressive given that I was the one taking the lead!

    The third boy was a year older than me. He had messy blonde hair and freckled cheeks. His name was Felix, and I remembered him because of his somewhat confrontational tone during the first discussion in the meeting room.

    ¡°Good evening, Lady Maria.¡±

    ¡°And the same you, Felix.¡±

    In his eyes, remembering that name was more than the others had gotten out of me, but whether he wanted to win this contest or not was an open question. It was never easy to presume that any of them were genuinely hopeful that they could land a marriage at this age. It was a lot of commitment even when they were hammered over the head with messages about how important it was.

    ¡°This may be rude of me to say, but I¡¯m impressed at the number of suitors you¡¯ve accumulated with your letter. Every branch of the great family tree was alight with excitement about pairing you with their wayward sons.¡±

    ¡°It is an astute observation, but would you consider yourself wayward?¡±

    Felix gripped the edge of the table, ¡°I certainly don¡¯t have any solid plans for the future. My father speaks of taking a safe seat in parliament ¨C but my uncle insists that no man wishes to see a Van Walser running for an elected position at this moment in time.¡±

    That would be a few years into the future after he left schooling, and his uncle was correct. The association with the royal family would be a drag on his appeal to many voters. If the party that took him on had a primary process ¨C it was likely that he would lose and never get on the ballot versus a safer option. The parties also had their interests and powerbrokers, and there was no guarantee that they would sacrifice a safe seat to someone outside of the club.

    ¡°Are you interested in politics, by chance?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but not as a candidate. I¡¯ve been enjoying the political history and sciences lectures at the academy. It¡¯s intriguing to me.¡±

    ¡°Then perhaps the more astute path to walk would be one where those skills could be put to use.¡±

    Felix shook his head, ¡°My father would never agree to that. He never shuts up about how much he despises the ¡®intelligentsia.¡¯ He¡¯d have a heart attack if his eldest son asked to become a lecturer of history at one of those ¡®worthless¡¯ universities.¡±

    Yet he was perfectly fine with sending his son to an expensive boarding school where those same intelligentsia educated him on all manners of things that stuck-in-the-past nobles hated. The one aspect that unified all of these people was rank hypocrisy.

    ¡°What do you want to do, besides marrying one of our unfortunate lot?¡±

    Of all the questions he could have asked, he somehow stumbled across the one for which I did not have a good answer. Even my lies didn¡¯t sound convincing in my head. I was going on a day-by-day basis ¨C dealing with crises and trying to stay alive when the world was going to hell.

    ¡°I am uncertain. One day I will be responsible for all of the businesses that my father manages now, and that will surely demand much of my time and attention. I do not expect to have a choice in the matter besides.¡±

    It it was a position of immense power and influence, but I expected to meet a grisly end before that ever became a part of my personal calculus. It was too much of a reward for the likes of me, living a life of privilege and comfort.

    ¡°My father always says that industry is the heart and soul of our society, more than politics and royalty.¡±

    ¡°He is correct. The biggest changes to towns and cities across Walser do not occur at the behest of politicians. Where factories are built the railroads follow, as do the homes that house the workers and the other businesses that they become customers of. In my eyes building such a thing is more effective in bringing change than any election that has been held in the past decade.¡±

    Felix¡¯s eyes trailed down to the table, ¡°Is that not a touch sad? All of that sacrifice and fighting ¨C and the outcome has not had the impact that anyone expected.¡±

    ¡°I think that one day parliament will become more important, if that is what you mean. Other nations are following on Walser¡¯s wake with every year that passes. People are demanding to become to masters of their own destiny, to project a national image of their own that is disconnected from royalty or religion.¡±

    A lot of what I was saying flew over his head. That was all spoken from the perspective of someone who was over a hundred years ahead of where this world was at now. It was easy for me to chart the path of history as these major changes swept across the world ¨C but for the people on the ground it was all too big and obscured for them to understand.

    The ¡®marriage interview,¡¯ which had devolved into us lamenting about our lives of fabulous wealth and comfort, was rudely interrupted by the arrival of one Theodore Van Walser. Wearing a long coat and reading a book, he waltzed through the rear doors of the patio and blindly walked past where we were seated.

    I didn¡¯t think anything of it, but Felix did. He stood out of his chair and pointed at him with an accusatory finger.

    ¡°Theodore, bugger off!¡±

    He looked up from the book and shrugged, ¡°What? I¡¯m not doing anything.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you are. You¡¯re walking past on purpose! You want to distract us while we¡¯re talking about the betrothal.¡±

    Felix stepped down from the pavilion and got into his personal space. This was a battle of fragile egos ¨C and Felix had gotten off to a bad start by being the one to blow up at Theodore for the grave offence of walking by without paying attention to what we were doing. Felix seemed to believe that I was so stricken by his appearance and status that he was already screwed out of the running.

    ¡°I was not even aware that you were involved, Felix.¡±

    ¡°Say all of the damn excuses you please, but I am not buying them! How many times has this happened now? Some young lady in waiting visits the palace and you have to make a show out of yourself, without fail, every time!¡±

    Theodore snapped his book shut and turned to face him fully, ¡°That is a very unbecoming accusation.¡±

    The tone in his voice was grave and deep, it was part of the reason why he commanded so much respect and awe at the academy. All of the students saw him as the most mature.

    ¡°Why do you always feel the need to meddle in everyone else¡¯s business?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not meddling. I was simply walking by until you called attention to my presence.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°That¡¯s more than enough for most the girls who visit the palace for interviews! Every single time, without fail, you gormlessly wander past during a meeting and they¡¯re immediately smitten with you. You don¡¯t even have the good manners to accept their proposals when they turn to your door.¡±

    ¡°Then surely your claim fails to pass muster? If I were so interested in stealing these maidens from you, would I not accept their offers?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about that. You¡¯re just happy to keep the rest of us at the bottom of the ladder so we can rot! You¡¯re never going to have to scrap and claw for a lady of good breeding, that¡¯s for sure.¡±

    Theodore¡¯s arc in the game was fairly straightforward. He was the third child in line for the throne, he felt inadequate compared to his brothers, yet he refused to utilise his station to fulfil his ambitions. Maria manipulated him into becoming her partner in crime at the academy with a surface-level relationship designed to polish their images and little else.

    Samantha would become friends with him during her conflict with Maria and he¡¯d learn a life lesson about forging his own path. It was all saccharine and very on-the-nose, exactly the kind of plot one would expect from a romance-focused visual novel. He had to be sympathetic enough for the player to want to see his route, but have a hard edge so that he contrasted the other male characters.

    None of that had happened in this timeline, nor was it going to. Theodore has remained in the same place he started because I derailed all of that. Samantha was my friend, we¡¯d never butted heads at the academy, and I never intended to ensnare him in a fake relationship to varnish my reputation.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for you two to argue,¡± I interrupted, ¡°Theodore and I are already acquainted.¡±

    Felix scowled, ¡°So it¡¯s already too late. You¡¯ll be lavishing him with praise soon enough, I¡¯m sure of that.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to withdraw from the marriage contest if you feel that way,¡± I snapped in response.

    The ice in my voice made him sit up straight in his seat. Felix¡¯s face spoke of the internal uproar that was happening in his head. That was the wrong thing to say when dealing with a lady you were trying to marry; accusing her of infidelity or not taking it seriously before you even get deep into the running.

    I wasn¡¯t taking it seriously ¨C but he didn¡¯t know that.

    ¡°I apologize. Theodore is blessed with... good looks.¡±

    And he was third in line for the throne. While it was unlikely that he¡¯d sit on the throne before he died of old age, it was still a position of significant leverage that would have every ambitious noble slobbering like a hungry beast at the thought of it. No wonder they dropped everything and pursued him.

    ¡°You needn¡¯t sweeten your words for my sake, Felix. They are not interested in my good looks or my intelligence or manner. They simply see me as an opportunity to get closer to Father.¡±

    ¡°No, no. They all say the same thing. All of those girls go along with their parent¡¯s demands because they believe you¡¯re the most handsome member of the family,¡± Felix contested.

    I had no horse in the race of who the most handsome royal was, but Theodore had that reputation in the game and in this world for a reason. The boy looked like a statue ¨C with perfectly proportioned features and flowing hair. The ¡®appeal¡¯ of Theodore in the game was that he was supposed to feel unattainable, that he was too perfect to date a commoner like Samantha.

    ¡°I can assure you that Lady Maria is not one to place all of her value in one¡¯s appearance. Rather, she seems to weigh the status and looks of others very little when she is speaking with them at the academy.¡±

    Theodore was astute. He had noticed that I was polite to everyone unless they annoyed me. He would not have called that out if he didn¡¯t also believe that it was exceptional in some way. In his eyes, it went beyond being taught good manners by my father.

    Felix turned to me, ¡°Is that true?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve always been a poor judge of my behaviour, but I do try my utmost to treat everyone with respect and fairness. I am certainly not smitten blind by Theodore.¡±

    Was he happy to hear me say that? It must have been a relief to find a noble girl who wasn¡¯t chomping at the bit to lock a ring on his finger as quickly as possible. Felix¡¯s face lit up like the fourth of July.

    ¡°And just so you know, girls don¡¯t like that jealous act. It¡¯s offputting.¡±

    And he slumped over again, defeated.

    Theodore adjusted his reading glasses, ¡°The only reason I¡¯m out here in the garden is because they¡¯re making a lot of noise inside at the moment. There appears to be some kind of security panic that has them flustered.¡±

    ¡°Security panic?¡± Felix repeated, ¡°I bet one of the ladies-in-waiting found a mouse in her room again, and all hands have to be mustered to catch it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that the ladies-in-waiting have been told not to summon the guards for banal reasons like those. I suspect that it is a serious matter.¡±

    ¡°And we¡¯re still performing these marriage interviews?¡±

    He turned to me. I offered my perspective, ¡°Mister Fleur warned me that there was an incident with an intruder earlier. I said that I was happy to remain here in the safe hands of the Royal Guard. I see no reason to pack my things and flee the palace. It must have been a vagrant who wandered inside.¡±

    I was the one who knocked him out, but they didn¡¯t know that.

    I had to find out who he was leaving those packages for, as well as locate and remove them before they could be used against Thersyn and his family. It could have been any manner of assassination tool, although if Farnham was able to sneak through with a gun on his person ¨C then there must have been a good reason for them to smuggle them through the on-site post office.

    It didn¡¯t get much more conspicuous than a gun, but perhaps the assassin they sent was hoping to ensure that it was not a suicide mission. Some variety of poison was my next best guess. But Thersyn would have a taster who risked their life to avoid that kind of attack, and the killer would know that he would not eat anything he was given before that test was performed.

    But all of that was additionally contingent on the assassin thinking this through rationally and coming to the same conclusions that I was. Nothing so convenient could be relied on when there was a clear and present danger. I had to go outside the box and consider the facts that made this world unique and different to my own.

    If not a gun or poison, then what? There were magical items like Adrian¡¯s watch that could possess a variety of powerful effects. It was possible that Welt and his benefactors possessed an item that could make killing Thersyn an easy job. All they had to do was get it into the property.

    There was a key benefit to that plan. The item would look inconspicuous if someone were to open and investigate the package for foul play. Farnham was given them to deliver to a different spot in the palace without being seen. The assassin would be visiting to pick up his tools.

    Welt knew about the Horr. His attempts to squeeze information from Genta were foiled by his stubbornness, but there were still surviving cult members who possessed that information. The package could have contained a bag of blood and instructions on how to create a summoning circle. Unleashing a demon into the palace was imprecise but deadly.

    There were other esoteric possibilities too. This was a world of magic, and strange creatures as an extension. My knowledge of what could be utilised to kill a person was limited considering the sheer size and scope of the world that surrounded me. Finding information wasn¡¯t as easy as opening my laptop and searching for it either. I had to dive deep into books and archives, and corroborating the information within was difficult.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be on my way. Good luck, Felix.¡±

    Theodore bowed his head and took his leave, punctuating the end of a tumultuous marriage interview for Felix. I could sense that he felt he had completely wasted his chance to make a good impression on me. It was lucky for him that I had no intention of picking a winner in the first place. That would be better for his ego on the other side of it all.

    We headed back to the sitting room where the others were patiently waiting for their turn. However, it turned out that one of them had spied Theodore walking through the gardens, and an air of inevitable doom had cloaked the space. Why did they believe that I was so easily swayed by someone just because of their good looks? It was insulting.

    ¡°Is this the waiting room or a funeral parlour?¡± I commented bleakly.

    Felix put his hands on his hips and shook his head, ¡°Is this because of Theodore?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s over!¡± one of the bachelors cried, ¡°We can¡¯t compete with him!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s going to dismiss all of us right now. I can feel it in my bones.¡±

    A murmur of agreement travelled across the room and into my ears. Felix was one to talk when he immediately launched into an argument with the guy because he walked past us on accident a few minutes before.

    ¡°I have no intention of ending the process here and chasing Theodore down the garden. Is there anybody who is not presently too busy wallowing in their self-imposed inadequacy to take the next block of time?¡±

    None of the boys stood from their seats. What the hell was going on around here?

    ¡°I think Mister Fleur will have to come and talk some sense into them,¡± Felix suggested.

    I sighed, ¡°Mister Fleur is busy with the security problem, is he not?¡±

    I did need to go and find out what Franklin was doing. He still hadn¡¯t returned to the sitting room long after I anticipated him to be done dealing with the Farnham issue. This was a good excuse to step out for a while and see what was going on. I snapped my fingers and tried to get their attention, but they only groaned and swayed from side to side like a pack of zombies...

    The decision was made for me; ¡°Very well. Let¡¯s go and find him. They¡¯re all catatonic anyway.¡±

    Felix had a sour expression, and none of the other suitors noticed as we slipped through the door and closed it behind us. I had a good idea of where Fleur and Franklin could be. They were likely loitering by the room where we trapped Farnham earlier. I took off and Felix followed closely behind me.

    I also kept my eyes peeled for any suspicious packages along the way.

 Chapter 166

    It was utter bedlam when I reached the wing of the building where Farnham had hidden before we found him. I had expected the staff to try and keep a tight lid on what was happening ¨C but there were dozens of armed guards hurrying to and fro like a herd of decapitated chickens. I recovered Franklin from near the stairwell, who looked like he¡¯d just run a marathon.

    ¡°What the hell happened to you?¡±

    ¡°Before I could get away the Royal Guard pulled me aside and started interrogating me about what happened. You know I¡¯m a terrible liar, Maria ¨C I had to come up with an explanation for how he ended up on the floor with a broken nose and a shattered vase.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t see your knuckles?¡±

    ¡°No. They didn¡¯t notice. Is there a reason you came back to get me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for Mister Fleur. Theodore Van Walser walked past the room they were sitting in, and they¡¯ve collectively decided that the contest is over because I¡¯m stricken so strongly by his good looks and high station that I will reject them in pursuit of him.¡±

    ¡°If I may be frank for a moment, he is probably a better choice...¡±

    ¡°Spare me the mockery for a second. Have you seen him anywhere?¡±

    He turned to face the corridor, which was now cordoned off and guarded by two armed men. If Fleur was in that direction then we wouldn¡¯t be able to get him, and the interview process would come to a premature end as the rest of the bachelors pulled out in response.

    ¡°Nothing can ever be simple!¡± I complained.

    Not only did I have to keep the plates spinning to have an excuse to be in the palace, but I also had to open up the space to go searching for whatever packages Farnham had smuggled into the building while nobody was paying attention. If the bachelors all gave up at the same time then my stay would be cut short, and Thersyn would be in serious trouble.

    If Thersyn died ¨C then all kinds of hell would break loose across the nation, and that chaos would disproportionally benefit Sloan and his insane plan, whatever it was. I was starting to think that pulling the trigger on Welt¡¯s assassination was a bad idea. Hindsight was twenty-twenty though. I never expected Sloan to take over.

    I was stuck. I had to find Fleur before my cover story fell apart.

    It was time to swallow my pride and play the part of an entitled noble once again. Puffing out my chest and putting on a frustrated expression, I approached one of the guards and begged for their attention.

    ¡°Excuse me, gentlemen ¨C but have you seen Mister Fleur? There is an urgent matter I must speak with him about as soon as possible.¡±

    The guard shot me a look that said my problem wasn¡¯t anywhere near as urgent as the one that Fleur was currently occupied with. These guards were just as good at placating uptight nobles as they were at combat, so he did not say that aloud and deferred to a more palatable response.

    ¡°Apologies, my lady. Mister Fleur is presently occupied with an incident that demands his attention. May I forward your concerns to him?¡±

    I crossed my arms and tapped my foot impatiently, ¡°I¡¯m afraid it simply cannot wait. Mister Fleur told me that it was his primary responsibility to respond to the needs of the royal family ¨C and I doubt that they¡¯ll be happy should the worst come to pass.¡±

    ¡°What appears to be the problem, ma¡¯am?¡±

    I did my best to explain in fine (and extremely snooty) detail about what was happening with Theodore and the other suitors in the sitting room, and how unhappy their parents would be if the whole arrangement collapsed merely because they were demoralized by his mere presence in the same building.

    He did not accept that as an urgent issue that superseded the attempted assassination of the former King, but he was duty-bound to find Fleur and relay what I said to him regardless of his personal opinion. He nodded, moved away from his station by the entryway, and disappeared out of sight to search for him.

    He probably felt that Fleur was trying to upset him when he marched down that same hallway a few minutes later to meet with me. I put on a show of looking flustered about the situation for him.

    ¡°It¡¯s a disaster. There won¡¯t be anyone left to forward the proposal to at this rate!¡±

    ¡°Why? What happened?¡±

    ¡°Theodore walked by the sitting room and for whatever reason they¡¯ve all concluded that I¡¯m now enraptured with him, despite the fact that we attend the very same academy, and no such romance has developed before this point.¡±

    Fleur tried his best not to let his irritation shine through the wrinkles on his face, ¡°Ah. I see. Yes ¨C that has happened once or twice, or thrice, or maybe five times before. The young ladies who visit can be very fickle, and it does damage their confidence somewhat.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m hardly the person to entrust a collective therapy session to. Do you have any good ideas we can use to get them all back on track?¡±

    Fleur stroked his chin and thought about his options, ¡°It is my responsibility to their parents to ensure that the full process is played out as intended. Have you tried complimenting them?¡±

    My face dropped like a rock, ¡°Complimenting them?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m sure praise from a beautiful young lady will perk them up again. They¡¯re afraid of losing out to Theodore, you see, so this would be an effective remedy to the situation.¡±

    Franklin shook his head, ¡°She doesn¡¯t do compliments.¡±

    Fleur was visibly confused, ¡°Doesn¡¯t... do them?¡±

    ¡°Oh, she¡¯s always polite and praises the servants, and gives credit to those who perform well in their duties of obligations, but I¡¯ve never once heard the young mistress offer so much as a word of flattery for anyone.¡±

    I glared at him. Franklin shot up straight and tensed his entire body like a statue.

    ¡°I am no flirt, not at all.¡±

    I had subjected myself to many different humiliations since becoming Maria, even when nobody was going to judge me for doing them. They saw the rightful actions of a young noble lady and nothing more, but that did little to blunt the shame of having to act the part at balls and parties or keeping on airs at the academy.

    There was one line that I refused to cross. I could not and would not bear the burden of massaging the ego of every narcissistic boy I crossed paths with. All of the nobles claimed that young ladies should be reserved and well-mannered, but they actually wanted them to sing the praises of every guy they met. How to walk that nightmarishly thin line between being a harlot and a prospective betrothal partner was left unsaid.

    It wasn¡¯t happening. My lips simply could not contort themselves into the necessary shape to offer such coquettish words. To make me do so would be like drawing blood from a stone!

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing crude about it,¡± Fleur reasoned, ¡°There must be an elegant way to deliver that impression to them without upsetting your standards.¡±

    I could tell that this guy was used to managing the egos of his employers. He had the tone and smooth language of an expert negotiator. The problem was that he was talking to a middle-aged man in a teenager¡¯s body, and I wasn¡¯t going to budge no matter how he rephrased the proposal.

    Franklin pulled Fleur aside and whispered something to him.

    ¡°Really? Not even once?¡±

    Franklin shook his head, ¡°It seems to be a red line.¡±

    ¡°I can still hear you both!¡± I sang.

    He decided to try a different style of rhetoric. Franklin swallowed his fear and made an observation that would make or break the entire process.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I understand that you are not comfortable with coy words, but I have to mention that such things will be expected as a matter of course should you choose to marry one of them.¡±

    That was the funniest goddamn thing I¡¯d heard during my entire second life thus far. Who the hell did he think he was kidding with a statement like that? If there was one aspect of most noble marriages that defined them ¨C it was a complete and total lack of genuine intimacy between the partners.

    This was a world of political and convenient weddings. They¡¯d get together, pump out a few kids, and then spend the rest of their lives trying to avoid one another. It boggled my mind that Franklin could deploy that argument against me. Even Fleur wasn¡¯t brave enough to nod along with that canard.

    ¡°I highly doubt that is the case. I think every one of those boys would be pleased as a pig in muck to have me a trophy they can parade around. I could never speak a word to them for the rest of my days and it wouldn¡¯t dull their enthusiasm.¡±

    Fleur sighed, ¡°You are a very beautiful young lady, but they need to feel motivated to participate in the interview.¡±

    Not the point I was trying to make. It was obvious that all of them were entitled chauvinists who didn¡¯t care one bit about the personality of the woman they were hitching their lives to. As long as I looked pretty and kept my mouth shut, they would be happy with the situation. In essence, I was asking why flirting with them was even a requirement.

    But Fleur thought I was bragging about my looks instead. Acting like this around people was a double-edged sword because they could interpret my words in an entirely different way than the one I intended. I had to be more careful. Fleur had never met me before.

    ¡°I was hoping that you would have an answer to the problem. You said before that you handle all matters relating to the different branches of the family, ensuring that they¡¯re well-tended to and happy.¡±

    He was a glorified babysitter for grown adults.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that my last attempt to navigate this issue was a failure, and those boys haven¡¯t forgiven Theodore for it in the months following. They become discouraged rather easily when he is involved.¡±

    Fleur was pushing the task of finding a solution onto me then. I threw up my hands and made a show of being disappointed by his lack of initiative, but he wasn¡¯t budging. I really was going to have to try and beguile them with my looks and words, or else I wouldn¡¯t have a reason to be in the palace.

    ¡°Very well! Remain here if you must, and I¡¯ll create my own solution.¡±

    Fleur did exactly that. I dragged Franklin along with me and returned to the reception room, hovering by the door while I wracked my mind for a good way to get things back on track.

    Franklin peered through a crack in the door, ¡°Perhaps a break is warranted?¡±

    ¡°No. If we let them go, they won¡¯t be back. I have to nip this in the bud.¡±

    It was time to demonstrate the incredible social skills that I had accumulated over years of working as an assassin and while enduring my new life as a noble lady in waiting. It was safe to say that many people across the nation would hang onto my every utterance. It was of vital importance that I went above and beyond in the here and now to keep the plan from falling to pieces!

    I collected myself and took a moment to think through what I was going to say.

    ¡°Okay. Let us begin.¡±

    Franklin opened the door and stood beside it as was proper of my personal servant. I followed him through and headed back to the prime speaking position in the centre of the reception room. I was surrounded on all sides by young men who were trapped in the throes of despair, and only the high-class charm of Maria Walston-Carter could save them.

    I clapped my hands and drew their attention back to me.

    ¡°Honestly, what do you all think you are doing? Is this all it takes for Theodore to so thoroughly demoralize you? If you give up so easily ¨C it is no wonder that you¡¯ve had no success thus far.¡±

    Felix chuckled into his closed fist. He was having a great time watching everyone lose their heads over Theodore walking past, despite being the first one to do so when we were outside.

    ¡°You all have... certain qualities that Theodore does not. For a start, you make better conversation than he does!¡±

    Because Theodore was nicknamed the ¡®Ice King¡¯ at school. He never talked with anyone, and those who tried were quickly chased away. Getting a poor quality and testy discussion with these guys was more of a stimulating experience. It was technically true! The best kind of true.

    ¡°You dress well, and keep yourselves trimmed and clean, and your faces are downright tolerable.¡±

    Okay ¨C I might have fucked this up.

    I paused and assessed the damage I did by saying that. That wasn¡¯t a compliment at all! I was just insulting them with backhanded praise. Who the hell was I to think that I could successfully flirt with these people? Playing a lot of visual novels was not training for romance in real life.

    Slowly, one by one, the boys slowly withdrew from their shells and paid closer attention to me. One of them, a guy named Adalbert, stood from his seat and spoke about what was on his mind.

    ¡°Lady Maria, that may be the...¡±

    End of this interview process, and the near-certain death of the King?

    ¡°... the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to us!¡±

    Oh. Of course.

    To my endless shock, the other suitors all nodded in concurrence with his opinion. Being told that they were ¡®tolerable¡¯ was seemingly a cut above what every other girl who came here was willing to offer them.

    ¡°I mean, there have been many girls passing through the gates to host these marriage contests ¨C but I have to praise your earnestness. Usually, they become grossly frustrated and hurl insults at us.¡±

    The room recollected some of those instances.

    ¡°They do tend to do that...¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. The last one said I have a face like a bruised potato.¡±

    ¡°Remember when that girl threw her shoe at Eike?¡±

    What in the Goddess¡¯ holy name were these people up to when I wasn¡¯t around? Were the other girls thin-skinned or did I possess the patience of a saint? It was obvious from their stories that none of these interviews ever went well ¨C which may explain their attraction to Theodore more than his station or good looks.

    ¡°That¡¯s all well and good, but you should focus on what¡¯s happening right now. I won¡¯t pretend that it¡¯s a certainty, but I hope that you will all put forth your best effort from now on and forget about Theodore.¡±

    They were so enamoured with me that it didn¡¯t matter what I said or did. They were going to ride this sinking ship all the way to the sea floor. That was perfect for my purposes. I could even stretch the competition out a little more by asking for further discussions and acting indecisive.

    On the other hand, I was now forced to endure even more of this bullshit.

    Never let anyone say that I wasn¡¯t willing to take one for the team.

    I endured the rest of the discussions with them in the two hours that followed before the end was called. I accompanied Franklin back to the dining hall for our evening meal before we were intercepted by Fleur on the way out.

    ¡°Allow me to show you to your guest room, Lady Maria.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. I do have a question though. I am something of a restless sleeper, would it be permitted for me to walk the halls at night?¡±

    Fleur was going to be slack on whatever rules were in place when it came to a verified guest such as me.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why that would be an issue. All of the relevant staff know that you are staying with us. The only place you should avoid are the King¡¯s wing and the area that has been cordoned off downstairs.¡±

    The restricted areas of the palace had guards in place twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It was not difficult to determine where I was allowed to go. It was likely that Farnham had hidden his packages in the areas that were lightly patrolled so as to avoid the possibility of being caught.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    With that last item sorted out, Fleur left to go back to his usual business. It was obvious that he was being pulled away from the betrothal competition to help organize a search of the palace for whoever was working with Farnham. Either they were being cautious or he had sung like a canary to the Royal Guard to keep all of his teeth intact.

    But like everything that involved me ¨C I was going to have to be the one to resolve the issue. It was simple narrative structure. Why would I even be standing in this guest bedroom if not for the need of my presence? Durandia had seen this coming and stood aside to let it happen.

    The task was a daunting one. There was no way that I could thoroughly search hundreds of rooms looking for where Farnham had left his deliveries. Some of these rooms were gigantic too, with dozens of places to conceal all kinds of horrible things.

    ¡°Franklin, I need you to give me a helping hand with this.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say I understand why you go to such lengths, but I am duty-bound to follow you no matter where you go.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple. I would like for Walser to continue on without experiencing any more mass bloodshed like what happened during the civil war. Nor do I wish to see a repeat of what happened at our manor.¡±

    Franklin¡¯s face turned sour; ¡°You mean the massacre?¡±

    We had never openly spoke of the cultist incident since it happened. Franklin was never interested in repeating what he saw during that time, and I knew better than to pressure him into a heart-to-heart that he did not want.

    ¡°Yes. A climate such as this emboldens the worst types of people. Through a chain of cause and effect, the very same monarchists who now threaten the stability of the nation assisted those cultists in launching their attack. They all see opportunity in suffering.¡±

    He exhaled through his nose, ¡°Apologies, but there is only one group of people who I can find the reason to blame.¡±

    ¡°It matters. When the craven and the ambitious see so much opportunity they will not relent to their better nature. The Scuncath felt emboldened by the political situation, and now those same politicians see a weakness in the government that they can exploit. All of them want the same outcome.¡±

    ¡°That being?¡±

    ¡°To be remembered. Buildings crumble, railways and roads are stripped away and replaced, and statues may be toppled if history does not look kindly on them. To engrave your name into the pages of history is their desire, as they already possess everything else a man could ever need.¡±

    I walked to the window where a globe of the planet was held aloft by a grass frame. I placed my hand over Walser and spun it with force, completing four rotations from a single touch.

    ¡°Ekkehard and Sloan want Thersyn dead. He¡¯s the most popular member of the royal family, and thus he ironically poses the biggest threat to their attempts to reinstitute the monarchy as supreme over all.¡±

    Thersyn was the one who compromised to end the civil war. If he died there would be no pumping the breaks on what was coming down the track. It would be a return to some of the darkest days in the nation¡¯s history ¨C and more importantly, it would push us one step closer to total destruction.

    Sloan was the man who had the means to do it, but the question remained large in my mind. Why? Could it be arrogance, nihilism, or something else? What drove Sloan to become the antagonist in this story?

    It was time for us to begin our inspection of the palace. I switched into a set of comfortable sleeping clothes to enhance the image of a restless noble trying to tire herself out by wandering the halls at night. Franklin remained silent, leaving the room to give me some privacy.

    I considered bringing my gun, still tucked into the bottom of my trunk, but thought better of it. The last thing I needed was for some overzealous guard to search me for contraband. I slammed it shut and left the room.

    ¡°Ready?¡± I asked.

    ¡°As I can be, ma¡¯am.¡±

 Chapter 167

    Felix was still ruminating on the disaster of the day gone by when the sun set and plunged the expansive palace into darkness. It didn¡¯t matter how many lanterns and lights they installed ¨C the sheer size of the building, combined with the tall ceilings always made it feel dark and foreboding. Felix preferred to stay in his room and whittle away the final hours of the day reading.

    Few people travelled past these parts at this time of night. In fact, nobody could be found wandering this area of the palace. Felix was the other handful of residents in the wing who were left to their own devices. Consequently, any small sounds coming from outside could easily be heard by a pair of attentive ears.

    Felix¡¯s curiosity drew him to the door, which he opened and peered through. The sight that awaited him on the other side was breathtaking. Quite literally at that! He almost forgot to inhale because of what was awaiting him on the other side.

    She was standing by the window outside of his room. Her perfectly sculpted face stared out into the gardens below with a serene expression. Felix felt his heart skip a beat. She truly was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. She was the doll-like beauty that every noble bachelor wanted to claim for themselves.

    It was extremely unusual how prolific rumours about Maria were. Those stories rarely breached the walls of the palace, but Maria was special. Everyone was stricken by her looks, her manners, and the influence of her family.

    But the question that sprung to mind was why? Why was Maria outside of his room?

    There was only one answer.

    Felix was beside himself. Maria Walston-Carter was wandering the halls outside of his bedroom! He didn¡¯t think for one second that Maria never learned where his room was, but that didn¡¯t matter to him in the moment. This was the kind of forbidden midnight rendezvous that all of the novels in the library spoke of.

    He straightened out his night clothes, swept his hair aside and ensured that every fine detail was in the right place. When that process was done he opened it wide and stepped out to meet the woman whom he hoped would soon choose him to marry.

    ¡°Lady Maria, what are you doing here so late at night?¡±

    ¡°Oh, Felix ¨C is this where your bedroom is located?¡±

    He smiled, ¡°Yes. I and a few other distant relations stay in this wing of the palace.¡±

    Felix finally noticed that they weren¡¯t alone. Maria¡¯s personal attendant was standing a respectful distance away with his hands folded over his lap.

    ¡°I¡¯m honoured that you came to see me-¡±

    Felix stopped in his tracks.

    Looking too desperate would only push her away. He needed to be the better man in this situation and be even-handed towards his competitors. Surely Maria would appreciate his restraint and sense of fair play. He switched tracks mid-sentence without thinking twice about how odd it sounded to her ears.

    ¡°The others won¡¯t think it¡¯s fair for us to fraternize outside of the interviews,¡± Felix said, ¡°I understand that you might feel that we have a special connection ¨C but you really ought to wait until the final day.¡±

    Felix deployed his winning smile, pearly white teeth gleaming in the low light of lanterns that lined both sides of the corridor. He smiled and smiled and smiled some more, but it started to waver as Maria stared a hole through him and didn¡¯t respond to his well-considered reply.

    ¡°Is... is something wrong?¡±

    ¡°No. I am simply taking a late-night stroll. I am a restless sleeper, and using my legs makes it easier for me.¡±

    Felix tried not to let the implication of her words settle in, lest he spoil the satisfaction he felt about his smooth proposition. That tiny voice in the back of his mind saying that ¡®Maria wasn¡¯t here to see you, idiot¡¯ was drowned out by his overpowering ego. Felix decided instead to savour the new nugget of personal information that he had gleaned from their interaction, guarding it jealously like a dragon sitting on their hoard.

    ¡°Ah. I myself prefer to read a few books before turning in for the night. We all have our own ways of wearing ourselves out.¡±

    ¡°I see. I do hope that nothing amiss is happening around this wing of the palace after what happened earlier.¡±

    Felix had heard all about it once the word got out. Someone had broken into the palace grounds in a staff uniform and smashed up a vase in one of the studies, only to be found unconscious with a loaded firearm tucked into his belt. The guards had promptly apprehended him and hauled him away for questioning.

    ¡°Hm. If one wanted to sneak into the palace and conceal themselves, this would be a good place to do so. There is little foot traffic at night and many empty rooms one could hide and rest inside of. Do you worry about the security arrangements? You can speak with the guards if you are concerned.¡±

    Maria offered a wry smile; ¡°Not at all. I¡¯m certain that they¡¯re the best of the best. The palace would demand no less, would it not?¡±

    Felix tried not to look too excited about Maria expressing concern for his safety and wellbeing. She may have been frosty and stern on the outside, but she was really a kind girl beneath the outer shell! She was more generous and understanding than any of the other noble girls who visited for the same purpose before. He wanted to fall to his knees and propose on the spot!

    No, no. It was too soon to make a bold move like that. He had to bide his time.

    ¡°Y-Yes, the Royal Guard are indeed the best when it comes to securing the palace. They know the floorplan like the back of their hand! I¡¯ve lived here for some years and still got lost occasionally.¡±

    ¡°Hm. Luckily I have a very good sense of direction then,¡± Maria replied, ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to enjoy your evening then. I hope that you will join us tomorrow for the next round of discussion.¡±

    ¡°Naturally. Good night.¡±

    Felix retreated back through the door and locked it shut, clutching his pounding heart with one hand. A few hours ago, he was convinced that his chances of achieving victory were done for ¨C but now everything had been turned on its head! Maria was eager to speak with him again!

    He wasn¡¯t merely going to attend the next round, he was going to win it all there and then. He could finally prove to his parents that the time they spent raising him and rubbing elbows wasn¡¯t a waste, standing proudly at the top of an extremely wealthy and influential family. Getting to wed a beautiful girl like Maria was enough of a reward in itself too.

    Felix floated back to his bed and collapsed down on it with a beaming smile. It was all going his way now. He simply had to keep his nerve and secure what he believed was an incoming victory.

    <hr>

    ¡°Why was he so happy to see me?¡±

    Franklin pulled a sour face, ¡°I don¡¯t know. Aren¡¯t they all excited to become your spouse?¡±

    ¡°Yes ¨C but he was the one who kickstarted the despair spiral when Theodore showed up earlier. I was certain that he had completely given up on winning the contest.¡±

    We had been wandering the lonesome halls of the palace for almost an hour at this point. Farnham was very tight-lipped on the specifics of where he hid his packages, but the lesser visited areas of the property would be his likely destination. The sheer size of the complex meant that someone could hide an item in any of these rooms and they wouldn¡¯t be found until it was too late.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    Honestly, what did they even need this much living space for?

    At least half of the rooms we investigated were the same. Shelves lining the walls, couches and chairs to sit on, and maybe a dining table near the windows. Was there a huge demand of social settings that most of the palace had to be made up of them? They came in every colour and atmosphere one could imagine too.

    The process was simple; find a corridor filled with unused rooms, alternate them between me and Franklin, and scour every inch of them for any signs of the package that Farnham claimed to have left behind for another killer to pick up later. That meant under and inside every piece of furniture, in suits or armour, between the books, and behind the paintings on the walls, and those were the most obvious spots that came to mind.

    We cleared another pair of stuffy rooms and reunited at the junction at the end of the corridor.

    ¡°This place is driving me mad!¡± I complained, ¡°It¡¯s all the same. I thought my Father had a dull taste in interior design. This family has all the money in the world yet not a single innovative idea to use with it.¡±

    ¡°We are here to stop an assassination, not critique the interior decoration of the palace.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to distract myself from this tedious job.¡±

    It was too risky to let the plan progress further in the hopes of making them easier to catch. A single lapse in security could lead to a dead legitimate King and a hell of a lot of trouble for the entire country. As important as that was, it was presently being expressed as a series of hidden object games all contained within the same room layout duplicated hundreds of times.

    ¡°We¡¯re never going to find what we¡¯re looking for at this pace,¡± Franklin sighed.

    I stopped in my tracks and leaned against the wall, ¡°I hate to admit it ¨C but you are correct. We haven¡¯t been left with any good options though.¡±

    I was more critical of this plan than anyone. It was primitive and stupid in equal amounts. The size of the palace had exceeded my initial estimate by several magnitudes, no wonder the common folk were so testy when it came to the royal family at times. They must have blown a decade¡¯s worth of the state budget building this compound!

    Elegant. I needed an elegant solution.

    So why on earth couldn¡¯t I come up with one? I should have pressed Farnham on where he left these damn things, but would he even remember at that point? He might have been given directions on a piece of paper and gotten rid of them once he was done with the delivery.

    It would be easier for me to find the odd one out among the staff. The security team in charge of the palace were smart. They found out about what happened to Welt and immediately took defensive measures to keep the new man in charge from storming the palace and killing the former King. More guards were posted, the mail was closely vetted, and the servants were rotated out early to disrupt any potential plans that were already in motion.

    Getting an insider into that rotation was the most obvious route of attack ¨C but getting close to Thersyn was another matter entirely. Only the most trusted individuals were going to be told which room he was staying in, and they¡¯d be searched from head to toe every time they passed through to offer their service.

    They¡¯d need to know where he was, have someone inside the palace to do the job, and have a window of opportunity to execute with the tools that Farnham had smuggled inside. Pressing the management team for personal details about the new hires was not going to work.

    ¡°Are you sure we can¡¯t leave this to the Royal Guard?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re already here. We may as well do our part to find out what they¡¯re planning.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean. I¡¯m fully aware of what you intend, and what you¡¯ve done ¨C and in many ways I agree with it. I still find your motivations mystifying. You¡¯re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and for what?¡±

    The patterns on the tiled floor drew me in.

    ¡°It¡¯s difficult to trust a stranger with something important,¡± I said, ¡°Does it not stir you to action when the world is going mad?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but that¡¯s a different issue from running from end to end, trying to be there when the first shot is fired. You are only one girl. You cannot expect yourself to be everywhere, at all times, all at once.¡±

    This wasn¡¯t the same as before. When I was an assassin I chose who to kill. There was no pressing threat of complete global annihilation. All of that was too big for me. Those were the decisions made by presidents and dictators, holding the nuclear codes and a briefcase with a big red button inside.

    The paranoid state I was in was always what Durandia intended. She had placed me into the position of the ¡®protagonist¡¯ so that I would run myself ragged. When there was a problem, I was the only one around who could deal with it. It wasn¡¯t enough. Xenia¡¯s talk about not understanding the gift we¡¯d been given rang in my ears.

    Durandia also knew they were going to say that to us. They passed through the Veil and into this world, under the watchful eye of the Red Tree, and thus willingly submitted to the whims of fate. What was I missing? The books I borrowed did not reveal any secrets unknown to me.

    ¡®Nihility¡¯ had to be more than a way to separate molecules by filling their bonds with energy. It was a glorified way to boil water. Xenia mentioned that these powers encroached on the realm of divinity and that Durandia would have to have received special permission to give them to us.

    Regeneration and destruction ¨C two sides of the same coin. These were primordial abilities that could go as far as we wanted to take them, the building blocks of an entire universe. My mind was wandering. I was totally lost again. I sneered and kicked the wall with the back of my shoe, jolting Franklin back to attention.

    ¡°Oh! I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to offend.¡±

    ¡°No. You did nothing wrong. I am only angry with myself.¡±

    If I understood these powers could I really be a hero and prove Franklin wrong? Could I be everywhere, at all times, all at once? Or maybe Durandia intended for these powers to be like a key, used once at an important moment and discarded afterwards.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t reasonable for me to become the sole problem-solver like this.¡±

    I was half intent on paying penance for my misdeeds and half devoted to trying to eek out a little extra life after having my last one cut short. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Durandia pulled the plug on me once the threat was resolved ¨C but I had to get there first to find out. Franklin knew neither of those facts. Hell, he didn¡¯t even know how I had turned into a trained killer. He assumed it had something to do with Veronica.

    ¡°My duty is to ensure that you are kept safe, Maria. Your Father entrusted me with that task a long time ago, and I¡¯ll be damned if I¡¯m going to fail in fulfilling that mission.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate it. I¡¯ve already asked too much of you in these past few weeks. You deserved to have more answers than I can offer.¡±

    ¡°I trust you. What¡¯s happened is disturbing, but I feel that you have everyone¡¯s best interests at heart.¡±

    That made at least two people who thought I was secretly a nice person beneath the sneer and a loaded gun. It was a shame that I didn¡¯t find the rhetoric convincing in the slightest.

    ¡°Maybe the answer is to put ourselves in the killer¡¯s shoes. What would be the easiest way to get to Thersyn when he¡¯s being kept in isolation within a certain wing of the palace?¡±

    Franklin looked to the windows, ¡°Could they break in from the outside?¡±

    ¡°That would get them in, but it¡¯s probable that there are guards outside of every major chokepoint and on every hallway crossing. It would be almost impossible to move without being seen.¡±

    ¡°Then they would have to gain entry to the wing legitimately.¡±

    Was there someone in Thersyn¡¯s inner circle who was willing to betray their oath and organize a hit on him? I could not rule out the possibility. A disgruntled employee was a source of operational weakness that I exploited dozens and dozens of times before, although in those cases it was for the sake of gaining a key into a restricted area or the password for a computer network.

    This disgruntled employee would either have to escort the killer through the heavily guarded area, be one of those guards, or do the difficult task of grabbing the packages and doing it themselves. That was a big ask for anyone who made a living cleaning bedsheets and serving tea.

    Okay ¨C so how could we gain entry into that restricted wing without breaking the rules ourselves? The last thing I needed was to commit an additional act of social suicide by getting kicked out of the palace for trespassing. Letting Welt¡¯s friends know that I was a murderous psychopath was more than enough to tarnish my reputation.

    Not that I cared about my image, but it was a useful tool in getting what I wanted.

    My connection with Theodore was the best bet, or somehow trying to connect the marriage interview process with Thersyn. I¡¯d heard him described as a shockingly personable man despite being one of the most powerful rulers in the world. It was not unusual for him to become interested in the ongoing events among the branches of the family.

    If I could get Theodore to talk to him about it, then he might become interested and invite me to speak with him. It was a long shot, but no less of a long shot than scrounging through every damnable room in the palace for what could potentially be a tiny package that might have already been taken by our target.

    But covering all of the angles was the best way to stop an assassination from happening. Working the building like this was a prerequisite to success, and I could build a mental map of where things were in case it became urgent in the future. The only resource I was spending was downtime.

    ¡°Let¡¯s head back to our rooms before any more of my suitors get stupid ideas.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Franklin concurred.

 Chapter 168

    Having given up on our search for the package or packages that Farnham had hidden somewhere in the palace grounds, we returned to the dining room that morning for breakfast with a dour mood hanging over our heads. There was a small buffet available for those who wished to finish quickly. I grabbed some grab and jam and sat at one of the tables to eat.

    We arrived at a bad time. Nobody else was in the hall with us, and there were two loud voices leaking through the double doors that led into the kitchen. Whatever the argument was supposed to be about before we arrived, it had quickly spilt out of the kitchen and into the dining room where we could all hear it.

    ¡°I will not compromise on my food, sir! I take pride in each and every dish I create, and it would be a grave insult to the King to offer him anything less than the best I can manage.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my choice to make, or yours, the guards have made it very clear to me that they want a simpler selection for the next two weeks. They¡¯re worried about someone poisoning the food.¡±

    ¡°Do you mean to imply that me, or one of my staff, would do such a horrible thing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to lie and say that they¡¯re not concerned, obviously ¨C but similar suspicion is being levied on every department in the palace as we speak. The postmaster¡¯s office has been cleared out and all of them sent home.¡±

    I sent a glance in Franklin¡¯s direction, who slowly edged closer to the doors where the argument was happening as their volume lowered back down to normal levels.

    ¡°Unbelievable. I¡¯ve served the King for seven years, and this is the kind of treatment I get from the guards?¡±

    ¡°As I said, it¡¯s not my position to argue with the protocols they¡¯ve instituted. They do not like servants second-guessing their decisions. Refusing to follow the order is liable to raise further alarm, I hope you realize that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll follow their orders, but I don¡¯t have to be happy about it. I won¡¯t hear any complaints about the food being too dry or plain after this.¡±

    ¡°See to it that you do.¡±

    A senior servant pushed through and marched away while shaking his head and murmuring to himself. Not everyone on the payroll was happy about the tightened security measures, especially when it called their loyalty and service into doubt.

    Franklin returned to my side, ¡°Hm. They¡¯re evidently concerned about the threat of poison, but that seems to be the most obvious route to me.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes the obvious methods are obvious because they are effective, although I highly doubt that they¡¯ll let any untested food reach the King¡¯s lips until the perceived threat has passed.¡±

    ¡°I was curious about that. Where did they get information about this attempt on his life? Welt¡¯s cabal has full control over WISA. They¡¯re the ones who conduct intelligence gathering domestically, correct?¡±

    ¡°It may have been a reaction to Welt¡¯s death. I suspect that Thersyn knows more about the situation than he lets on. They must have met and spoken at some point when he abdicated the crown to Ekkehard.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a deal between the two - more like an uneasy compromise. Thersyn was well-known for striking those after all. Thersyn wanted to take the path of least resistance so as to minimize the damage that Welt caused in pursuit of the throne. He could see the writing on the wall back then, as he could now.

    With Welt dead that uneasy truce was torn to shreds. I knew that Sloan had no qualms about launching attacks on protestors using what minions he had left after our arson plot. There were still a lot of them left and they wouldn¡¯t run out of supplies for some time. They could operate in the urban areas without having to worry while the conflict was frozen because there were still civilians to steal from.

    Thersyn understood his position. He had no real ability to stop Sloan, or the other prospective leaders of the rudderless conspiracy from breaking into the palace and killing him. Welt was a lunatic and a power-hungry bastard ¨C but he was also a meticulous plotter. Sloan had demonstrated no similar qualities.

    He didn¡¯t care about what happened. He wanted to burn it down and lord over the ruins.

    ¡°I struggle to see how the assassin can reach him under these circumstances,¡± he whispered while casting a weary glance towards the doors.

    ¡°They have allies in high places. Have you heard of who is permitted to enter the premises where Thersyn and his direct family is staying?¡±

    ¡°I believe they¡¯ve secured it almost completely. I overheard them speaking whilst offering my statement about Farnham yesterday. It will only be direct family members, trusted royal guards, and senior servants like Fleur.¡±

    I tucked that away into my mental library for later. They would need a very high-level rat to get into there, and even the hangers-on that infested the palace like cockroaches weren¡¯t going to get permission to go through those days no matter how offended they felt about it.

    I knew a little about the Royal Guard. That would be the easiest way for them to get someone on the inside ¨C but they were fiercely loyal. They were an explicitly partisan force in the military structure of Walser. Extensive screening and a long service history were only two of the many qualities that the recruiters looked for. They were tasked solely with the protection of the royal family, with a discretionary role when interacting with the other branches.

    While that sounded like a terrible idea given the nation¡¯s long and bloody history, the guard was also bound by a series of iron-clad rules. They submitted to the authority of the leading officers in the main force, they were bound to possess no more than one-thousand active and off-duty members at all times, and the kinds of equipment and organization they were permitted to utilise paled compared to the core army.

    They were by no means a ceremonial joke. Every single one of them was a battle-hardened veteran with extreme discipline and training. One could dismiss them based on their brightly coloured uniforms, which were becoming increasingly anachronistic in the modern military landscape, and their dedication to drills and marches, but that would be a deadly mistake.

    I¡¯d seen them guarding some areas of the ground floor. The first thing I noticed was how they always paired the guards together. They never moved alone. I suspected that this partner system was meant to keep everyone in line and working diligently on their assigned duties. It also meant that having a guard go rogue and cause problems was much harder. They would need to compromise two of them and have them paired at the right time.

    There were a lot of little mechanisms like that to consider. The officers in charge of the Royal Guard weren¡¯t stupid. They had seen these kinds of plots before and had studied their history carefully to protect against them.

    ¡°Keep your ears alert for any more discussions like those. They¡¯re helpful to us.¡±

    ¡°Naturally.¡±

    I finished my plate and returned it to the cart. The next round of the competition wasn¡¯t for an hour yet. I decided to wander around the palace and see if I could find any issues to involve myself in where I wasn¡¯t wanted. It also helped me get some exercise that wasn¡¯t under duress of being shot in the ass and killed. My routine was all kinds of ruined thanks to the chaotic times we were in.

    Trouble eventually found me in the form of two of the boys who remained in the running to become my husband. It was Otto and Conrad, and it was a strike against their already non-existent chance of victory that I recalled their names so vividly. They made a terrible first impression ¨C and only proceeded by virtue of being too stubborn to drop out after the first round.

    They closed in on me and started bickering before I could even say hello to them.

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re trying to do, Otto. You want to speak with Lady Maria outside of the allotted time to get an unfair advantage!¡±

    Conrad scoffed, ¡°Unfair? Let me tell you this, cousin ¨C life is unfair. Chance has just as much to do with success as skill or guile. You could say that being willing to approach Lady Maria demonstrates our motivation to achieve victory.¡±

    I patiently folded my hands into my lap. Most people would recognise this as a sign of irritation or a desire to speak, but they were too devoted to their spat to listen to me. I allowed them to continue unabated.Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°You¡¯ve always been a dirty no-good cheat. I remember when you kicked your ball through the pegs because you didn¡¯t want to lose to Ludwig in Polo...¡±

    ¡°That happened four years ago!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care! Ludwig watched you do it too. What¡¯s the point of winning if everyone thinks less of you afterwards? I¡¯d understand if there was something valuable on the line as a prize, but it was meant to be a friendly game!¡±

    ¡°There is something valuable this time!¡±

    It was a novel sensation being objectified after spending decades as a fairly unpleasant-looking man, although Otto was far from the first to do it, nor would he be the last. I couldn¡¯t get truly angry about it given that I had gleefully exploited my appearance to get what I wanted for years.

    Conrad made a slicing motion at his neck using his fingers. Otto swivelled on his heel and put on a smile of polite contrition.

    ¡°Not that I¡¯d ever state that you¡¯re some kind of trophy, Lady Maria!¡±

    My, what a feminist!

    ¡°I never made such an unflattering accusation. It is obvious to me that all of you greatly desire to become my betrothed. That is to be expected, and I am glad to see that all of you are putting forth your best efforts.¡±

    ¡°Good! That¡¯s wonderful to hear. To be honest, I¡¯m rather surprised that you weren¡¯t already engaged to someone.¡±

    I offered a half-truth in response, ¡°My father has always been the cautious type, and I¡¯m rather picky. He said that there¡¯s plenty of time to find an appropriate partner before that time comes ¨C and coming here was a decision I¡¯d wavered on before.¡±

    ¡°Why is that?¡± Otto inquired.

    ¡°The obvious choice was someone from my Father¡¯s circle of associates, but there were few options available by happenstance, and I felt it presumptuous to try and organize an interview with members of the Van Walser family ¨C even with our reputation as it is.¡±

    ¡°You are... surprisingly humble,¡± he murmured.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to worry about,¡± Conrad laughed, ¡°Thersyn is always trying to help our parents. Anyone who sends a letter soliciting a marriage interview will soon find themselves standing in your shoes.¡±

    ¡°Does this happen often?¡± I continued.

    ¡°Oh yes. You need not feel insignificant. We¡¯ve had girls and boys from small families, down-on-their-luck families, wealthy families and more.¡±

    Yet despite the supposed low standing of those candidates, this group of baboons was seemingly incapable of winning them over in a fair contest. These two, in particular, made a bad first impression, with Conrad bragging about his looks and status, and Otto turning into a nervous wreck that oscillated between being accidentally insulting and overly dramatic.

    It was no mystery to me why the suitors were walking away empty-handed.

    ¡°I know that this is not entirely above board, but is Thersyn still in charge around here?¡±

    Conrad nodded, ¡°Yes. Ekkehard...¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t like him very much,¡± Otto blurted out.

    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s right. He certainly doesn¡¯t command the respect of our parents and relatives just because he¡¯s holding the throne at the moment. They¡¯d sooner crawl through the dirt and drink bog water than let him have any say on the goings on around here.¡±

    ¡°I think Anton¡¯s father is friends with him,¡± Otto mused, ¡°He thinks it¡¯s his big break. He can climb up the ladder by sticking close to his side and acting like a suck-up.¡±

    Conrad laughed, ¡°As if. Ekkehard isn¡¯t destined for that position. He¡¯ll be out on his bum before the month is through.¡±

    Now that was the most interesting thing they¡¯d said since I arrived. Ekkehard had a few fast friends in the palace still ¨C although they¡¯d be remiss to admit as much out loud with Thersyn around. I would have thought that all of Ekkehard¡¯s toadies would have run for the hills or their summer homes, lest they become a pariah among the family.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know much about Ekkehard at all,¡± I said.

    Conrad couldn¡¯t help but snatch the opportunity to gloat over him.

    ¡°For good reason! A decade ago he was in our position, toiling away at marriage interviews and trying to lobby Thersyn for a better position. He was notable in the palace only for his inability to leverage his close relation with the main branch of the family. A worthless rube. He obviously got singled out by that Welt lunatic because he was easy to manipulate.¡±

    Otto didn¡¯t have the same sense of unearned self-esteem, so he shrugged it off with a more diplomatic response.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s helpful to insult him. To tell the truth, a lot of the family are merely strangers who share our name. Ekkehard was a rare sight in the palace. He preferred to live in the West at his family home, and he seldom had need to visit and offer his greetings to the King.¡±

    Neither of them was willing to refer to Ekkehard as the present King of Walser though. They were dancing around that point by implying that Thersyn continued to hold all of the authority, that or their parents would spank them black and blue for acknowledging the problem.

    ¡°I have to speak with someone before our next meeting. If you¡¯ll both excuse me.¡±

    They stepped aside and allowed me to pass through. I hoped that they wouldn¡¯t be too annoying when we gathered back in the reception room later. I expected to see fewer people involved this time around too. They were dropping like flies. It was a fine line to walk. I needed this process to last however long it took me to foil Sloan¡¯s assassination plot.

    But it wasn¡¯t looking good. I was getting nowhere at all.

    <hr>

    Deep in the heart of the palace was the living area utilised by the King and his close family. In normal times it was one of the most secure places in the world, with features that were taken from other high-security locations like banks and stock brokerages. It was patrolled at all times of day and night by a legion of armed guards, and every person leaving and entering was registered at one of two doorways that led inside.

    While the windows looking outside did have excellent views of the gardens, they were also positioned in a way that made it difficult to look into from below. That was combined with landscape and tree placement that obscured many lines of sight when moving further away from the building¡¯s rear.

    Crucially, no other windows looked into the King¡¯s quarters, and the architecture was designed to frustrate anyone foolhardy enough to scale the outside to try and break in. It was rather redundant in the grand scheme of things. No burglar or would-be assassin had ever tried to do it.

    But these were strange and worrying times. Thersyn had shied away from sitting next to the windows in the past few weeks because of his abdication. His paranoia was heightened further when reports of Verner Welt¡¯s death reached his ears. He was a hardliner ¨C but there were those in his camp who were even worse, and now they may have taken over.

    ¡°Theodore, I heard from the guards that you left your quarters and went into the gardens yesterday.¡±

    The third eldest son was the only heir in the private dining room with his father.

    ¡°I was becoming irritated, being watched so closely.¡±

    ¡°They are here to protect us.¡±

    ¡°I understand that ¨C but it is not a good environment wherein to enjoy a book.¡±

    Thersyn¡¯s brow creased, revealing the deep-set wrinkles that formed over decades of complicated and stressful rule.

    ¡°Is reading a book for your enjoyment more important than your life?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve always wanted us to stay out of the way. Would you be happy if I were to lock myself into that bedroom and whittle away the years in isolation, waiting for the sad day where my services as third-in-line could be called upon?¡±

    Thersyn frowned, ¡°I do not wish for any such thing.¡±

    ¡°Is this really all we can do? Hide away in this tiny corner of the palace and hope that it all goes away?¡±

    ¡°When I consented to the compromise ¨C it was made with the understanding that the common people shall direct the nation and state according to their own whims.¡±

    ¡°Yet those same ¡®common people¡¯ now intend on restoring the King¡¯s power. Is that not the height of hypocrisy? Should you not tell the people where you stand and put an end to this?¡±

    In truth, there was nothing common about them. They were all wealthy, powerful, or from influential families who could pull strings from behind the scenes.

    Thersyn closed his eyes, ¡°The power is vested in the people, and those people have disconnected the authority of the crown from the birth right of my heirs. Ekkehard is a King chosen by the ¡®common people.¡¯ My part in this affair was over from the very second that Welt launched his odious scheme. My interference now will change nothing.¡±

    ¡°What if they feel like they need a reason to fight?¡± Theodore questioned.

    ¡°I¡¯ve learned many lessons in my years, Theodore. The first among them was that men and women need no reason to fight. They have their goals and outcomes, and their visions for the future, and all of the justifications are merely an exercise in writing the history books that will follow.¡±

    Weary eyes peered from sunken lids and bore into Theodore¡¯s.

    ¡°They need no reason at all. No reason! Their friends and families will have their blood drawn, and that will become all the reason they need to fight until they¡¯re nought but dust and bones. It¡¯s only when the fighting ceases for a halting moment that the guilt truly settles in.¡±

    And beyond that ¨C Thersyn was under no mistaken impressions about who would be facing down Welt¡¯s cabal in such a scenario. They were not monarchists all, but a ragtag collective of Republicans, Socialists, Liberals, Intelligentsia and anti-crown Conservatives. They would not fight back and restore his place on the throne. They were more liable to be rid of the entire arrangement if they were in the position to do so.

    Welt decided to make a risky play. He was toying with the entire institution of the crown through his actions and giving them good cause to abolish it completely. He was very assured of his own victory. There was no other explanation for what he was trying to do.

    ¡°I¡¯m worried about you,¡± Thersyn said in an attempt to get back to the point, ¡°At least allow the guards to keep watch if you want to leave.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you order them to keep me inside?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d sooner lop off my head than order the Guard to enter an altercation with my son.¡±

    Thersyn trusted them with his life, but his son¡¯s safety was worth even more than that to him. They were incredibly professional and would never willingly put him or his family in harm¡¯s way, but even the risk of an accidental injury kept him from taking drastic action like that.

    From where Theodore stood though ¨C it felt as if Thersyn wasn¡¯t being harsh enough. If there was an active threat to their safety, why was he not putting his foot down even harder? Would he have done the same for his older brothers, who were more likely to inherit the throne upon his death?

    No. He wouldn¡¯t. Thersyn would have them put under lock and key, with ten guards on every door to keep people out, and all of the food and water they needed would be pushed through a slot in the door after being taste-tested by ten different people.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll ask two guards to come with me next time. I don¡¯t want to stay cooped up in here for the next month.¡±

    Theodore stood from the dining table and left without another word. His mind was awash with a million conflicting thoughts. He was upset and glad for his Father¡¯s decision in different ways. It was merely a microcosm of everything that had happened to him since he was old enough to understand his role. The problem was with him.

    He knew that one day he would have to choose a course and stick with it. As he was now he could only get angry about his position, while being simultaneously free to wander his own path without the looming threat of being elevated as King. Burying himself in reading was not getting him any closer to a resolution.

    For now, he was nothing but a spare - and that wouldn¡¯t change until he acted.

 Chapter 169

    I snooped around near the scene of our fight with Farnham to try and eavesdrop on what the guards were saying to little success. The only information I gleaned from the endeavour was further confirmation that the on-site post office had been temporarily closed up while they investigated how a suspect package slipped through.

    They were evidently screened when they arrived at the palace. If they had the security protocols I expected them to, then the people working at the palace as servants would be told to bring everything they could possibly need during the stay ¨C with some headroom in case they had to remain on duty for a little longer.

    The head butler and maid were responsible for checking their luggage when they arrived for any contraband. All other packages and deliveries went to the post office. Normally they would be opened and inspected before being delivered to the recipient by an attendant.

    But a lot of the people at the palace and other large noble estates valued their privacy. They could issue a ¡®no-open¡¯ missive to the office to keep their grubby hands out of whatever they had purchased. This was seen as secure enough because they would have purchased it themselves and not accepted it from a stranger.

    It was very rare that a family not named Van Walser implemented extensive measures like these, some paranoid sorts did copy their operation to the letter. In the good old days, there were a lot of assassination plots executed through the use of insiders bringing deadly items and weapons onto the grounds.

    With more political power being vested in parliament and the judiciary those kinds of incidents saw a steep decline. There was less political wrangling performed between noble families ¨C and the methods of their warfare were newspapers and ballot boxes, not poison and sharp objects.

    My line of thought was simple enough. There was a high-ranking insider in the palace who wanted Thersyn dead for whatever reason. The motive was helpful in discerning their identity, but it was too broad for me to use as a basis for my search. They issued a ¡®no-open¡¯ order on the packages that Farnham brought through, who himself was disguised as an attendant. To do that he would need to know the exact time and place, and other key information to get the uniform and pretend to be a new employee.

    Was Farnham the one who was meant to execute the killing? He wouldn¡¯t be able to get through into the inner sanctum where Thersyn was hiding. He was too green to be trusted with that ¨C and someone within the inner bowels of the palace would have to invite him inside to get past the guards.

    And then he had to worry about those guards as well. Farnham was a professional, but he was a crook who worked under Marco Fisichella for a reason. He didn¡¯t have the chops or the talent to pull off some of the daring shit that Marco did on a regular basis.

    I was constrained by the appointments for the marriage interview process. I retreated from my spying position and headed into the reception room where the last of the suitors were waiting.

    The final six were Felix, Conrad, Otto, Louis, Anton and Ludwig.

    Three competitors had gotten cold feet after the last round in the garden. While they were desperate to score a high-level marriage with a notable lady, the pressure in following through on that goal had clearly gotten to them, and they had humbly submitted their resignations from the running. What I was left with were the boastful, the foolhardy, and the scarcely tolerable.

    In terms of where they ¡®ranked¡¯ in the Van Walser hierarchy ¨C I had no earthly idea. If there was one thing the royal family was good at, it was pumping out enough babies to have an entire family forest, never mind a family tree. There were hundreds of smaller family units intertwined into the greater whole.

    When these branch houses formed they intended to hold on to every small drop of royal blood they possessed to maintain a level of relevance in the noble sphere. Now that the Van Walser¡¯s grip on power in the nation was waning both politically and socially, they were scrambling to marry off their worthless kids before the hammer came down and the good times ended.

    ¡°I should warn all of you right now! This contest is nothing but a mere formality before my inevitable victory!¡± Felix boasted.

    Conrad shot up from his seat and scowled furiously, ¡°One should not count their chickens before they hatch, Felix.¡±

    ¡°And what do you know about raising livestock? You haven¡¯t worked a single day in your entire life!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a figure of speech!¡±

    ¡°Well in that case ¨C those eggs have already hatched right before my very eyes. What else is there to say? I leave my room late last night and witness a befuddled Maria loitering outside of my chambers!¡±

    There was a collective gasp of shock that spread around the room. How scandalous.

    ¡°What a load of tripe! I¡¯ve had quite enough of your inane fantasies.¡±

    Felix grinned and crossed his arms confidently, ¡°It is nothing but the pure, unfiltered truth ¨C as white and undriven as the fresh winter snow! There she was, standing longingly and gazing through the windows into the garden, undoubtedly imagining the future we¡¯re sure to share together once I win this competition.¡±

    Every pair of eyes turned onto me. I remained stoic ¨C simply shaking my head in a frank rejection of the tale that Felix was weaving in the depths of his delusion. They all thought the same thing. I didn¡¯t know where any of their rooms were to start with, so how could I have sought him out for a late-night rendezvous?

    ¡°I get it. You¡¯re getting ahead of yourself. That¡¯s the very definition of counting one¡¯s eggs before they hatch! Maria was simply taking a late-night stroll through the palace halls. My Mother likes to do that too, from time to time.¡±

    The other boys leapt onto his explanation like a pack of starving lions and murmured in agreement. None of them were going to entertain the thought of me already having made my decision when they were still in the running. This was a completely different Fenix to the one I dealt with the prior day. His head had inflated as a hot-air balloon would, and now he was sounding increasingly like the other competitors who wanted to be on top no matter how badly they came off having done so.

    ¡°We have a word for that. It¡¯s called denial! It was a fated meeting. Not only did the stars align so that we could meet then and there, but my lucky colour came up in the morning newspaper today! My victory is pretty much assured.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t.

    I clapped my hands together and ended the debate. The other boys quickly shot back to their seats and made sure they were presentable, while Felix remained standing for a moment in a pathetic attempt to appear as the bigger man in the aftermath. He slowly drifted back to his spot in the circle and sat down again.

    ¡°I should make all of you aware that it is impossible for me to close my eyes and ears to your words and behaviour when we are outside of this room. This is a personal decision I am making ¨C and I will consider all of the factors when making it.¡±

    Felix¡¯s expression changed from smug glee to extreme worry in an instant. He¡¯d only gone and done it again. The urge to rub all of their faces in it was too strong for him to resist. I got the impression that he very rarely had a chance to be the one issuing those boasts.

    ¡°Hm. I see that we¡¯ve lost even more competitors than last time. I hope I¡¯m not too intimidating a presence for you.¡±

    A chorus of ¡®no¡¯s¡¯ and ¡®surely not¡¯ came from the remaining suitors as they scrambled to showcase their confidence and willingness to continue. I was fully committed to the Maria Walston-Carter act while at the palace. I was cold, calculating, stern and a touch intimidating. Not the best mixture for finding a husband ¨C but it was good for keeping people away from me at the academy and at home.

    ¡°I thought we would have to perform another large round of discussions to reduce the group further ¨C but we can skip that stage of the proceedings and move on to the next.¡±

    A hand rose up.

    ¡°Yes, Anton?¡±

    ¡°Forgive me for being forward in asking this, but this is a rather unusual arrangement. None of the young ladies who¡¯ve visited the palace have been this thorough before. Is there a reason why we have to go through all of this?¡±

    I leaned against the sofa in front of me and smiled, ¡°I¡¯m a very particular person. There¡¯s also the fact that this marriage is meant to be permanent. It would do us no good to make a hasty choice and end up back where we started.¡±

    Anton nodded, ¡°Their parents usually push them to make a quick decision too...¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. My father takes a liberal approach to the matter. He wants me to be happy with the choice, and he sees no reason to rush at the moment. Does that answer your question?¡±

    Anton was more impatient than the others - and there was some stiff competition on that front. The simple fact that I hadn¡¯t picked the prettiest face from the crowd and declared the interviews over within an hour of arrival put him on edge. I couldn¡¯t do that because that would mean leaving the palace before I figured out what Sloan was planning.

    I had to walk the tightrope here and now. If they felt that I was screwing them around for no reason, they would withdraw like the others and scupper my chances completely. I needed to give them a feeling of meaningful progression while stalling them for as long as possible, and maybe afterwards I could go outside and push some water uphill.

    ¡°Mister Fleur isn¡¯t here with us for the time being ¨C so I would like to ask you some candid questions that he would not normally allow. May I ask for a truthful answer, no matter how distasteful?¡±

    They all sat up straight in their chairs and awaited my ground-breaking inquiry.

    ¡°What do you dislike about me?¡±

    I pointed to Felix.

    There was a long pause. The boys glanced at one another in confusion, trying to formulate an answer to the challenge I was offering. Was it a trick? Could they even think of an answer that wasn¡¯t grossly offensive and spoilt their chances of winning? Those were the types of worries I wanted to implant into their minds.

    Felix almost broke out into a nervous sweat, ¡°Something I dislike? Surely you understand that it¡¯s a challenging question to answer.¡±

    ¡°Yes ¨C that¡¯s why I asked. I have thick skin. It can be whatever you please.¡±

    He agonized over it for a while longer before swallowing his pride and coming out with an honest answer, ¡°I... I think you have a very sharp glare. Sometimes I feel that you¡¯re getting cross with me, even when you are not.¡±

    The tension was palpable. Felix covered his face with one hand and peered between the gaps in his fingers like a child watching a horror movie. I didn¡¯t offer him a clear response. That would come once I had my answers from the rest of them.

    My finger turned to the right, ¡°Conrad.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re too cute. You look like a doll. It makes me nervous.¡±

    On it went; ¡°Otto.¡±

    ¡°I got the impression that you weren¡¯t listening to me during our conversation in the garden.¡±

    ¡°Louis.¡±

    ¡°I prefer girls with light hair.¡±

    ¡°Anton.¡±

    ¡°Your hobbies are a little strange. I¡¯ve never met a girl who loves competitive shooting before.¡±

    ¡°Ludwig.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any complaints at all! You¡¯re as lovely as a blooming flower, your intelligence and good humour are a beacon atop a foggy marsh.¡±

    He was the only one who didn¡¯t catch on to what I was doing. This was no trick question ¨C I wanted to hear an honest answer from each of them so that they could demonstrate that they weren¡¯t simply hopeless kiss-asses.

    ¡°Interesting. Very interesting,¡± I mused.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of this?¡± Ludwig fretted, ¡°And how boorish! Surely you all could hold your tongues for the sake of the lady¡¯s feelings!¡±

    I sighed, ¡°I¡¯m not perfect, Ludwig. The point of the question was for me to gauge your honesty, and your readiness to engage in a relationship with a young lady. Surely you don¡¯t foresee a future where I sit in silence for years and years? The least tolerable type of company I can imagine is company which adopts a fa?ade from dawn till dusk.¡±

    ¡°I... don¡¯t understand your meaning.¡±

    ¡°I would prefer a husband who is honest, rather than one who mindlessly attempts to placate me. I have enough of those people surrounding me at the academy already, and that is more than I am willing to bear. I already knew that each one of you had an aspect of my personality that you could not agree with. There is no such thing as the ideal partner, after all. Ludwig ¨C would you be so kind as to correct your answer for me?¡±

    He chewed on his bottom lip and considered the question again, having not come up with an answer to conceal before praising me the first time around. There was something nagging at him that he was struggling to put into words that I could comprehend.

    ¡°You are very forceful. I sometimes find myself paralyzed when you propose questions like these. It is difficult to navigate your words during a conversation. It¡¯s exhausting.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    I gave the group a moment to breathe after that near-death experience. Fleur would have blown a gasket if he overheard any of that. He was interested in enforcing the usual process and rules throughout the process. I was here to get in his way and keep this misery train steaming along.

    ¡°I will not offer my critiques in response. Honesty was all I wanted to see, not a contest of bruised egos. If you are sitting here now, you¡¯re ready and willing to overlook or accept those aspects about me. Is that right?¡±

    They all nodded, unwilling to give up when they were so close to the end. In reality, they were nowhere near, because I wasn¡¯t going to let this end if I could get away with doing so.

    ¡°With a family as wealthy and influential as ours, it is inevitable that you will face demands to take decisive action. The last person who should be in charge in those moments is a ¡®yes man,¡¯ who is too afraid of offending others to do what is needed.¡±

    Before I could continue though, Fleur knocked on the door and poked his head through the crack.

    ¡°Lady Maria, may I speak with you for a second?¡±

    I stepped away and followed him to the outside hallway, moving outside of earshot so that the boys didn¡¯t listen to what we were talking about.

    ¡°Is something amiss?¡±

    ¡°A lot of things ¨C but this particular subject concerns you. The Royal Guard has communicated to me that the intruder from yesterday has spoken at length with them during their interrogation, and he made several odd claims in an attempt to put aside his guilt in the matter.¡±

    ¡°Such as?¡±

    Fleur seemed at odds with the idea of telling me what was said, but he pushed ahead and delivered the news regardless of his personal feelings.

    ¡°Firstly ¨C he claimed to know you, how a low-rent criminal such as him would become associated with you is a complete mystery to us, and his tall tale about working with you is ludicrous on the face of it!¡±

    He must have dropped my name and tried to put them off the scent by making allegations about me. I needed to think quickly and make them discard that little clue in his behaviour. There was no reason for him to know my name that was flattering to my position.

    ¡°That¡¯s concerning. Beyond his flailing allegations to wash his hands of his guilt, it appears that he possesses a source of insider information.¡±

    Fleur stroked his chin in thought, ¡°That was their conclusion too. He proceeded to go even further, accusing you and Mister Franklin of being the ones responsible for knocking him unconscious. While the state of the scene is confounding, it defies belief to imagine that you were personally responsible for downing him.¡±

    ¡°All of that, and he did not profess to the plan they seek to execute within these walls,¡± I murmured, ¡°Surely if he sought mercy ¨C he would offer a more convincing series of claims than that.¡±

    ¡°They questioned him for some time. He will remain in custody until the Guard are confident that they are able to transfer him to a prison cell in the city, from which he can stand trial for his involvement. Trespassing onto the grounds is already a grave criminal offence, but if he¡¯s found to have contributed to a violent plot, then decades of imprisonment is the least he can expect.¡±

    I was in the clear for the moment. Farnham had nothing to offer them to prove his story about me, and even if he could prove it that would not mean I would be accused of assisting him. We were the ones who captured him, hardly what I¡¯d do if I was helping out. His only solace would be to sell out his conspirators.

    But they had that eventuality all tied up and accounted for. Farnham was talking about me because they withheld their identities from him. These failsafe measures meant that no single member of the plot could cause it to collapse by selling out the others.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep my eyes peeled for anything suspicious. Goddess save me, it seems that I can¡¯t go anywhere these days without being in the proximity of harrowing scenes of violence.¡±

    ¡°A sad indictment of the times we live in,¡± Fleur nodded, ¡°I highly doubt that even a well-considered plot could succeed in harming any of the royal family. The Royal Guard are always on high alert, and this infiltrator has meant they¡¯ve tightened measures even further. There is no entry or exit into their chambers that is not being observed.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt that for one second!¡±

    ¡°Very good. I¡¯ll communicate to them that we won¡¯t entertain any more of his lies about the incident that led to his capture, but I¡¯m mainly here to check in on how the courtship is going.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going well. We had just started the day with a small question and answer session.¡±

    ¡°I see. May I inquire as to what the contents of those questions were?¡±

    They were going to snitch on me if I let them control the narrative. I bit the bullet and let him know instead of letting them give a false impression of the conversation.

    ¡°I asked each of them to offer a single critique about me. My personality, my appearance, my manners, my behaviour and my tone of speech.¡±

    Fleur was taken aback, ¡°A critique? Dare I say that you are the very ideal of what a young noble lady should be like.¡±

    ¡°You are free to feel that way, Mister Fleur. The point of the question was not to curry insults or trick them into saying distasteful words. My father always said that the first brick to be laid in a relationship¡¯s foundation was communication. The only thing they had to do to pass was offer that critique.¡±

    I had told Fleur that I was a ¡®picky¡¯ customer before, but this was the first time he was starting to get a full picture of what I meant when I said that. This process was going to be long, precise, and somewhat subjective. I was not here to pick the first boy who caught my fancy and sign the contract without thinking twice about it.

    ¡°Hm. That is a very mature way to go about it. I suppose for an important choice, it makes good sense to take your time and be thorough in your analysis.¡±

    Why did everyone find it so strange? Because a majority of these bachelor assemblies didn¡¯t permit the girl to have any say in the matter from the start. Either their parents would select after observing the interviews, or all but one suitor would drop out and the expectation was that they would agree to marry them. I could thank my family¡¯s clout for allowing me to play games with the system and not raise too many eyebrows in the process.

    I was also the one holding the cards in this scenario. They were going to benefit more from marrying me than I would from marrying them. This was probably the only time a matrilineal marriage had ever been proposed to the Van Walser family. I was shocked that they agreed to go along with ¨C a plain demonstration of how desperate some of the branch families were to get their footing in the new, post-monarchy Walser.

    ¡°Please allow me to accompany you for the rest of the day. I¡¯ve been discharged from organizing the response for the moment.¡±

    ¡°Of course, by all means.¡±

    Fleur followed me back to the room. I pushed the door open and caught a brief glimpse of Otto and Conrad sitting down on their chairs in a hurry. They were eavesdropping on us through the door, or trying to.

    ¡°I hope you weren¡¯t all demoralized by a passing Theodore while I was gone,¡± I joked.

    It bombed. None of them laughed. If anything, they took it as a serious concern given the flood of negative responses I received. Fleur scratched the bridge of his nose in astonishment at how little common sense this flock of single nobles possessed. I silently struck ¡®humour¡¯ from my list of acceptable approaches.

    ¡°Would you like to take the lead, Mister Fleur?¡±

    ¡°Thank you, now ¨C it¡¯s time for us all to engage in some good sport.¡±

    Unfortunately for him, there were no good sports amongst his audience...

 Chapter 170

    The situation in the city had gone from bad to worse. The flagrant attack on the protestors by Sloan¡¯s thugs had emboldened groups of monarchists in launching their own assaults on those they perceived as standing against the new order. Frankfort and Veronica were forced to try and stem the tide of violence, whilst evading WISA officers who were always on watch for their presence.

    Samantha took a different approach.

    She couldn¡¯t stand to sit on her butt and let people get hurt for no good reason. She started leaving the safehouse and visiting sites where fights had broken out, using her magic to heal the seriously injured using what knowledge she possessed about medicine and her magic.

    She saw a lot of bloodied faces, split heads, broken noses and smashed cheekbones. It was a sobering sight. Luckily the fights weren¡¯t escalating into the use of firearms yet. They were afraid to be the ones who fired the first fatal shot. The judgement of history would not be kind to them if they did.

    A lot of people were starting to recognize her and her good deeds. They would approach her once she arrived and quickly whisk her away to where the wounded were being kept protected from further reprisals. Young and old ¨C there was no real pattern to the chaos she witnessed.

    ¡®Am I ready for this?¡¯ she wondered. Maria was clear-eyed about what Welt and Sloan¡¯s plan would mean for the nation as a whole. Communities would turn on one another and submit themselves to this kind of anarchy. Friends and family divided by a conflict that she couldn¡¯t understand or accept.

    Her distress was clear to her friends. None of them could offer any words of comfort. There was a tension in the air that hung over their necks like the blade of a guillotine. Could they manage the situation before Maria came back from her mission? What could they possibly hope to do with their lack of combat power?

    Samantha watched through one of the foggy windows at the group of protestors shuffling past the warehouse that morning. Veronica was sitting at the back of the room with a cup of tea in one hand and a pistol in the other. Veronica was still in a bad mood about what Maria revealed to her, so there was little discussion between her and the others.

    ¡°How long do you think she¡¯ll be gone?¡±

    Veronica glanced at her, ¡°Why are you asking me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m making small talk. My dad always tells me to be a good neighbour to everyone I meet.¡±

    ¡°Even the ones who try to murder you?¡±

    ¡°No. Not those sorts of people.¡±

    Veronica put the gun down and walked over to where Samantha was sitting.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been working yourself ragged these past few days. Are your magic reserves holding up well?¡±

    ¡°Well enough. It¡¯s not as if I¡¯m using it for anything else at the moment, so it¡¯s good to go out there and train, and make sure that people aren¡¯t going home covered in blood and stitches.¡±

    Maria had gone the extra mile to enhance her magic by making a pair of catalytic gauntlets. She¡¯d also absorbed some of the magical energy from the blood vials by holding onto the glass tubes. It was much less efficient than injecting it into the bloodstream ¨C but it was also safe. The blood was dried up now, so they couldn¡¯t rely on the watch to solve all of their problems.

    ¡°You said it¡¯s like a muscle before.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. The more you use it, the more energy you can store.¡±

    Samantha knew full well that she and Maria were a special class of mage. At Grade Five they could cast spells of a potency and frequency that eclipsed all of the grades beneath them. Even so, they didn¡¯t possess a fraction of the immense magical power contained by the creatures from the Veil.

    It was frustrating how exhausted she felt after helping so few people. It put into perspective that perhaps humans were not meant to wield these powers in such a manner. They were merely ants to those beasts. They had been given a gift that they had no idea of how to utilise to its full extent.

    Samantha turned away from the window, ¡°You¡¯re worried about Maria again.¡±

    ¡°Is it that obvious? Not her physical safety, mind you, I don¡¯t think an apocalyptic event could kill that girl.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t argue with that. It¡¯s just that I thought...¡±

    ¡°That I wouldn¡¯t, knowing what I do?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Veronica sighed, ¡°You¡¯re a mature girl, you know that these things aren¡¯t so easy or straightforward to explain. She¡¯s my daughter, but also not my daughter. I can¡¯t detach myself from the sacrifices I made and the emotions I felt when giving birth to her.¡±

    ¡°I went through the same process. I thought I understood Maria until I didn¡¯t. Dad always said I was good at picking out good company, but that was the first time I ever doubted it.¡±

    ¡°Because she killed a lot of people?¡±

    ¡°I already found out about that before her real identity. I told myself that she was doing it all for a good reason. She¡¯s ruthless when you get down to it, like a rabid churnon stalking the fields.¡±

    ¡°Never seen one.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t like being around people,¡± Samantha chuckled, ¡°Sounds like Maria to me.¡±

    Veronica pulled a chair towards the window and sat next to the country girl. She was a bit of a titan in terms of stature and presence. They must have been feeding her well back on the farm where she lived.

    ¡°This is chaos. How the bloody hell are we going to fix this?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t, not fully. I¡¯ve been shot, stabbed, got scars all over me. There¡¯s no such thing as a wound that heals perfectly.¡±

    Samantha clutched one of her sleeves and twiddled the fabric back and forth in an anxious spell.

    ¡°When the Civil War ended, I wondered if there¡¯d ever come a day where people could forget about it. Everyone in this country were at each other¡¯s throats. So many of them died in the fighting, and I swore there was no way that they could learn to forgive each other.¡±

    Veronica could recall the exact way she felt. Three days after the Compromise was introduced into parliament and the fighting formally ended, she wandered past a graveyard in the city where dozens and dozens of war-dead were being buried in a large ceremony. The faces of despair and agony the mourners wore made her certain that it was not the end.

    They wanted to move on. They never forgot what happened, but they couldn¡¯t accept facing that kind of terror and loss for a second time. Some became enraged at their lack of will to carry on the fighting ¨C and before she absconded from WISA to hide and deliver Maria, she was tasked with taking them out.

    What they desired most was a return to normalcy. In that way, it was almost as if the war never happened in the first place. The bodies were buried, words were said, and everyone tried to move on as best they could. It was shocking to her. The scale of society¡¯s collective amnesia was beyond her wildest expectations.

    ¡°Did they forgive each other?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they did. It couldn¡¯t go back to the way it was before. Even if on the surface it looked okay, there was still a change underneath the skin. You know what I think? People can¡¯t live without each other. They¡¯re drawn together, like gravity. It¡¯s not the same. It won¡¯t ever be the same, but peace came back to Walser anyway, no matter what I thought.¡±

    ¡°Gravity...¡± Samantha murmured.

    ¡°What Maria said ¨C maybe she thought it¡¯d push everyone away. I¡¯m furious, but I can¡¯t leave her alone. It¡¯s different now, she can¡¯t take it back and pretend it never happened, but I also can¡¯t let it end like this. I might be one of those lunatics who can¡¯t let go, but I sacrificed too much to give up.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯s a good cause in the end. All you have to do is talk with her.¡±

    Veronica chuckled, ¡°You make it sound so simple. I¡¯ve never been much of a talker. That happens when you spend your whole life hiding from people and putting on an act.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing a good job right now.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because it¡¯s easier to speak with a stranger than it is someone you care about.¡±

    Samantha frowned. She¡¯d never thought along those lines. It was a genuinely different perspective on relationships that seemed at complete odds with her own. Samantha would never speak so openly with someone she wasn¡¯t familiar with. She had assumed that Veronica had gotten comfortable enough with her to share.

    That was her fault for being too friendly. Veronica was as cold as they came, and the only glimpses of warmth she offered aimed to comfort who she saw as a group of troubled children. Even when she was around Maria she kept an all-business attitude.

    Samantha found it difficult to imagine what Maria and Veronica¡¯s relationship could be like after all of the chaos was cleared up. Veronica would have to resign her position at WISA somehow and move back to the estate, but what would the new status quo be? Maria, if what she said was true, didn¡¯t need a new mother figure in her life to raise her.

    ¡°Do you want to be there for Maria?¡± Samantha asked, out of the blue.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Be there? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°As a mother.¡±

    Veronica averted her eyes and stared across the street, ¡°I¡¯m no mother of hers. The only thing I¡¯m good for is destroying lives. That¡¯s why I left her with Damian.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s funny. Maria said that too.¡±

    Samantha could not place the emotion that was creeping through her stoic fa?ade. Her brain was ticking over, cogs turning, as she thought about all of the different conversations and moments that built her understanding of who Maria was.

    ¡°Almost those exact words. This is all a punishment to her, for what she did in the past, and what she thinks she¡¯ll do in the future. She wants to leave a piece of herself behind that isn¡¯t built on violence, but she can¡¯t accept that she¡¯ll have the opportunity to do it.¡±

    Veronica¡¯s face softened.

    ¡°Stop trying to rile me up, lass.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not. I think the Goddess chose whoever she was for a reason. Not just because of the skills she possesses, but because of how she connects with you. The Goddess made you mother and daughter in more than name only, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°Give me a break. I left her with him because he was supposed to do a better job than I could! What the hell was the point if the Goddess was just going to turn her... into me...¡±

    Samantha was uneasy, ¡°Nothing¡¯s set in stone. You should both stop worrying so much about the future and do what you want. We could all drop dead from a cardiac arrest tomorrow, but that¡¯s not a reason to give up. We¡¯ve got to live and make the most of the time we have. If you want to be Maria¡¯s mother, if you want to put her on a better path, then you should.¡±

    Veronica scoffed and rolled her eyes, ¡°That¡¯s all well and good ¨C but idealism isn¡¯t a substitute for reality. You know there¡¯s a million and one reasons I can¡¯t walk into Maria¡¯s life and act like a mother, and that¡¯s before I worry about whether she¡¯d accept me.¡±

    Samantha had pushed the issue a step over the line. Veronica got up from her chair and walked away, leaving her alone once more.

    Samantha watched her back as she left. Once she was gone, she stood from her chair and wandered over to the nearest table where various discarded items were left behind. A stack of playing cards, discarded cups and cutlery, and a handful of stray bullets that had yet to be loaded into magazines.

    ¡°Like gravity.¡±

    She closed her eyes and connected with the other side, spreading her magical senses through the room like Miss Jennings had taught her at the academy. There was one fact about ¡®regeneration¡¯ that stuck with her through all of her self-study. She was not creating new tissue and blood cells from thin air ¨C she was merely stitching them back together. It was not a magical watch that could rewind time in a localized place.

    Veronica¡¯s words had unknowingly struck a chord with her. She used two of the empty shell casings, slowly pulling them together into the centre of her field of vision before casting the very same spell she had used to heal dozens and dozens of wounded civilians and protestors.

    There was an inward force. Samantha felt a huge amount of strength and magical energy seep from her body like an open wound, before a blinding flash filled the air and sent her for a loop. Still she persisted. She kept pushing and pushing until there was nowhere else for them to go.

    Samantha opened her eyes and reached out to take what was left.

    Between shaking fingers was a strange object. A combination of the two shells. Not only were they warm to the touch, but the spots where they melded together had taken on an entirely new colouration and texture, like they had undergone a chemical reaction in the blink of an eye.

    ¡°Xenia, why couldn¡¯t you say this outright?¡± she hissed to herself.

    Regeneration? What she truly possessed was something far more dangerous than that...

    <hr>

    Fleur forced us out onto the back lawn where a game of croquet awaited. The boys bickered over who would get the ¡®best¡¯ wooden mallet to play with while I stood on the side and wondered what exactly this dick-measuring contest was supposed to prove. Fleur, despite being the one to propose this game, was already getting frustrated with their ill manners and lack of sportsmanship.

    ¡°Stop fighting over the mallets. They¡¯re all the same.¡±

    Conrad disagreed, ¡°No, they¡¯re not. Otto¡¯s been taking the best one every time we play lately.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just angry because I¡¯m the best at it. It has nothing to do with the bloody mallet I use,¡± Otto replied.

    We were positioned close to the post office by one of the side gates. This was my chance to go snooping around while the boys had an extremely competitive game of croquet in an attempt to impress me. Fleur may have misjudged how much good sportsmanship they were going to demonstrate.

    They lined up and started to play, and I immediately tuned out as each suitor attempted to swoon me with their incredible skills at a noble lawn game that was as out-of-touch as it was immensely tedious. I¡¯d rather play a round of golf than ever have to think about croquet again.

    From their perspective, this was the single most important game of croquet to ever be played across the world. It was directly connected with their chances of winning my hand and marriage and blowing this popsicle stand so they could enjoy the easy life in a wealthy family while escaping the shadow of the royal line. If not becoming the King or landing a plush nepotism-guarded job in government, then this was the next best outcome.

    I kept an eye on the time and waited for around an hour, during which there were no less than three different spats between the boys that almost descended into physical exchanges of flying fists. It was a spectacle alright ¨C and Fleur kept being pulled away to organize other matters around the palace so he wasn¡¯t always there to stop them.

    I sensed my opportunity and decided to move.

    ¡°I¡¯m going for a short break,¡± I declared, ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a short while.¡±

    Nobody could argue with me, or stop me, so I left them to the game and escaped down a narrow pathway near the grass pitch. It was surrounded on both sides by tall bushes and allowed me and Franklin to move unimpeded down the length of the rear garden. It was likely intended for romantic walks between young lovers in the palace, given the quantity of bright flowers and ornate archways.

    ¡°What are we going to do now?¡±

    ¡°I want to take a quick stop at the post office and see if we can find any clues.¡±

    The post office was located near the Eastern wall of the palace interior. There was a long road that led up to it from the outside, with a booth checkpoint next to the wrought-iron gates. A cart would arrive with a bed filled with sacks, be waved through, and dumped into the office to be sorted and checked for harmful substances.

    It was around the size of the average house you would find in the countryside. Two stories, with a squat roof that made it look smaller than it was on the inside. The outside walls were painted an odd light-yellow colour. None of the gardening staff were working at this time of day, so there were fewer witnesses to worry about. I did spy one or two guards waiting by the gate.

    ¡°Wait here. It¡¯ll only take me a second.¡±

    The office itself was left unguarded. That either meant there was nothing of interest to find in there, or someone had screwed up and reallocated the guards without checking first. I snuck over to the door and pulled my lockpick out, quickly working my way through the mechanism and pushing it open.

    All that time learning to lockpick had paid off in spades...

    I used to only use it to break into industrial sites and poorly secured residential buildings, but this was a world where nobody could build a digital lock, and where the padlocks they did use were cheap garbage without any effective anti-tampering features.

    I ducked through the door and closed it behind me. I had to be mindful of the windows that looked into the two-story building on all sides. Someone could easily see my silhouette moving against the light backdrop. There was a musty, papery smell in the air.

    The most important-looking desk was my target. There were only a handful to rifle through. The majority of the floor space was dominated by large shelves, stuffed to bursting with sealed letters and recently delivered packages. I didn¡¯t have time to admire the controlled chaos of the office. They would expect me back at the croquet match soon enough.

    Lucky number three was the desk where I struck gold. There were still pieces of correspondence strewn out across it, including a memo handwritten in ink and sealed with a purple mark. It came from one of the Royal Guard.

    ¡®The commander would like to request a list of every individual who issued a missive to the post office in the past week,¡¯ it read. The rest was dry technicalities about who they should pass the information onto when it was done, and an order to lock the place down so they could investigate. Nobody was getting their mail until the threat was taken care of.

    So, they thought that one of the family on the inside had helped smuggle the packages inside. Farnham took them from the office by social engineering one of the posties into handing them over, presumably by pretending to be under their orders, and then dropped them inside of the palace for the assassin to utilise.

    Farnham could easily squeal on the family member who did it. He would have been given the missive in person, and the guard could have asked them if he was really working for them as a personal attendant. Why hadn¡¯t he? Was it a counterfeit? Did he break into their office and seal the damn letter himself?

    Ambiguity like that was where we revelled. A flat denial from the Van Walser responsible would put a hard stop to any further questions. They could deploy any number of excuses to make the guards second-guess themselves.

    I kept moving through whatever notes I could find. There was a memo-pad underneath the pile which had a list of names. A little cross-referencing with the other documents was enough evidence to me that the manager had written them down, thanks to the handwriting.

    Mila, Matilda, Beatrice and Greta; all women who lived in the palace. No last names were attached, but they were all Van Walsers, so it didn¡¯t matter. I snatched the note and pocketed it, before moving all of the other papers back into position where they were before I arrived. A good memory was always helpful in jobs like these.

    There was no need to push my luck. I ducked back out of the door I came in through and quickly made my way back to where Franklin was waiting.

    ¡°Any news?¡±

    ¡°I have some names. All noble ladies in the palace who¡¯ve issued privacy missives to the postmaster this week. I imagine the Royal Guard will be having some pointed discussions with them about what they brought through.¡±

    Franklin was somewhat happy to have a real lead to follow. He tucked in behind me and we headed back towards the world¡¯s most intense croquet match. I could already hear the raised voices of Otto and Felix before we got close. My interest was piqued when I heard my name mentioned in the fray.

    Franklin and I remained behind the hedgerow and listened in on the argument that was happening on the other side. It didn¡¯t take a genius to infer what they were talking about.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it make sense?¡± Otto postured, ¡°All of this trouble started when Maria arrived. What if she¡¯s secretly a spy working for those assassins?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t make any sense at all!¡± Felix replied furiously, ¡°You are making patterns up out of whole cloth, and expecting all of us to go along with it.¡±

    ¡°She was skulking the corridors of the palace last night. I bet she was looking for a way to break into where the King is sleeping so they can be rid of him and put that idiot Ekkehard in charge of the estate.¡±

    Felix wouldn¡¯t stand for his delusions being commandeered in such a way.

    ¡°Excuse you. Maria was there to have a romantic late-night discussion with the object of her affection, that being me!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re as delusional as a Friedman!¡±

    That was an oblique reference to an old noble family who became synonymous with overconfidence and hubris for a variety of high-profile misdeeds. People liked to say it without knowing the full context of why it became regular nomenclature.

    ¡°Me? Delusional? You¡¯re the one posting these foolish theories about the kind lady being some kind of murderous beast! Your problem is obvious ¨C you¡¯ve always sought to be the one who outsmarts everyone else, yet you are so dedicated to it that you never think through what you say on the off chance that your wild guesses turn out to be correct.¡±

    That reminded me of someone.

    Franklin stared at me and whispered, ¡°You are very talented at causing people to argue, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing it on purpose! Every time I walk into a room there¡¯s a fifty percent chance that at least one person will accuse me of murder, or some other horrible crime, which I wasn¡¯t involved in!¡±

    Nothing could ever go smoothly, could it? Durandia must have been laughing her ass off at me having to deal with this shit every time she deployed me to take care of a pressing matter.

    Otto scoffed, ¡°It¡¯s simple cause and effect. Even a moron can see that much.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the moron. The staff changed over a few days ago! That¡¯s dozens and dozens of new faces. They¡¯re more likely to be a culprit than Lady Maria Walston-Carter.¡±

    That was enough of this circus for my liking. I stepped out of my hiding place and approached the group. Otto and Felix looked terrified, worried that I¡¯d overheard them arguing about his wild accusation of attempted murder. It¡¯s not as if it ruined his chances of winning ¨C none of them were in the running to start with.

    ¡°For what reason do you wear those gaunt, sheet-white faces?¡± I pondered, ¡°I hope the weather hasn¡¯t burdened you with a bout of ill health.¡±

    Otto shook his head so quickly that his neatly combed and styled hair turned into a frizzled mess.

    ¡°Oh, no, no ¨C no such problem here, my good lady. We appreciate your concern.¡±

    ¡°Very well. Would you mind catching me up on the state of your match?¡±

 Chapter 171

    The game continued and tensions were high for a variety of very stupid reasons. Otto had gotten an idea in his head that I was part of the conspiracy seeking to infiltrate the palace, yet he was still participating in the competition because he was more interested in winning the prize than making a moral stand on the matter.

    Conrad was the one winning the game for the time being, but the others were in hot pursuit. It took all of my restraint not to remind them that victory in croquet would not automatically qualify them to take my hand in marriage. That would be like throwing a hand grenade into a fireworks warehouse.

    This game meant everything to them. It was almost inspirational to watch their blood, sweat and tears. Each and every stroke of the mallet was life or death, triumph or humiliation. The original intent of demonstrating some good sportsmanship was long forgotten, replaced with the overwhelming urge to rub the other boys¡¯ faces in it when they made a good play.

    A thought came to mind and I chastised myself for not thinking of it earlier ¨C but it was possible that the women noted by the postmaster were all related to the boys I was stringing along. With that in mind, I decided to change tactics and see if I could figure out who they were. When a gap in the jeering opened up, I stepped in and struck up a conversation.

    ¡°I was wondering how your parents felt about the possibility of marrying me. It¡¯s normal that they would have reservations about a matrilineal arrangement.¡±

    Otto shook his head, ¡°Not at all. My mother was all too eager to see me out of the door. My eldest brother is due to inherit whatever scraps we possess.¡±

    ¡°...Scraps?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve never been interested in building our wealth or prosperity. While being a member of the Van Walser family is enough to enjoy a comfortable life that would make most commoners furious with mad envy ¨C it also means that we are completely dependent on the generosity of the King and the head of house. To be frank, there is little to be inherited in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Still, it would be helpful to meet with them and make a good impression before sealing the deal, as they say. I like to be prepared for every eventuality. Would it be much to ask for their names?¡±

    Amazingly none of them found my request all that strange, or they were so intent on winning the contest that they were willing to do whatever I wanted to suck up to me. Remembering twelve names was a waste of my precious mental resources ¨C so I only kept an ear out for the names from the list I found.

    And what were the chances? Felix¡¯s mother was named Mila, and Otto¡¯s Matilda. That left Greta and Beatrice unaccounted for. Fifty percent wasn¡¯t a bad hit rate considering that it was a total shot in the dark.

    The problem was that they were the least likely suspects by virtue of their current position. Anyone marrying away their eligible sons in a matrilineal scramble was simply nowhere near the throne. They stood to gain next to nothing unless they held a personal or ideological grudge against Thersyn for whatever reason.

    Felix leaned into my ear, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend seeing my mother at the moment. For whatever reason she seems to be in a short-tempered kind of mood.¡±

    ¡°How short-tempered?¡±

    ¡°She has been snapping at everyone, and it doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re here to marry one of us ¨C she has no patience or care for her manners.¡±

    ¡°It will take a great deal more than poor manners to offend me. Besides, the behaviour of another will not affect my final choice in a significant way. I merely wish to extend my greetings to my potential in-laws.¡±

    It also sounded somewhat suspect that she was having such a dramatic change in behaviour. It could have been due to the unwelcome news that Farnham had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He was threatening the success of their operation even if he didn¡¯t know a single piece of useful information about it. Security was going to be a lot tighter because of his capture.

    Otto didn¡¯t have a similar observation about his mother, and I couldn¡¯t poke him for more details without arousing unwanted hostility from the others. Every tiny move I made was being closely scrutinized by them for signs of my wavering affection. Picking one of them over the others would cause a lengthy and boisterous argument to break out.

    Felix leant against the shaft of the mallet, ¡°How are your parents, Lady Maria?¡±

    ¡°Hm. My father is always very busy doing this and that, as you might imagine, but he¡¯s a very friendly man, even if he can be stuck in his ways from time to time. My mother isn¡¯t at the estate.¡±

    The impression that Felix and the others took away from that was that she was separated from my father. ¡®Divorce¡¯ wasn¡¯t a religiously-charged sin in this world, but there were cultural and social barriers designed to keep couples together even if the partnership was an unhappy one. The truth was more bizarre than that.

    My answer also left just enough ambiguity that I could walk it back at a later date. Maybe I was avoiding the reality that she was dead, or perhaps I meant it literally in that she was too busy to live at the manor with us. Nobody would drill into my statement any further, writing it off as a misunderstanding or some other mundanity.

    ¡°And she¡¯s...¡± Felix intoned, purposefully avoiding putting a clear tense to his question.

    ¡°She¡¯s the mirror image of me with shorter hair and extra wrinkles. A brusque personality, stern, intimidating, need I go on?¡±

    They got the picture loud and clear. Again, I danced around confirming whether she was alive or dead or merely separated from the family. I didn¡¯t know what she was planning on doing once all of his chaos ended. Adjusting to a quiet life of noble comfort sounded like the last thing she¡¯d do. I wondered if she would even survive to see the end of this story that Durandia silently wrote in the background. She would value my survival above all else, even knowing what she did about my origins.

    The discussion came to an abrupt end when Anton hit an incredible shot, carefully driving the ball a long distance between an angled wicket.

    ¡°What a load of rubbish, there¡¯s no way you hit that!¡± Otto complained.

    All thoughts about getting a leg up on the competition through parental permission were dashed in an instant, with the boys descending back into a winding spat about who was really in the lead, with all of them having their personal interpretation of the rules in what was normally a simple lawn game. Fleur leaving had rendered the whole exercise pointless.

    At least it let me sneak into the post office. I counted my blessings when they came.

    The only other conclusion I could reach from the croquet competition was that Fleur was less competent than I pegged him for. No reasonable man trying to sell these bachelors to a potential partner would permit them to have such a petulant argument over who was winning at croquet. He didn¡¯t even consider the possibility that I would find this entire process tedious to the extreme.

    Either he didn¡¯t think this through before planning it, or he didn¡¯t care. He was too busy dealing with all of the security problems around the palace to worry about a marriage interview that he viewed as doomed to fail. These were the bottom of the proverbial barrel. A collection of egotists and ingrates whose parents couldn¡¯t wait to be rid of them.

    Otto claimed victory in the end ¨C even if it was hotly contested by the others for a variety of reasons. I was still trying to come up with a good way to meet their parents on short notice without coming off as a weirdo. Otto was going to be a problem if he kept up with his conspiracy theory about me working with the assassin.

    I tried to put the screws on him while they cleaned up the mess.

    ¡°Are you fully devoted to this competition, Otto?¡± I inquired.

    ¡°Why? What does that mean?¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°You seemed rather perturbed when I returned from my brief absence. It may be invasive of me to say, but the tone of your speech and the manner of your behaviour changed substantially. I was wondering if the others were trying to dissuade you from proceeding.¡±

    Otto was relieved that my choice of topic was not his bold declaration about my involvement in the murder plot. I could see his shoulders slacken as the tension drained out of him, but he wasn¡¯t out of the woods yet. He needed to delicately navigate the situation without giving anything away.

    ¡°I won¡¯t be discouraged so easily by my rivals.¡±

    It sounded less convincing than he would have liked. In his eyes, even a momentary display of wavering confidence could doom his attempts to win the competition. If not me, then the others would descend on him like a pack of buzzards and rip him to shreds.

    I was far worse than them.

    Otto didn¡¯t know that. He laboured blissfully unaware of what was happening behind the curtain. I had to nudge him away from the cliff-edge of suspicion and into a headspace where I could arrange a meeting with his mother, or at least get some details about where I could find her within the palace. That demanded an excuse. I could potentially ask Fleur about where to meet them under the pretence of making introductions to future in-laws...

    ¡°Do you consider yourself a perceptive person?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Yes. I spend a lot of time studying people¡¯s faces ¨C as odd as that sounds.¡±

    ¡°Hm. If there¡¯s one skill that the nobility has mastered, it¡¯s the art of lying. I can¡¯t imagine it being useful.¡±

    ¡°You would be surprised. There are very few who can hide their emotions during a trying time. It¡¯s the twitch of their upper lip, the crease of their brow, and the focus of their gaze. How we act can speak more vividly and clearly than words could ever hope to.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell what I¡¯m thinking?¡±

    I stared at Otto, allowing the silence to stretch on and discomfort him before delivering my verdict.

    ¡°You have the look of a boy who regrets something. It¡¯s like when my father sneaks into the kitchen and steals from the larder under the head chef¡¯s nose...¡±

    The delivery of my assessment was blunted by a humorous anecdote about my own circumstances, and no direct accusations about what that guilt was caused by. Otto tried to keep a lid on it ¨C but it was clearly stressing him out that I was flying so close to the sun.

    ¡°...It¡¯s not unique to you. Frankly, I disagree with your assessment. It¡¯s easy to understand what motivates people. They can¡¯t hide it on their faces, and I¡¯m not one to fall for false statements regardless.¡±

    ¡°You think they¡¯re all bad liars?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I do.¡±

    Otto wasn¡¯t sure what else to say in the face of such a firm statement. I wasn¡¯t going to argue with him about it. It was all down to our personal experiences and interpretations. It was easier for a young man to be misled than someone like me. I¡¯d lived a life of deception for decades.

    The other boys were done putting away the gear and clearing the lawn. At that moment Theodore emerged from the romantic pathway and approached the group with a frown.

    ¡°Good morning, everyone.¡±

    ¡°Hello, Theodore. Is something wrong?¡± Otto asked.

    Theodore toyed with the book held in his hands, ¡°Have any of you noticed a strange smell lately?¡±

    ¡°A smell? What kind of smell?¡±

    ¡°I was trying to read my book at the bottom of the gardens ¨C but there was an utterly foul odour emanating from somewhere nearby. I tried to find where it was coming from but had no success.¡±

    Otto shook his head; ¡°I haven¡¯t noticed any bad smells.¡±

    ¡°Neither have I,¡± I added. None of the others spoke up in agreement.

    ¡°Are you sure it wasn¡¯t the gardeners laying out some compost or fertilizer?¡± Otto suggested.

    Theodore dismissed the idea, ¡°It isn¡¯t the right time for that sort of garden work. It was a much more pungent smell than simple excrement or fertilizer. Let me think. I suppose the word I would use is ¡®animalistic.¡¯ Like I was burying my nose into the coat of a stinking beast. It¡¯s certainly hard to miss once it catches your nose...¡±

    My first thought was of a rotting corpse ¨C but that felt too out of left field to be a good answer. Bodies left in the open were easy to find, and Theodore was confident that he explored the area in search of the source with a good level of coverage.

    Felix shrugged it off, ¡°Perhaps one of the sewers is getting clogged.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe they run under this side of the garden, but there¡¯s nothing I can do but inform the groundskeeper about the issue.¡±

    Theodore bowed his head respectfully and walked back towards the palace.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why he asked us. I never go that far into the garden,¡± Felix pondered.

    Fleur arrived back on the scene with a flustered shade of red on his cheeks, disappointed to find that he was too late to officiate the rest of the contest.

    ¡°Apologies. My presence was demanded at a staff meeting. Theodore looked rather disconcerted. Is something wrong?¡±

    ¡°He was complaining about a strange smell at the bottom of the gardens,¡± I revealed, ¡°It must have spoiled his reading.¡±

    ¡°Hm. A strange smell? I¡¯ll have to inform the gardeners and see that it¡¯s sorted.¡±

    With the suitors wrangled up and the game over ¨C we headed back towards the palace ourselves to enjoy a midday meal and prepare for the afternoon session. I¡¯d been here for two days but it felt like so much longer. I couldn¡¯t wait to solve this problem and be out of the palace, free from the meddling grip of the royal family and their desperate bushel of bachelors.

    Franklin¡¯s presence by my side warded away the boys when I was trying to eat and contemplate my choice. Their eagerness was curtailed by an undercurrent of anxiety that the bravado could not mask. They stared at me ¨C minds racing while they imagined the potential paths to victory that were open to them.

    If I eliminated everyone but Otto and Felix, I could more realistically ask to meet their parents to discuss a potential arrangement. It was a risky manoeuvre. That would shorten the shelf-life of the competition significantly. I¡¯d have to put all of my cards on the table and hope that I was close enough to the assassin to stop them before we left.

    This was what working my old job was always like, and to some extent, it was true of all the incidents I became involved in thanks to Durandia. It was all about taking calculated risks. If I failed ¨C it would be up to the Royal Guard to finish the job and keep the killers from getting to Thersyn. Sloan might have sent his juiced mages to do the hit, and it was doubtful in my opinion that they could stop them.

    ¡°Washroom.¡±

    With that simple command, Franklin remained at the table while I left to go and relieve myself. The nearest bathroom was on the next floor up. I ascended the stairs and took a left, walking past an open window that was being used to air out the corridor by the maids.

    At least that was the intention.

    I stopped in my tracks and sniffed the air. There was a foul, foul smell wafting through the window and into the building. It was like a mixture of dog piss and a rotting dead body. I pinched my nose and followed the source, looking through the bottom of the pane and staring at the ledge below.

    There were shards of a glass bottle down there. I opened it wider and leaned in for a closer inspection, but I couldn¡¯t reach it from where I was. It must have been dropped through the window and onto the top of the stonework. Who the hell was throwing stink bombs around the palace?

    It was the very same smell that Theodore was complaining about earlier. It wasn¡¯t only at the bottom end of the garden. The person responsible had deployed them in several places around the property for seemingly no good reason. I closed the window and quickly headed to the bathroom so I could escape the raw stench of whatever it was supposed to be.

    Normally I would have ignored this and moved on ¨C but it didn¡¯t sit right with me. I couldn¡¯t ignore a lead because it felt juvenile or far-fetched. Far-fetched was the best way to describe most of everything that had happened to me since my death. I used the toilet and washed my hands whilst staring at my reflection in the gilded mirror.

    I held my nose both physically and figuratively. The smell was so powerful that it crept through my defences and tickled the back of my nostrils regardless. I checked the shattered bottle again, but there were no markings on the outside to help me with my investigation. There was a cork top and some moisture where the bottle had shattered.

    It was a cool day. The fluid, which I assumed was the source of the smell, wouldn¡¯t dry for some time yet. They could have thrown it down there at any time within the past few hours rather easily. They also threw one of them into the gardens. The question of the hour was ¡®how does this help kill Thersyn?¡¯

    They weren¡¯t going to stink them out of the secure wing in the palace. This was not enough to justify evacuating the damn place and sending in a decontamination team to clean up the mess. It could be a distraction, but it was a bad one if that was the case. They could have smuggled the glass bottles through the post office. It would look extremely suspect to bring a vial of unknown fluids onto the palace grounds when there¡¯s an active threat to the King¡¯s safety. That would demand using a waiver.

    But they could have smuggled something helpful! A little concealable gun, poison, explosives ¨C all of them seemed more useful than a stink bomb. I was missing a key fact. I wasn¡¯t going to find it by leaning through the open window and trying to spot the indiscernible fingerprints on the broken glass using my naked eye.

    ¡°Lady Maria?¡±

    Fleur was cresting the steps.

    ¡°Is something wrong, Fleur?¡±

    He smiled and approached with an affable demeanour, ¡°Ah. No, I was worried that you had fled the dining hall for a...¡±

    His face fell.

    ¡°What in the good name of the Goddess is that awful smell?¡±

    I motioned to the window. He followed my guidance and looked over the edge, spotting the same glass bottle that I had found during my search.

    ¡°It appears that someone has been smashing these around the palace grounds. I would bet good money that this is the same problem that Theodore complained about in the garden.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s disgusting! Goodness gracious me! We¡¯ll have to remove it post-haste!¡±

    Fleur¡¯s eyes watered from the intensity of it. I wasn¡¯t far behind him.

    ¡°Honestly! It¡¯s an affront to good taste that anyone would think this is an acceptable prank to pull.¡±

    I heard a loud shriek echoing across the tree-covered hills that surrounded the palace. I glanced outside for a moment, distracted by the animalistic noise. Fleur pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held his nose even tighter.

    ¡°Indeed. Allow me to step away. This is more than enough for my liking.¡±

    Fleur stuck by my side as we moved back to the ground floor and towards the dining room. There was a feeling of dread starting to roll up and down my spine. The wheels were in motion ¨C and I was still firmly out of my depth. I needed to speak with the ladies as soon as possible, which meant narrowing the field to Otto and Felix.

    Today would be the decisive round of our game, and I intended to win.

 Chapter 172

    ¡°I want Otto and Felix to advance.¡±

    Fleur was taken aback by the sudden development in the marriage interview process.

    ¡°Do you have a specific reason for choosing them, if you don¡¯t mind my asking?¡±

    I did have a reason. Their mothers were named on the postmaster¡¯s note as two of the people who issued missives to the office in the past week. I couldn¡¯t tell him about that, so I came up with a vague justification that scared him away from asking any more questions.

    ¡°I enjoyed our discussions the most. Not to insist that they are both perfect, nobody is, but I feel that they are the best options available to me. Perhaps it¡¯s easiest to call it a hunch. Ultimately how I feel about them is the most important factor, given the disbalance in our respective positions.¡±

    Fleur nodded, ¡°Very well. Although I struggle to imagine what more there is to see from them.¡±

    ¡°I would like to meet my potential mother-in-law before making my final choice.¡±

    Fleur wanted so badly to question why I needed to meet them ¨C but he was already pushing his luck by asking me to explain my choices. That same power imbalance meant that I was not going to be dealing with them once the deal was sealed and their sons left the palace to become a member of my family.

    In the greater pantheon of strange and esoteric noble behaviour however, the request was no so odd as to be refused at first blush. Fleur had probably dealt with even worse requests than this before; far, far worse. Being a high-level servant meant seeing a lot from your host family, especially if you were assigned to look after an elderly member who needed constant care.

    ¡°I will relay your wishes to the good ladies and see to it that the meetings are arranged post-haste. Would you like to deliver the news to the others?¡±

    ¡°I may as well.¡±

    We headed back into the reception room where they were waiting like a pack of overeager puppies. They had no idea that I was about to pull the rug from under four of them. I stood at the head of the circle and put my hands together apologetically.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come to a decision about who will be proceeding from here. I hope that there are no hard feelings, regardless of what choice I make.¡±

    The tension in the room was immediately ratcheted to the maximum. They leaned forward in their chairs and silently prayed to the Goddess that they would not be eliminated from the competition. The harsh reality was that four of them never had a chance in the first place. They wouldn¡¯t be happier knowing that the entire process was a sham either.

    ¡°Conrad, Louis, Anton, Ludwig. I¡¯m afraid that I must deliver the news you may not wish to hear. Felix and Otto will precede to the last stage.¡±

    Each name was an audible gunshot that struck them down into their seats, grimaces, frowns and quivering upper lips in matching array. They would ruminate on what went wrong and perhaps harbour harsh attitudes towards the two finalists, but that was not my problem to solve.

    The four evictees were asked to stand by Fleur and bow out of respect.

    ¡°Thank you for your consideration, Lady Maria,¡± Louis muttered.

    ¡°Ah! I knew I was screwed!¡± Conrad groaned.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Anton said simply.

    Ludwig was last, ¡°Otto won over me?¡±

    Not so gracious in defeat as the other boys ¨C but to be frank he was correct in his assessment about how rotten this process was. There was no universe in which a sore winner like Otto would win given everything I¡¯d seen from him. He was a boorish loudmouth with too many personality deficiencies to name.

    Fleur escorted the losers out of the room so that he could have a brief man-to-man chat about not getting discouraged. Felix was practically bouncing up and down in his seat as all of his wildest fantasies about our destined romance creeped every closer to becoming reality. Otto¡¯s reaction was more smug satisfaction over eliminating more of his competition. To him the real prize was getting one over on the others, and not marrying me.

    ¡°Lady Maria, I knew that I was right!¡± Felix crooned, ¡°You and I were simply meant to be! Why not discard with these silly games and declare me the victor ¨C as we all understand is the inevitable course.¡±

    Otto scowled, ¡°You always count your eggs before they hatch. The fact that she didn¡¯t chose you alone means that she still wants to see more from us. You¡¯re still capable of losing, so this overconfidence of yours is entirely unbecoming.¡±

    ¡°Hmph. I fail to see how you stand any chance at this point. You have a voice like a bag of the finest gravel and a face like a slapped bottom!¡± Felix taunted.

    Otto laughed it off, ¡°And there you go again, slinging insults without seeming to notice that Lady Maria is here in the room with us. I hope she¡¯s paying close attention ¨C because this type of petulant behaviour is your most defining trait.¡±

    Felix was furious. He got to his feet and pointed an accusatory digit in his direction.

    ¡°Maria and I have a connection! Our nighttime meeting was an accident, but it¡¯s those types of incidents wherein you see the true measure of a man.¡±

    ¡°Would you two stop this meaningless squabble?¡± I asked, ¡°You both have a chance to earn my affection. I would advise that you take that seriously and refrain from making assertive declarations about your upcoming victory.¡±

    The two hot-headed boys snapped back to attention like they were being barked at by a drill sergeant. The sudden switch from petulant teenagers to well-behave nobles demonstrated finely just how worthless initial impressions could be. Everyone in this class of Walserian society were wearing masks. It was all a well-prepared piece of collectivized theatre.

    ¡°There is one important factor to consider before I make my final choice. As the arrangement involves both of our families, I would like to introduce myself to your mothers before the end.¡±

    Otto was not overly excited about the prospect; ¡°There is little need to meet her and gain her approval. She would be willing to approve any marriage at this point.¡±

    That was a gross exaggeration to say the least. Even if they were the lower-rung members of the royal family, their pride was still as big as the people on the upper steps. Why marry off their sons and daughters if they got nothing out of the deal? In my case I was an extremely wealthy heiress in one of the most prolific families around.

    Felix was more on point than Otto, ¡°It¡¯s not merely their approval. If Maria chooses one of us, then she will become her mother-in-law. As much as we may with to retain our independence, she will remain a consistent fixture in our day-to-day lives beyond this.¡±

    ¡°It hardly seems fair to decide between us based on the way our mothers behave. I cannot control what she elects to do.¡±

    Otto¡¯s rhetoric was leading Felix into a metaphorical brick wall. Felix liked to imagine that we were fated lovers, and that there was some kind of true romance hidden beneath the surface of an otherwise normal interview process. Even he had to acknowledge that his family had an outsized effect on the final decision of any prospective partner.

    They were a pack of meddlers. We all knew it. Felix wanted so badly to be the ¡®correct¡¯ one in this discussion, but doing so would undercut his bullshit about a destined romance and that chance meeting in the upper floor¡¯s hallway when I was looking for the smuggled packages.

    The worst-case scenario was the extended family moving into our manor instead of remaining at the palace. That was a good enough reason to vet their parents at the very least before making a choice. I¡¯d be chaining myself to dealing with them for decades to come with no say in the matter.

    ¡°A-Anyway, we should strive to create a harmonious relationship between Maria and our close family. If Maria requests a discussion ¨C then I am duty bound to deliver!¡±

    Otto wasn¡¯t going to back down after coming so far.

    ¡°As will I. Please allow me some time to arrange a time and place.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve already informed Fleur ¨C so hopefully he will have gotten a head start,¡± I revealed.

    Both boys looked hesitant about this plan. They didn¡¯t have a choice though.

    <hr>

    It took a few hours for Felix to wrangle his mother into a meeting with me, and only under the provision that it would be a brief introduction and expression of intent. There would be no time for socializing or asking questions.

    We stood outside the door to one of the rooms assigned to her side of the family. Felix was already starting to look nervous about the meeting. Meanwhile I felt no tension at all. I was only here to give the false impression that he was in with a shot and get my measure of the women behind the curtain.

    ¡°Please remember your manners at all times. I know that you are exceptional on that front, but mother takes it all very seriously.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes ¨C there¡¯s no need to worry.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    The doors swung open and he loudly gulped in response. Was his mother really so much of a battle-axe that it deserved this type of overreaction? I was about to find out first-hand. We walked through and towards the seating area where Mila was waiting for us. The servant who opened the door stepped outside and closed it behind them to secure our privacy.

    Mila Van Walser was very image of a shrewish noblewoman. Her face was square, with a brow that seemed perpetually twisted into a stern frown no matter her mood. It was almost impossible for me to gauge how she was feeling when I first laid eyes on her, and it wasn¡¯t about to get any easier.

    I curtsied, ¡°Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Lady Mila.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is all mine, Lady Maria. It is an honour to meet a girl who has curried such a fearsome reputation.¡±

    ¡°If I may, fearsome is not the impression I intend to deliver.¡±

    ¡°We are not always in control of how others see us,¡± she replied sharply, ¡°In my eyes ¨C a fearsome reputation for your good breeding, intelligence and excellent manners are things to wear proudly. Only a very special person can accrue a repute like that.¡±

    She must have heard rumours about me through the old noble grapevine. Gossiping about the available singles was the one universal topic of discussion at all parties and balls. Noble women in the royal family were still firmly entrenched in the concept that they existed to do little more than look pretty and pump out babies for their rich husbands.

    Not that all of them enjoyed it ¨C but speaking about a desire for more was ill-advised.

    Oddly there were many female leaders, family heads and business owners in the noble class. Male succession was not a given in Walser. Patriarchal approaches were reserved almost exclusively for the Van Walser family and their offshoots. In one sense they believed that they did hold huge amounts of sway through matchmaking and child-rearing.

    That may have been the case a few decades ago; but massive amount of money and influence were flowing into the hands of a new class of robber baron. There was a rapid and brutal realignment to the power of capital, a power that did not rely on birth right to project itself to every corner of the continent.

    She stared at me, ¡°I must say, stories about your beauty are simply a disservice compared to seeing you in the flesh. It is no wonder that all of the boys are infatuated with you.¡±

    ¡°I can only hope that I age gracefully, as my mother did.¡±

    I meant it. Looking like a doll sitting mournfully in the front window of a high-street toy shop was going to drive me insane sooner or later. Veronica had grown out of it, so I hoped her genetic predication would pass on to me and liberate me from the infuriating parade of objectifying comparisons I endured every single day.

    ¡°I believe that Felix is the best choice available to you. I will not tar and feather Matilda without reason, she and I are close friends. I implore you to approach this matter objectively, with an eye towards what benefits you will gain from marrying into our branch of the tree.¡±

    ¡°Such as?¡±

    Mila¡¯s mouth thinned, ¡°Forgive me for saying this ¨C but recent events mean that our branch is closer to the throne than ever before.¡±

    Felix groaned, ¡°Mother...¡±

    She glanced at him and sighed, ¡°It will do us no good to ignore the issue here. Thersyn has my respect and my confidence, but I¡¯m afraid that those two things are not what determines who is in control of the family. Ekkehard is the King - and he has control over the levers of power. It¡¯s only a matter of time before this uneasy peace comes to an end.¡±

    It didn¡¯t feel good to admit to that, but she was correct in her observation. Thersyn had little authority to wield in the current situation. His continued safety was only guaranteed by Welt¡¯s hesitation to kill him in light of his popularity with the monarchists whom he wished to curry support from.

    Sloan was clearly not in a similar state of mind. He wanted him dead to lock Ekkehard into place by removing the ¡®best¡¯ option in the world of public opinion. Thersyn refusing to consent to being their puppet was an unwanted development that changed their plans drastically.

    ¡°The point is, against Otto and Matilda we are much better positioned to benefit should Ekkehard become the head of house. We are more closely related to him than they are, and are thus higher in the order of royal succession.¡±

    This was all a meaningless exercise in making herself feel better. Even with that change to the line of inheritance, she would still be a long, long way away from enshrining any of her direct descendants onto the throne. It would require a genuinely cataclysmic family tragedy to demand that of her children.

    In past years that may well have been a threat. A lack of understanding about childbirth, genetics and the human body posed an eminent risk to the mothers and ensured that an infertile monarch left no direct descendants to take their place. Medical science had advanced well beyond that now ¨C and the size and scale of the Van Walser family was much greater than in the preceding centuries.

    All in all, I was not impressed with her. She was one of those dime-a-dozen nobles who wanted to climb the ranks but didn¡¯t have the smarts or grit to do it the proper way. Nothing much defined her as a personality beyond her peerless ability to frown. If she wasn¡¯t careful she would wrinkle very quickly in her older years.

    Just as I was about to move on to the next topic, that same damn smell wafted through a crack in the door and touched my already punished nostrils. I almost gagged on reflex before pinching my nose and keeping the foul odour away as best I could.

    ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ name is that horrible smell?¡± I said, playing up my reaction as best I could.

    It was brief but I noticed it. Mila tensed up and glanced at her own body, as if to check if the smell was not originating from her. I could imagine what she was thinking in that moment. ¡®Did I screw up and spill it on myself?¡¯ Those were the eyes of a woman who had experienced a skipped beat in her chest.

    The smell was actually coming through the door behind me. The servant from before pushed it open, holding a napkin to his nose in an attempt to ward it away.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, might I suggest we move to another chamber? This intolerable aroma is not the ideal atmosphere for an important meeting.¡±

    She leapt on the opportunity to distract me, ¡°Ah. Yes! Let¡¯s move right away!¡±

    There was no smell when we entered the room. Someone must have deployed one of the vials after we left the corridor. I gritted my teeth and cursed my luck. I couldn¡¯t break away from the meeting and go chasing down the culprit without arousing too much suspicion.

    Regardless, it seemed that Mila was hiding something from me. Her reaction to my comment about the stink was telling. I had to pry the truth out of her subtly and efficiently. We were whisked away from the splash zone and into another, more isolated room that wasn¡¯t being infested with the stink bombs.

    ¡°Mother, may I go to the washroom for a moment. I feel rather unwell after that...¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    Felix bowed and quickly marched to the nearest wash closet to try and keep himself from vomiting, and maybe find a drink to wash it down as well. We moved through the door and into the second room ¨C which possessed a lovely view of the back gardens through tall, arched windows.

    ¡°Honestly, what is that smell? I hope a sewerage pipe didn¡¯t burst.¡±

    Mila tried to keep her cool; ¡°The pipes in the palace have been installed relatively recently. I hope they have not been damaged for whatever reason, the damage they could cause to the building is rather significant.¡±

    I remained silent after that. Mila shuffled in her chair and cleared her throat. She was thinking a lot of different things, but the prevailing thought was that Felix sure was taking a long time to get back from the bathroom.

    ¡°I take it that the guards spoke with you...¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°About that incident? My servant found an intruder unconscious in one of the ground floor lounges. He told me that he¡¯d knocked himself out using a shattered vase somehow.¡±

    ¡°I hardly see what that has to do with me,¡± she blustered.

    ¡°I¡¯m merely curious about the security arrangements at the palace. We live in very dangerous times. I would hate for anyone to get hurt because of this squabble over the Compromise.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not at liberty to share,¡± she snapped coldly, ¡°I know that you have a stellar reputation ¨C but to even offer a modicum of information about those preparations would land me in some hot water.¡±

    As I considered my next approach to the problem, another loud screech filled the air, rattling the windows and distracting us from our conversation. My eyes snapped to the outside. At first there was nothing to see, but a moment afterwards the entire room shook as something landed on top of the roof.

    ¡°W-What is that?¡± Mila cried.

    I approached the window and looked outwards. There were gardeners and soldiers pointing towards the palace from further down the way. I saw nothing of note when I followed their gaze thanks to the intricate stonework that surrounded every pore and porthole of the building.

    But I needn¡¯t have attempted to see the source of the noise myself. I staggered back as a large feathered blob swung down from above and parked itself in front of the glass pane. It twisted from left to right ¨C revealing a long yellow beak and piercing slit eyes. A pair of wings flapped lazily in the breeze, with powerful talons digging into the stone to hold its heavy body in place.

    It spotted me.

    Time stopped for an agonizing moment, my mind scrambling for an answer to the impossible situation I¡¯d been put in by Durandia and the conspirators. There was a Walserian half-hawk dangling from the roof of the palace, and it was very much in a bad mood. The glowing orbs focused on me, and I was the sole target of the griffon¡¯s fury.

    I scrambled back as one clawed hand crashed through the window in an attempt to slash me into ribbons. The hawk readjusted and twisted back down so it could shove its head through the gap to try and eat us instead. Mila was already rushing to unlock the door before I reached her.

    ¡°You moron! Did you smuggle half-hawk pheromones into the palace grounds?¡±

    ¡°Why are you accusing me?¡±

    I pushed her aside and unlocked the door properly, before grabbing her by the back of her dress and tugging her through with me.

    ¡°That was that the damnable smell we just encountered! And you looked as guilty as a child caught in the pantry with chocolate around their mouth!¡±

    ¡°I did no such thing!¡±

    She tried to wrestle free from my hold ¨C but soon discovered that I was much too strong to beat in a physical confrontation. I pulled her to a private nook away from the room and kept her held against the wall. The screeching was getting louder, and there was more than one half-hawk in the area. Each one threatened to shatter the windows that surrounded us. They vibrated ominously with each proclamation.

    ¡°The postmaster put your name down as one of the suspects. This is a cute little diversion so that your hitman can kill Thersyn, is it not?¡±

    They were crawling all over the place! Those powerful talons cut through the stonework like a knife through butter. I kept a close eye on what was going on around us in case one of them found a way inside. This was the type of chaos that they needed to break into the secured section of the palace.

    ¡°S-Such unfounded accusations! Do you forget your place?¡±

    ¡°You are going to get us all killed - although I suppose they didn¡¯t tell you about what that stuff really was before they made you smuggle it into here. You were the perfect mule. Too stupid to ask questions and too greedy to tell them to bugger off!¡±

    I wasn¡¯t going to get a confession out of her without some force. She tried to struggle free again while I wrapped my arm around her neck and started to guide her back towards the room where the hawk was waiting.

    ¡°Unhand me this instant! What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Giving the half-hawk a meal, since you don¡¯t feel it essential to be honest about what¡¯s going on here.¡±

    Mila desperately pushed her arms and legs against the edge of the doorway to keep us from moving any deeper. She knew that she¡¯d be turned into bird food if she so much as stepped back inside of there.

    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know who else is responsible for this!¡± she pleaded, ¡°They said that Ekkehard would do anything for us if we did as they planned!¡±

    ¡°Who told you?¡±

    ¡°The head chef!¡±

    The chef? What the hell was going on around here?

    I released her.

    ¡°The chef? The one who I heard complaining about his menu being modified earlier?¡±

    That was a pretty drastic escalation from complaining to Fleur about it, but people killed notable figures for less...

    ¡°I... I don¡¯t know everything. He started working here a year ago.¡±

    A year ago. That was in the middle of Welt putting all his piece into place for the grand plan. He must have had people on the inside of the palace ready for every eventuality. If he couldn¡¯t use his position to poison Thersyn because of their security methods, then he would instead be a convenient point of contact to arrange a new plan.

    I¡¯d need to deal with that later. If the ¡®distraction¡¯ was this flock of half-hawks tearing the palace to shreds because of the musk some lackey was dousing the building with, then they real gears were turning elsewhere. It would be a direct assault on the secure areas of the palace¡¯s inner sanctum.

    I left Mila to cower in the corner and set off to put a stop to it.

 Chapter 173

    Half-hawks were a curious kind of creature.

    Under better circumstances I could have learnt to appreciate their complexities and beauty, but these were not the right moments to become overly romantic about their appearance and uniqueness. An entire flock of the damnable creatures were descending on the palace grounds thanks to the thorough stink-bombing the surrounding area had received by unseen hands.

    The pheromones in question were illegal to harvest and handle, as it usually required trapping or killing the half-hawk in order to collect it. As the national animal of Walser ¨C they had been added to a protected species list instituted by parliament a few years ago. There was a real threat that the expanding industrialisation of the country would force them into smaller and smaller habitable areas, and maybe extinction in the far future.

    If the postmaster saw vials of the stuff and caught that scent it would lead to an investigation as to what it was. He might have suspected that it was poison at first, but it was an entirely different kind of controlled substance. Either way it wouldn¡¯t be let past the office and onto the grounds, and the police would be dispatched to figure out where it came from.

    I couldn¡¯t count the number of screeching birds assailing the palace from inside. Claws scraped against stone and skittered across the rooftops, punctuated with the occasional clatter of breaking class and the screams of the people inside. If a group of them thought females ready and willing to breed were nearby, they would come in droves and wreak havoc until they found them.

    This was the type of plan a lunatic would cook up. They must have known that a group of half-hawks would be near the palace at this time of year, being surrounded on most sides by dense woodland and some small mountains that served as the ideal homes. They had men on the interior who worked the shifts, and they smuggled the pheromones into the palace grounds by pressuring some of the ladies in residence with promises of fortune and influence.

    But it was also a suicidal plan. It was going to be almost impossible to get away even if they managed to find and kill Thersyn in the midst of the chaos. They would be tracked down by the guards with haste, and if they left the building they would be set upon by a group of horned-up animals with the claws of a lion and the sharpened beaks of a bird-of-prey. The people finishing the job would have to be true believers to take that risk.

    Shadows crept across the long corridors, their bulky bodies blocking out the light coming from outside. I kept my head down and focused on making my way to the private sanctum on the third floor. That was where security was the tightest, but I was already starting to notice that a lot of the guards away from the secure area had left their posts to try and ward away the menacing creatures.

    I saw beady eyes glaring through the glass. The servants and residents were barricading whatever doors they could find using the furniture they had on hand. I sprinted past them without a second thought. The callous calculation I was making overrode any desire I might have had to help out. If Thersyn died ¨C it would be a lot worse than a small group of guards and royals being eaten by half-hawks; it would be an all-out war across the nation as the path to peace was closed off.

    Ironically, saving the former monarch was the key to placating the republicans.

    If people believed that the situation could be resolved and everything put back to how it was, they would be less liable to respond with violence. There would be recriminations for the massacre at the plaza, I was under no illusions about that, but it would remain mostly localized to the cities and not spread beyond them.

    But I wasn¡¯t thinking about the implications of the matter at this point. I was constantly looking around and keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of infiltration into the building by gunmen or magical animals. The hallways were wide enough that a half-hawk could barrel down one of them and crush whoever was unlucky enough to get in their way.

    They should have built this palace with fewer windows.

    I could forgive the architects for not foreseeing a hostile griffon invasion when they designed it. What I couldn¡¯t forgive was the disorganized response I was witnessing during my mad dash to the sanctum. The rank-and-file guards were completely paralyzed by the chaotic situation, unsure of how to deal with the dangerous creatures without putting themselves at unneeded risk. Those rifles they wielded could stop a half-half with a well-placed shot, but getting one was the real challenge when they were flying through the air or thrashing around in an enclosed space.

    I passed across a hallway lined with skylights. A deafening crash rang out from above my head, and I barely managed to dodge out of the way as a bloodied body came falling through and onto the carpeted floor with a wet thud.

    ¡°Holy shit!¡±

    It took a lot to make me react like this, and the ghastly sight of a royal guard who had been cut to ribbons by a half-hawk¡¯s claws and dropped from a great height was good enough to make me break character for a moment. He¡¯d almost taken me out like a tossed projectile too!

    He was a goner. There were three large gashes in his back that were bleeding profusely and covering the floor in a crimson puddle. They were so deep that it must have cut into the organs beneath his bones. If that hadn¡¯t done him in ¨C the fall certainly finished the job. There were limbs pointing in the wrong direction, not to mention the possible head and neck trauma.

    That brief lapse of concentration meant that I wasn¡¯t looking through the broken skylight. A clawed leg pushed through the gap and tried to reach down for his corpse to no avail. I got the hell out of there before it could make a meal out of me too. They were being driven wild by the pheromones, resulting in aggressive and territorial behaviour that put everyone at risk.

    As I drew closer to the sanctum where Thersyn was hiding I started to hear more voices shouting, and even a few gunshots. It was impossible to know if they were trying to shoot down the hawks or gun down the King ¨C but it carried me onwards all the same. I had to stop them from getting to him.

    Before I reached the secure area, there was one notable face hiding in one of the corridors. Theodore was crouching by the windows, covering his head in a pointless attempt to keep the hawks from noticing him. He turned his eyes up towards me and panicked at being seen in such a state.

    ¡°Where are your guards?¡± I asked.

    Despite the situation he retained his icy demeanour; ¡°They rushed away to assist one of the injured servants. They told me to get deeper into the building and find a safe place ¨C but these things are everywhere.¡±

    Sensing that cowering on the floor wasn¡¯t the best look, he straightened out the lapels on his jacket and cleared his throat. It was a momentary crack in his armour. Since I hadn¡¯t spent any time with him beyond a chance meeting at the academy, Theodore was an unknown quantity to me. He might have been pushed in an entirely different direction to the game while I wasn¡¯t paying attention.

    ¡°Where did these beasts come from?¡± he asked pointedly.

    ¡°I suspect that the dour smell you found was a glass vial filled with half-hawk mating pheromones. Someone is trying to kill your father ¨C and they¡¯ve concocted a novel distraction to try and access the inner sanctum.¡±

    He frowned, ¡°I knew this was going to happen eventually...¡±

    There was no time to sit around and explain the entire situation to Theodore. If anything, I wanted him to stay well away from the carnage and out of eyeshot so he didn¡¯t witness me putting some foolhardy assassins into an early grave. He never struck me as the type to keep a secret.

    ¡°This can¡¯t be a safe place to hide. Don¡¯t you know this palace like the back of your hand?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think the hawks can find me here. There¡¯s hardly a room in this entire complex that doesn¡¯t have at least one large window built into it!¡±

    ¡°Even the broom cupboards?¡±

    ¡°That would be a foolish endeavour. Those kinds of rooms aren¡¯t in this building at all. The staff have to leave and return with their tools when they are in demand.¡±

    That was inconvenient for both the servants and me. What the hell was this about? If there was an accident or a spill, they had to leave the building to find something as simple as a broom to clean it up? That was a level of class-division that boggled the mind. Having a broom closet was too much of an encroachment in their personal space!

    ¡°Then by all means remain here until the chaos is done with. I¡¯m afraid I cannot stay. I have to find Franklin, and fast.¡±

    Theodore frowned, ¡°You don¡¯t honestly mean to brave these murderous creatures on your lonesome.¡±

    ¡°Is that a surprise? I would have thought that you¡¯d be the most familiar with my reputation and way of doing things. I will not be deterred ¨C no matter the obstacle.¡±

    I pushed ahead and left him in the dust. Prolonging the discussion was simply increasing the odds of him following me and causing trouble for my intervention. I descended one last flight of steps and came out onto the floor where the sanctum was located. This roundabout route had kept me away from the most dangerous spots in the building.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    If anywhere was in possession of a windowless room, then this segment of the palace would be it. This was a section of the building that only a select few could enter, and there was no way to look into it from the outside. The hallway was abruptly cut in two by a pair of heavy double doors that were normally guarded at all times. The places where the windows looked out onto were restricted.

    There were no ¡®hard¡¯ security features, no bars on the windows or spikes poking outwards from the luxurious stonework. It was all intelligently designed to provide both comfort and safety to the residents. The sightlines were managed carefully to keep prying eyes out and potential killers from being able to see what was coming up ahead of them.

    Most goons would never consider these factors. I noticed them from the first moment I stepped through the doors, which were both unguarded and left wide open. That wasn¡¯t a good start, and the winding design of the sanctum interior meant there was no easy way to quickly learn the layout or figure out where the King was hiding. It was evident that the killers were already here ¨C but I didn¡¯t have my gun. That was still in my room, what felt like two damn miles away.

    There were muffled voices coming from somewhere. Just being here was enough to blow my cover and wreak havoc for the rest of my days, but if they were going for broke then I had no choice but to respond in kind. I couldn¡¯t let them kill Thersyn and toss a match into the powder keg they¡¯d created with their coup.

    Thersyn didn¡¯t merely sign the Compromise, he was the compromise.

    The deal held for as long as it did because it came with his backing. People were willing to accept that he was acting in the best interests of the nation as a whole. He was a popular figurehead even in times where the influence of the monarchy was waning. The monarchists could preserve the institution, and the republicans could establish a permanent role for parliament.

    If Thersyn went, then the gloves would be off and all hell would break loose.

    I didn¡¯t have a choice. Gun or no gun, I was going to run into the secured area, possibly blow my cover, and maybe even get shot dead in the process. The only saving grace was my increasing belief in the insane amounts of convenience that were a common occurrence because of Durandia¡¯s long-term planning. Sloan and his cronies weren¡¯t going to be leading the charge, and she wouldn¡¯t get rid of me until my role was done.

    I marched onwards and started seeking out the voices that I could hear. There was a panic spreading inside of the building, and not just because of the half-hawks nipping at their heels and smashing windows like an angry mob. They timed their assault on the sanctum to perfection, being in position and ready to move the very moment the fighting broke out.

    After getting lost and frustrated a handful of times, I found my way to the door where a group of three men were waiting with their guns bared. Hiding around the corner allowed me to get a measure on whose side they were supporting.

    ¡°Come on out and give us the key! We¡¯ll let you go if you comply!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d sooner shoot myself than betray the King¡¯s expectations and trust! You can try to break in here all you please. I will not be handing you the key!¡±

    ¡°Nobody¡¯s coming to help Thersyn, or you ¨C so you¡¯d better wise up fast and pick the winning side if you want to leave here alive!¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a mystery what they were trying to do. It looked like my own panic was misplaced. They¡¯d secured Thersyn and his family somewhere in the sanctum behind a door that they couldn¡¯t blow through using small arms. No doubt a feature requested by Thersyn himself to modernize the security regimen at the palace.

    ¡°He¡¯s not budging,¡± the second gunman scoffed, ¡°Let¡¯s blow the damn lock off of this thing and drag him out here already!¡±

    That meant it was my time to shine.

    I focused my senses and closed out the mayhem that surrounded me. Using my magic out of the gates was a tough price to pay for having not brought a pistol with me. I needed to preserve as much of it as possible in case they deployed those juiced-up mages to cause some havoc.

    The point man on the right caught on too late to stop me. I fired a bolt of energy towards them, striking all three men simultaneously and knocking them out cold in a heap in front of the door. I hurried over and started rifling through their pockets, finding a concealable revolver on one of them. It was tiny and low calibre ¨C and he didn¡¯t even bring extra rounds with him to reload it.

    What the hell is this shit? Was he planning on getting into fistfight range before opening fire on the enemy?

    ¡°Hey! Are you still out there?¡±

    There was no need to stir the pot with the servant inside the barricaded room, nor did I wish to reveal my identity without a good reason. My only goal was to keep them from getting to Thersyn. If they were getting close then the key would be worthless, as it would likely come with a demolished door or wall to grant them access.

    ¡°I¡¯m not falling for your tricks! You can stay out there and keep quiet, but I¡¯m not opening this door until I hear from one of the other guards!¡±

    Smart move, if not for the reasons he intended.

    With a ¡®weapon,¡¯ in the loosest sense of the word, secured - and knowing that I was now on the right track I left the servant to cower in his room until the sounds of gunfire and screaming stopped.

    I continued to marvel at how terrible the revolver was whilst I continued to progress through the sanctum. It was small enough that it looked almost normal sized in my palm, and the trigger felt like it would snap off and break at any moment when I tested it. I wasn¡¯t even convinced that the hammer would hit the primer hard enough to fire.

    The main living space for the royals was separated from the staff area that surrounded it. Even within this secured area there was a deeper part still, wherein only the family was permitted to enter. I followed the shouting until I came across the scene. A larger group of men were waiting at the door, headed by a familiar face.

    ¡°They¡¯re not here with the keys. I¡¯m going blow this bloody thing wide open! Step back!¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be too hasty, Charlie. I¡¯d prefer that we save your magic for the fight.¡±

    Charlie Sloan was here in the flesh, and now I had a name to put to the face thanks to Genta¡¯s testimony.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got more than enough magic to spare ¨C thank you very much!¡±

    I scrambled to get out of sight. The men surrounding Charlie broke away and ran for the nearest piece of cover before he blew them to kingdom come along with the doors. Charlie thrusted his hands forth and willed into existence a wave of pure energy. The blue pulse crashed into the door with a calamitous roar ¨C only for it to stand firm and remain in place. The displaced force ran across the walls, stripping away the wood and wallpaper and revealing the bare brick beneath.

    Those who didn¡¯t make enough distance between themselves and the assault found their feet leaving the floor as they rolled down the hallway and tried not to injure anything on the way down.

    The second-in-command hurried over before he could try again, ¡°For goodness sake Charlie, I told you that it won¡¯t work! This place is built like a bunker! Even you can¡¯t knock these walls down!¡±

    ¡°What a load of horse shit! There¡¯s no mortar or brick I¡¯ve seen that can resist my magic, never mind a door!¡±

    ¡°These walls are four layers thick, with heavier stuff in the middle and rebar inserts to keep them from crumbling under stress. The doors are the same. They¡¯re made of metal, double-layered, locked into place from the inside, and they¡¯re designed to resist outside forces like that wave of yours.¡±

    ¡°Who the hell appointed you as the expert?¡± Charlie scoffed, unable to reply with an intelligent recourse.

    ¡°This is all information our inside agents gathered before we arrived. They found the plans too.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they should have secured the bastard key before they worried about what the walls were built from!¡±

    ¡°We were going to blow through the walls at first, and we only decided against it because of the info they collected!¡±

    Charlie, being a child, was easily distracted by pointless spats that went back and forth for no good reason. The problem was giving a personality like that an immense level of deadly power that they could deploy at will. His temper tantrums could destroy an entire city block at worst.

    ¡°Screw this. I¡¯m going to get that key myself. The rest of you stay here and watch the door.¡±

    Thinking fast I fell back and retraced my steps until I found a breakaway point. Charlie waltzed past me without sparing a second glance. I tailed him for a few minutes until we reached the sight of my attack on his friends. He stopped in place and growled at the pile of unconscious bodies.

    ¡°You worthless pieces of garbage better not be dead!¡± he seethed.

    I would have loved to sneak up on him and snap his spine using my magic, but the marble floor meant he would hear me long before I got the chance. He could spin around and blast me into next month at a moment¡¯s notice, and he was in a bad enough mood to unleash his anger on anyone who tried.

    He kicked their prone bodies and tried to resuscitate them to no success. He was not a gentle hand ¨C and his blows would only make the situation worse. When that failed, he retargeted his anger to the locked door where the servant was hiding. I couldn¡¯t let him blow that door open, even if it meant exposing my position.

    I aimed the shitty revolver at his back and squeezed the trigger. The hammer worked, and the bullet flew through the air and struck him in the shoulder. Charlie staggered forwards from the impact, swivelling around with a furious scowl that was ugly enough to curdle milk.

    ¡°I can¡¯t let you do that, Charlie.¡±

    ¡°You again? I thought you¡¯d learn to stay well away after last time.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t do that. As your elder, it¡¯s my responsibility to put you on the right track in life...¡±

    ¡°What a load of crap. You¡¯re one of those WISA attack dogs, aren¡¯t you? They let go of your lead, and now you¡¯re trying to stop us from saving Walser.¡±

    I cocked the hammer and laughed, ¡°Don¡¯t pretend that you¡¯re a true believer in any of this. You don¡¯t know the first thing about what¡¯s happening here. You¡¯re just a daddy¡¯s boy who needs a harsh lesson in reality.¡±

    That pissed him off. He reached down to his boot and drew a serrated knife.

    ¡°I¡¯m not even going to use any ammunition on you. I¡¯m going to make it slow and painful, so you can think about how much of a big mistake you just made.¡±

    ¡°This ¡®tough guy¡¯ act is so unbecoming-¡±

    He lowered the dagger into a charging position using both hands and ran at me with a sneer. I waited for him to close the distance before stepping to the side. He clattered into the wall behind me, sinking it a few inches into the wooden boarding and leaving it lodged there. His attempts to remove it were disrupted by a pair of hooks to his nose and brow.

    I gripped the back of his hair and slammed him down into the handle, knocking him for a loop and causing him to fall back onto the floor. I yanked it free and flipped it around in the palm of my hand.

    ¡°-Especially when you fail to back it with action.¡±

    ¡°Shut up! You can¡¯t kill me, even with that knife.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Your blood congeals too quickly for a bullet or stab wound to have a lasting effect, but it¡¯s curious that blunt force trauma still causes no end of problems for you and your ilk. Those electrical signals rushing around in your brain don¡¯t benefit from the touch of the demonic.¡±

    He jumped back to his feet and wiped the blood from his nose, ¡°I don¡¯t care about what you think, or any of that high-class nonsense you keep spouting. Hurry up and die!¡±

    All it took was a moment of concentration for me to sever his spine and end this, but he was not going to give me that window of opportunity so easily. I was also keeping in mind the possibility of him reneging on his claim that he could win without his magic or gun. It was in a holster at the bottom of his back. I needed to be ready to defend myself from either at a moment¡¯s notice, and that left less room for an offensive strategy.

    This ¡®problem¡¯ needed to be nipped in the bud. Charlie was too dangerous to be left roaming around, and while it contravened my personal policy of never killing children, he¡¯d willingly leapt into the battlefield. He couldn¡¯t expect mercy when he was trying to kill others. The gloves were off when it was a matter of life or death.

    ¡°Allow me to show you that raw strength isn¡¯t everything...¡±

 Chapter 174

    I could have killed him right there.

    There was no time to ruminate on what could have been though. In a fight my body always operated on auto-pilot, especially when faced with a clumsy enemy like Charlie. He was full of openings that I couldn¡¯t resist exploiting to my advantage, even if it kept me from taking the risk path of trying to concentrate and sever his spine while throwing him into the hilt of his knife.

    I was internally timing how long it took for Charlie to snap and start firing magic bolts like a raging bull. This kid didn¡¯t know the first thing about winning a real fight. He had made it this far by abusing the power that his dear old dad gave him ¨C throwing overwhelming force at his problems until they went away in a cloud of rubble and red mist.

    He was also the overconfident type. He never witnessed what I was truly capable of during our previous bout, and it was doubtful if he listened to the warnings dispensed by his father once they learned my identity. I was a girl around his age, nothing more, and that meant he should have been able to brutalize me without a problem.

    But there was a problem. I¡¯m a trained killer ¨C not a teenage girl.

    There was that flicker of hesitation in his eyes. That opening salvo was revealing. He wouldn¡¯t be able to reliably beat me by doing reckless stuff like that. I had his knife and was threatening to put it to good use. There was still space behind him to fall back. I took a step, and so did he. I wasn¡¯t getting any closer.

    ¡°What happened to all of that confidence?¡±

    ¡°It still hurts to get stabbed!¡±

    ¡°Then maybe you should have considered a different line of work.¡±

    Charlie roared and charged at me again. I tucked the knife in close to my stomach and stepped into his attack, stabbing it through his abdomen. His momentum continued to carry him, so I was forced to lower my centre of gravity and lift him up over my head using my back. He flipped through the air and came down with a heavy thud, rolling over and clutching the dagger buried into his stomach with a cry of pain.

    That seemed to be his intent. He pulled it free and tossed it aside, the flow of blood stopping so quickly that it didn¡¯t even stain the white shirt he was wearing.

    ¡°Why the hell are you doing this? Just because your father told you to?¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡±

    The timer was up. I ducked away when I saw his hand moving. A powerful bolt of energy flew through the air and shattered the window behind me. Shards of glass rained down onto the marble floor.

    ¡°You¡¯re a child! You shouldn¡¯t have the foggiest damn idea what you want! You don¡¯t even know what a republic really is!¡±

    ¡°I said shut up! I¡¯m going to kill you, bitch!¡±

    ¡°Such foul language from a young man. I¡¯m going to clean your mouth out with soap first.¡±

    If he wanted a battle of magical talent, then he would get one. Firing dumb bursts of energy was effective enough, but he could hardly curve those attacks around corners or utilise any spells more sophisticated than that. I doubted strongly that he could hone his senses at all, never mind use the currents in the air to detect disturbances and locate his enemies.

    He fired several more of them, attempting to rip through the wall and get to me without exposing himself. That dagger wound still hurt him. He couldn¡¯t bleed all that well, but he still felt every injury that was doled out. The brain had a funny way of shutting down when you were placed into an agonizing situation.

    I was focused on evasion. I could feel a big attack coming, so I moved away from the corner and ran as fast as I could to put another wall between me and him. Charlie met my expectations and then some ¨C launching an overkill blast that tore through the walls and half demolished the room that separated us.

    ¡°Where the hell are you? Don¡¯t run away from me!¡±

    I wasn¡¯t running. It was smart positioning. The last respite of the loser was to assert that the foe¡¯s tactics were somehow underhanded or ignoble. If he was going to smash the sanctum to pieces using his spells ¨C then I was going to minimize his advantage by playing the long game.

    I took my chance and lobbed a bolt of lightning his way, striking him in the chest. It shot through the dust and rubble and blindsided him. His arms pulled into his sides like he was being bound by a length of rope, before he lost control of his legs and fell onto the floor in a heap. It didn¡¯t last for long. He crawled back onto his knees and looked in my direction, returning fire with another low-power attack of his own.

    With my head refusing to pop out and get blown away, he resorted to the only strategy he knew. A barrage of increasingly powerful spells were thrown recklessly in my general direction, tearing down walls and tossing furniture every which way in the process.

    It lasted for so long that he started to second-guess his assumption about where I was hiding. Thinking that I had moved away to another part of the interior ¨C he started to attack whatever walls he could see that could possibly conceal my body. He was wrong to assume. I was still in the same spot, hiding at the base of a demolished wall. It was rigid enough to resist the blasts, being connected to the foundations of the building.

    That would change if he truly unleashed the kind of power I witnessed during the funeral in the city. Still, this building was sturdier than the kind of two-story home one would find in an urban, working-class area. It was built from stone, marble and possessed a strong foundation.

    All of this was on my mind. I grinned to myself, hearing the frequency of his attacks slowing down as he discovered that he wasn¡¯t getting the results he wanted. Many of the rooms were left half-standing.

    ¡°You think you¡¯re smarter than me?¡± he panted.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re inexperienced and na?ve.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the same thing!¡±

    ¡°Nobody expects you to be anything else. You¡¯re only a child, like me.¡±

    I finally emerged from my hiding place, preparing to summon a shield at a moment¡¯s notice.

    ¡°To be frank, this is a silly position to find yourself in. I¡¯m sure there are more productive uses of your time and energy than terrorizing people using your magic.¡±

    He spat a gob of bile and blood onto the floor and ground it into the carpet using his boot.

    ¡°Kids like me only get to go to the workhouse.¡±

    ¡°What a load of rubbish. Your father¡¯s a well-known researcher.¡±

    ¡°And it doesn¡¯t pay well enough for a good education. That¡¯s what he told me.¡±

    Na?ve was the right word. Charlie never considered the possibility that Landon was lying to his face. It took a special type of asshole to lead your kid by the nose, but Landon was checking all of the boxes based on what I knew about him. It wasn¡¯t too expensive. He just didn¡¯t expect Charlie to be around for long enough to make the investment a worthy one...

    ¡°And where do you get the right to criticise me like this? You¡¯ve been murdering people all over the bloody place! You¡¯ve got even less reason than me to be here!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here because I¡¯ll be dead otherwise.¡±

    Charlie couldn¡¯t say the same. There was no pressing need for him to join in on his father¡¯s plot. He zipped his lips once again and readied his next attack. We were in a showdown. I never liked westerns though. Despite my projection of confidence ¨C this was a fairly dire situation to be in. Charlie opened and maintained a gap that made it impossible for me to outfight him.

    Whenever someone used magic around me I could sense it. It was like the smell of wet pavement in the sun, and a slight tingle on my skin that made my body hair stand on end. A shiver ran through my entire body from head to toe.

    Charlie gripped his knuckles so tightly that they turned white. He drew it all inwards. The energy in the air suffered a violent reversal, whipping towards him as the eye of a towering hurricane. In my half-focused state, I could still see the magical currents being manipulated by his immense power. In full focus the threat was even more apparent. I was staring dead at the sun.

    ¡°Die!¡±

    It was a simple statement of intent before a simple means of achieving it. He unfurled his hands and thrusted them in my direction. A booming wave of magical and physical energy rolled down the hallway, ripping up furniture, stripping wallpaper and shattering windows. As the walls ran parallel to the blast they remained firm, and served as a convenient channel to accelerate his attack.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    I was going to die. If that thing hit me, I was going to die. There was no doubt about it.

    In that moment there was only one thought blazing in my mind. I was not concerned with the optics of what was happening, or the damage we were causing to the building, or the potential for bystanders to be harmed. I interlaced my fingers with my palms facing outwards and projected my desires onto the physical world in front of me.

    Go away.

    I pulled my hands apart. I had an epiphany somewhere during that process, seeing the wave of energy coming my way, and recollecting everything I thought I knew about nihility magic. Nothing about this power was supposed to be rational. I was a fool for using it to simply break the bonds between the molecules in a physical structure.

    The blue tide parted. The air between us was emptied of all matter and light, leaving nothing but a gaping black void that generated an incredible amount of force. The air around us was being pulled in to fill the gap ¨C but not fast enough to allow his magical attack to continue travelling.

    The breach closed as quickly as it opened. The parts of his attack that avoided the void in reality whipped past my body and shredded the walls on either side of me. Debris flew in every direction, raining down from above like rain on a dreary morning.

    Charlie was stunned. He stood with his hands outstretched and his mouth held agape. Nobody had ever managed to survive that kind of attack before. Not the police, not the soldiers who defied the conspiracy he belonged to, not the many walls and buildings that stood in his way. Everything was ripped to pieces and scattered to the four corners of the continent.

    Until now.

    That damnable noble was standing proudly. Why was she still standing before him without any signs of injury? Why did she look so pleased with herself? Why was she not cowering in fear at his immense power?

    I laughed.

    Charlie tensed up as that characteristic high-pitched shrill, bouncing up and down like suspension of a pothole filled road, filled the air between us.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny? What the hell was that?¡±

    Xenia was right. I wasn¡¯t using this correctly at all!

    I laughed and laughed, and laughed a little more until Charlie was red in the face with a scowl filled with fury. His grand attack had dissipated into thin air, or rather, the complete lack of it. I¡¯d simply deleted it from existence ¨C or shoved it into some unknowable pocket dimension that was going to serve as my personal trash disposal. That was the power of irrational magic. Fuck the rules, I was going to snap my fingers and delete matter if I wanted to!

    There was a slight problem. While I was glad that upping the ante hadn¡¯t turned me into a withered pile of dust as every spec of magic was ripped from my body, it was still comparable to what would happen if I cast my normal nihility spell on a grand scale. I¡¯d erased enough of an opening to cover my body and then some. I could barely stand without falling over and exposing my smug laughter for the theatre that it was.

    On the other hand, Charlie had done the exact same thing as me. No matter how doped up on demon¡¯s blood he was ¨C there was still some type of throughput limit to his mana reserves. If he couldn¡¯t pull the energy evenly from his entire body then more of it would come from his natural well than the blood itself.

    He staggered towards the wall and propped himself up against it. His breathing was heavy. This was the first time since the operation that he had felt the upper limits of his strength being reached. The sanctum had been torn to pieces. I could see clean through one side to the other through several destroyed rooms and brick walls.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have the blood. How did you stop my attack?¡± he asked through gritted teeth.

    ¡°Brute strength is an advantage to be sure ¨C but it can always be defeated by someone who understands the rules and methods better than their foe. Suffice to say, I¡¯ve been training with the best magical tutors in the country for almost a year. Your wave can¡¯t hit me if there¡¯s no air for it to travel through.¡±

    It was a gross understatement of what he¡¯d witnessed. That wasn¡¯t me creating a simple air vacuum using my magic, it was a temporary breach in the fabric of our reality, one that didn¡¯t even pass through into the Veil like I anticipated. There was simply nothing on the other side.

    Durandia handed me a potentially apocalyptic level of power. That meant she expected me to use it to achieve her ends. Just how profound was the threat that we ultimately faced? What kind of malicious being or out-of-control incident required the ability to erase segments of reality for a moment?

    Xenia was angry because Durandia was contravening their golden rules. They were not permitted to hand out divine abilities at their leisure, not without approval from their peers and a very, very good reason.

    Perhaps erasing the air alone would be enough to stop that wave of energy from turning my organs into paste, but that was an elegant, precision operation for which I was not equipped to handle. If I was going to do it ¨C it was all or nothing. I staggered towards Charlie using whatever strength I could muster into my legs. He was temporarily unable to use more magic as his system circulated the mana-filled blood.

    He frantically searched the ground for any sign of the knife he¡¯d used at the start of our battle. It was nowhere to be seen, blown across the area by his wave and embedded into a stray piece of wood or wreckage. It was too late. I ran up to him and performed a textbook double-leg takedown, wrestling him to the floor and mounting him.

    Charlie put up his dukes in a poor attempt to block the rain of punches that were coming at him. Each one hit with a gunfire crack, whipping his head back and knocking it against the marble floor. The tangled carpet did nothing to assist with the blunt force impact. I kept going until I started to see blood leaking from his nostrils and busted lips.

    His resistance was weak. The wind was knocked out of his sails, and without his magic he had no way to effectively fight back. I gripped his shirt and held him up from the floor.

    ¡°Why this?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± he panted.

    ¡°Your dad is taking advantage of you. You shouldn¡¯t be doing this, putting your life in danger for a cause that only he believes in.¡±

    Charlie stared into my eyes impertinently, but as the confrontation stretched on his expression started to soften.

    ¡°He¡¯s my dad.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s doing this for me.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    Charlie growled in frustration at my questions; ¡°The reason he decided to help them was because of me. He thought that this demon¡¯s blood stuff would stop me from kicking the bucket. I was sick as a dog for years. They said I didn¡¯t have long left, so he was willing to try anything.¡±

    He felt indebted to his father, then.

    ¡°If he was so concerned about your health, why is he sending you out here to do this dangerous stuff?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m bloody invincible! You¡¯ve seen it for yourself, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because he¡¯s a cynical piece of shit who wants to use you like a tool!¡±

    That finally roused Charlie from his passive state. He pushed back against me and wrestled free from my grip, rolling over and crawling to the nearest wall so that he could try to get back to his feet. His sense of balance was still shot from the head trauma I¡¯d inflicted. That was something the anti-coagulant properties of his blood couldn¡¯t prevent.

    ¡°Dad would never... he¡¯d never do something like that! He¡¯s doing this for me!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re in for a very harsh lesson, Charlie. Parents have a responsibility to look after their children, but don¡¯t think for one second that it comes with unconditional love. Parents can harbour the most intense hate of all.¡±

    Landon wanted fame. Genta was right about that much. It was what ultimately motivated him. He wanted to be famous, have a campus named after him, the whole nine yards. He wanted to stand amongst the pantheon of great Walserian thinkers like Henry Snow. Revolutionizing warfare in a time of great turmoil was the exact type of magic trick that would get him there.

    Even if he created that turmoil himself.

    As for how he felt about Charlie ¨C that remained a mystery. I couldn¡¯t discount the possibility that in that black heart of his there was a genuine desire to keep his son from passing away. It was hard to accept given the consequences of what he did to make it happen. Genta was also confident in his assertion that eventually all of the subjects injected with the demon¡¯s concoction would die of heart failure.

    Mana was a type of energy. In extremely high concentrations it could erode the molecular structure of whatever it touched. It was a crude form of how my nihility spell worked. Normally this was not a problem, as the human body only accepted it in small quantities. Even a grade five mage would see negligible effects when unleashing their most powerful spells.

    The demon¡¯s blood was a one-two punch of bad news. Not only was the mana content so high that it could potentially weaken thin tissues and other important structures like veins and arteries, but it was dense enough to make the heart work overtime to pump it through them. High pressure, weakened tissues and walls, and an overworked heart was a recipe for a major cardiac event. The points of failure were too numerous for Genta to name, and Landon¡¯s claims of dilution were unavailing in his expert opinion.

    Everything worked out until it didn¡¯t. There was no long-term testing being performed before they launched the large-scale deployment of the stuff. They gathered vagrants and true believers and went to town with no regard for their safety. The tipping point was unknowable, but it was somewhere on the horizon.

    ¡°Go ahead then. Finish me off if you¡¯re so bloody confident about it!¡±

    I wasn¡¯t. That defence I performed had almost caused me to pass out on the spot. I counted my lucky stars that for whatever reason the increased power of the spell didn¡¯t come with a matching cost to scale. It would have killed me otherwise. Mustering the energy to use my normal version and sever his spine was out of the question. I needed to be awake to rescue Thersyn and get out of the palace without being exposed.

    Amongst the assembled rubble of a once-illustrious palace, we were once again trapped in a stalemate. I could beat him all day but it wasn¡¯t going to kill him. He was too tough.

    The sound of flapping wings drew our attention. A wave of dust flooded through the area and blinded me, and a strong gust of wind knocked me off balance and towards the half-demolished wall to my rear. As if that sensory assault was not enough ¨C we were then subjected to an ear-piercing wail as a previously unseen half-hawk peered through the now-open exterior wall.

    I already thought these stinking, hulking beasts were terrifying from my brief encounter earlier, but it was an entirely different thing to see one of them up close and personal. The sheer size and scale of their hybrid bodies turned them into living battering rams.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s time to run away,¡± I suggested.

    ¡°Run? I¡¯m not going anywhere-¡±

    I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and scowled, ¡°Unless you plan to be bird food in the next ten seconds - I suggest that you move those legs and come with me.¡±

    His eyes darted back to the sharp eyes of the predatory monster, and the saliva that dripped freely from the dangerous yellow beak that sprouted from a head covered in fluffy down. The choice was made for him. It sprang into action, squeezing through the gap and into the building with us. Whether he wanted to or not, his legs moved in concert with mine and we fled back towards the room where the stubborn staff member was hiding with the key.

    I could feel it at our backs. It saw a meal, and it wasn¡¯t taking no for an answer. My fears were realized in the most terrifying of circumstances. It crawled through the hallways like a moving roadblock, threatening to bowl over and shred whatever got in its path.

    ¡°In here!¡±

    My mental map of the sanctum came in handy. I pushed Charlie through a narrow corridor and towards a closed door. I dived after him, barely managing to avoid the hawk swooping down and snapping at me with its beak. It slammed into the wall, too wide to make it through and pursue us further. I scrambled back on my hands and knees, taking a quiet moment to behold the living face of these rare creatures.

    I preferred seeing them on seals and shields. I could very much do without the real-life examples. It squawked in frustration and persisted, ramming into the gap over and over without success.

    ¡°We have to get out of sight or it won¡¯t leave,¡± I declared.

    ¡°Yeah, so get out of my bloody sight...¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be another pummelling if you keep running your mouth, Charlie.¡±

    We ducked into the room beyond the door and closed it behind us.

 Chapter 175

    To say that our impromptu meeting in the tiny side room was unpleasant would be a severe understatement of the facts. Spare furniture and other discarded possessions clogged the floorspace. Charlie sat on a chair in front of me. I kept my fingers wrapped around the back of his neck whilst standing at the rear.

    ¡°Why are you keeping your hand on my neck?¡±

    ¡°So I can kill you if you try anything silly.¡±

    If that wasn¡¯t enough to fill the air with awkward tension, the sounds of the half-hawk screaming, braying and scratching at the walls was disquieting in equal amounts. Charlie kept his eyes locked firmly onto the empty bookshelf on the other side of the room. A tiny circular window allowed some natural light into the room with us, but there was no way in hell anyone could squeeze through the gap.

    We remained unmoving for ten minutes. Eventually the hawk became bored, or simply forgot that we were there, and wandered away to cause trouble somewhere else. I wouldn¡¯t want to be in the shoes of Charlie¡¯s armed gang who were still waiting at the door to the inner chamber, hoping that he¡¯d return soon with the key.

    Instead they were going to get turned into bird chow...

    This normally wasn¡¯t an issue in urban areas. Half-hawks were extremely skittish. They didn¡¯t like being around small villages. They were sensitive to any disturbances in their natural habitat ¨C which was why the implementation of national parks and protected areas had been pushed through parliament to ensure they wouldn¡¯t die out.

    How forward thinking of them. I mean that genuinely, this was a world where until five years ago it was still legal for children to work in a factory unclogging machines with their bare hands. The prospect of genuine environmentalism amidst rapid industrialization was notable, if only because the areas in questions weren¡¯t useful for heavy industry.

    Their behaviour would change drastically if some moron smeared a populated area with a dosage of pheromones however. Like many animals they became aggressive and territorial, and would push through their dislike of loud places to seek out a suitable mate. It didn¡¯t matter what season, especially when they believed a fertile female was somewhere nearby.

    ¡°We¡¯re just going to sit here until it goes away?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were worried about rescuing the former king...¡±

    ¡°I know for a fact that none of those nut-brained fools you brought along will be able to get through the door. The security in this wing of the palace has exceeded even my expectations.¡±

    ¡°I should have stayed there and blasted the bloody thing until it fell over.¡±

    Doubtful that such a scheme would have worked. It was evident that the sanctum¡¯s designers were worried about the rapid proliferation of mobile explosives and other demolition techniques. It was effective enough to keep a wave of energy from breaking through to the other side and opening a path.

    ¡°I do wonder what story your father told you to make you this way.¡±

    My first impression of this kid was that he was some kind of elitist, but Sloan¡¯s background was less affluent than that. All that talk about cockroaches and collective punishment for the society he saw as too lax on criminals and frauds. As I considered his words I started to form a new theory about why. Sloan must have ranted and raved endlessly about how his work wasn¡¯t being appreciated enough. That would rub off on any young, impressionable kid after long enough.

    He was a parrot. He didn¡¯t understand what he was saying so long as he could use it as justification to hurt people.

    ¡°He never told me any stories. I¡¯ve seen what¡¯s happening with my own eyes.¡±

    ¡°And what is happening, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Walser rotting from the inside out. A bunch of no-good nobles mooching off the hard work of people like my dad. Frauds and cheats being celebrated in the streets. A bunch of lazy politicians arguing over pointless rubbish like what the flag should look like. It¡¯s stuff like that which means that dad can¡¯t get the credit he¡¯s due. He¡¯s the smartest guy around! Everyone will see how stupid they¡¯ve been when they finally find out about his work, and about me!¡±

    I would have thought that such knowledge would lead to a universal condemnation for using his son as a test subject, but Charlie wasn¡¯t going to accept that.

    ¡°It sounds all very convenient. A good way to excuse whatever type of bad behaviour you want to use on other people. What was that about frauds and cheats? I¡¯d rather have them than a gaggle of psychopathic murderers.¡±

    That was rich coming from me, but it was all about riling him up and making him talk.

    ¡°I never murdered no one!¡± Charlie scoffed, ¡°They were all going to do something worse anyway. There¡¯s not an honest soul at one of those gang funerals. They¡¯re all the same.¡±

    ¡°I do detest thoughtless killers like you. Does thinking for yourself sound too intimidating?¡±

    ¡°Funny of you to say when you¡¯ve been threatening and killing folk this whole time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not passing moral judgement ¨C it¡¯s a personal distaste.¡±

    I was always aware of what shaky ground I stood on when critiquing others, and nobody expected that self-awareness from a man who kills for money. They assume that you¡¯d have to be mad or ignorant to work an amoral job like that, unaware of how it contravened people¡¯s values and expectations.

    ¡°They told me all about you and what you¡¯ve done, and they kept complaining about WISA assassins and stuff.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a popular myth that WISA has an army of trained child spies who take on their dirty work from a young age.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it true? You¡¯re one of them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never worked for WISA in my life. I¡¯m not surprised that they¡¯ve all caught on to what¡¯s happening though. I¡¯ve been meddling in this affair from the start ¨C and I couldn¡¯t keep it under wraps forever.¡±

    ¡°How did you hide it?¡±

    I chuckled, ¡°Have you seen my face? Nobody would ever consider the possibility that I¡¯m the one dispensing violent retribution for the crimes you and your cohort have committed.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t be considered crimes when we win.¡±

    How clich¨¦. His father must have rolled out a speech about how ¡®history is written by the victors.¡¯ Unfortunately for them the historical record was mostly written by socially-conscious historians, even if they could maintain significant levels of influence and wealth with widespread disapproval from society at large.

    My magic still wasn¡¯t back to the level where I could be confident with killing Charlie. The question was whether he understood that I was stalling for time or not, and if he could recover before then to turn the tables. My new trick saved me from his attack, yet the stalemate continued on unabated. I didn¡¯t like my odds of coming out on top.

    At least the half-hawk was gone. The sound of its claws scratching the marble had gone away and left us in peace. The revolver and knife were both lost in the chaos, even if that damn gun didn¡¯t have the firepower to break someone¡¯s skin at a distance. It was going to tickle Charlie before it killed him.

    There was no more talking. Our discussion elicited the sum total of shit-all sympathy from me. Brandon had indoctrinated his son good and proper. A stupid kid hyped up on the idea of being the one holding people¡¯s lives in his palms. He was living a story, a big stupid action movie where he could kill a lot of people and worry about the consequences later.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    In my past life I might have been seduced into walking a similar course, but I knew better now that there was no freedom from judgement for what we did. There were beings more powerful than us that watched over everything. It wasn¡¯t a stretch to imagine there was a world ¡®after¡¯ the one we inhabited too. They were forbidden from robbing us of our free will ¨C but did that movement for indifference apply when we were dead, or did they tally our sins and decide what to do with us?

    Durandia clearly didn¡¯t see matters as being so black and white. The fact she was open to sending a known quantity like me to quell her problem was evidence enough. If she was so morally upright then my spirit would have been banished to whichever plane of existence was reserved for us mere mortals.

    None of this mattered at all. Charlie saw his window of opportunity and leapt from the chair, rushing towards the door on unsteady legs and barrelling through it. He was calling my bluff and making a run for it. I gave chase, but I wasn¡¯t exactly in peak condition either. I was exhausted. It felt like I¡¯d just run a marathon.

    ¡°Get back here!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t kill me, you bloody arsehole!¡±

    He stumbled through the wreckage caused by his rampage to try and reunite with the group of armed men who accompanied him to the inner-sanctum doors. The only way this situation could get even hairier was if that group of goons started shooting in my direction. I didn¡¯t have a gun to fight back with and my magic reserves were close to empty.

    ¡°How about I pay you to bugger off?¡± I shouted.

    ¡°You can¡¯t bribe me either! Dad says we won¡¯t need dirty money when we¡¯re done!¡±

    ¡°Our money is perfectly clean, I¡¯ll have you know!¡±

    Rhetoric was wasted on him. I couldn¡¯t get him to slow down now. Normally most people would be chomping at the bit to get a big payday from someone like me, but Charlie couldn¡¯t conceptualize the value of money as an adult did, that or he was in too deep and didn¡¯t want to admit it. Inertia was an all-too powerful force in the human mind, it was why wars could be smouldering even while everyone involved wanted them to end.

    Too many sunk costs, too many flags staked on an inflexible position, and too many fanatics at your back who would revolt at the slightest sign of weakness. There was no space for redemption or a softening when that was lingering over your head. The cruelty machine kept spinning because of it, even if the one leading the charge had a change of heart.

    The walls closer to the big doors were still standing, obstructing my vision and keeping me from seeing where his friends were located. I skidded to a halt before we got there and hesitated to keep up the pursuit. This was a terrible situation to find myself in ¨C and it was all that damn bird¡¯s fault! Lady Luck had left me in the cold once again.

    ¡°Gun, I need a gun! Goddamn it!¡± I hissed.

    I dived into one of the rooms and closed the door. I could hear Charlie telling the others what to do. They were close.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s trying to stop us!¡±

    ¡°A guard?¡±

    ¡°No, a girl! I want you to kill her. We¡¯re going to get the key!¡±

    ¡°You still don¡¯t have it?¡±

    ¡°She stopped me before I could blow the door down! I don¡¯t give a damn about what happens to them. Kill the servant if you have to!¡±

    I locked the door from the inside and turned around. I was not inside the conveniently placed armoury that I¡¯m sure the palace contained, but rather a study, complete with a cosy stone fireplace and a large wooden desk. Did these people even need so many meeting, sitting and reading rooms? I suppose that was what happened when your prestige was partly measured by how uselessly huge your countryside manor was...

    My salvation was propped up over that fireplace. An old shield was displayed there as a piece of decoration, sporting the heraldry of the royal family, along with a pair of thin sabres. I grabbed one of the chairs and dragged it over to boost myself up, dislodging them from their binds and making sure they were the real deal.

    With the prevalence of guns these kinds of weapons were now mainly for show ¨C but the royal family didn¡¯t do forgeries either. The sabres were deadly and the shield was real. That also meant it was extremely heavy for a short teenage girl. I laid it over the desk and considered ditching it and just using the sword instead. How much punishment could it even take, could it block a bullet? If the other gunmen were using weak trash like that revolver ¨C maybe.

    I was going to have to get medieval on these assholes.

    The shield wasn¡¯t so heavy that it was completely worthless. I decided to bring it with me and hope that my estimation was correct. As I walked to the door, someone on the other side started to jiggle the handle to try and get in. I recoiled out of the path, with several bullets being fired through it by the interloper to try and catch me with a lucky shot.

    There was a brief respite while they reloaded their magazine. With the door wrecked, it was a simple matter for them to kick what was left through and invade my safe room. I charged at them with the shield held aloft. They reacted quickly and turned to shoot at me, but I managed to tuck the edge underneath their shooting arm and lift it into the air. On instinct they pulled the trigger. The bullet ricocheted off of the metal shield and hit the ceiling over my head.

    My other hand was already moving. The tip of the sabre I stole swiped across the front of his neck and caught the artery there. A lucky strike if I ever got one, because using a sabre was very different to a knife. It was difficult to estimate how far it could reach and the added weight made swivelling it using my wrist much harder.

    The real problem was what happened next. The man stared me dead in the eyes and didn¡¯t cover the new cut in his neck. Blood spurted outwards and drenched me from head to chest, covering my polite daywear in a thick layer of viscera. It almost got into my eyes and blinded me. I was forced to use the shield to keep it from getting worse.

    He staggered to the left and collapsed against the wall once the blood supply to his head ran out. He¡¯d only managed one shot using his gun before he met his end.

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    So much for the subtle approach. I looked like I¡¯d wandered blind through a slaughterhouse. My clothes were absolutely covered in the stuff, and it would make a grisly sight if anyone from the royal family found me. There was no time to worry about that though. A stampede of footsteps was heading to my location while I fretted about the mess he¡¯d caused by rudely bleeding all over me!

    I secured the leather straps tighter around my forearm and pilfered his newly-loaded pistol for myself, dropping the sabre near his body and preparing for their breaching action. Two more of them peeled away from Charlie to try and finish me off, and they must have assumed that their friend got me, because neither of them were fully ready for the fight they walked into.

    He was lucky that my aim was slightly off. The anticipation made me pull the trigger a few milliseconds early, but that was all the difference he needed. He fell backwards in a cloud of gun smoke, falling over a chair that was placed on the other side of the room and landing with his legs stuck up in the air.

    His friend took his example to heart and rounded the corner with his gun trained in my direction. He fired at me before I could recover from the kick of the pistol. I held the shield in front of me in the optimistic hope that it would be enough to stop it from ripping through my flesh and adding another lingering injury to the list. Sparks flew, and I felt no pain, so I was vindicated to some extent.

    I returned fire, the bullet striking his good arm and causing him to drop his revolver to the ground. Conscious of how little ammo I possessed, I moved up and swung the shield at his head, clattering him around the ear and forcing him to his hands and knees. A second blow to the back of his skull put him down with a nauseating crack.

    The other one was under the table!

    He forced out a pained gasp and unloaded every round in his magazine from his lying position. He must have crawled around the chair while I was distracted. I ducked down behind the shield again like a turtle, feeling my body and arms enduring the pummelling that came with each bullet impact.

    He wasn¡¯t happy about it; ¡°Piece of shit, worthless fucking ammo!¡±

    The first problem was the gun he was using. It was a Becker semi-automatic O20 ¡®Royal,¡¯ a horrendous piece of engineering made by a company that was sorely out of its depth when it came to firearm development. It resembled a Mauser in form factor, with a boxy magazine in front of the trigger, but with a much fatter barrel and a strange, uncomfortable handle that jutted out at a diagonal angle. Not only was it unreliable, inaccurate and difficult to hold ¨C but the large magazine box also held six rounds.

    Indeed, the people leading the company seemed to believe that the marketing advantage of having the semi-automatic mechanism and a box magazine would be enough to satisfy the Walserian consumer, despite the objective fact that it was worse than the cheap revolvers that could be found almost everywhere you looked. At least they didn¡¯t break when you tried to put bullets into them!

    I dropped the dent-covered shield and trained my gun on him. The man squealed and rolled away, trying to find some solid cover to put between me and him.

    ¡°Mercy! Mercy!¡±

    Mercy was in short supply. I put a shot between his eyes and left him dead on the floor. It took a moment for me to collect myself. The carnage was intense. The building was in tatters, I was drenched in blood, and now the bodies were starting to pile up too. It was a lot to process even with my decades of experience in dealing with stressful situations.

    Most of my jobs were a ¡®get in, get out¡¯ kind of deal. Gunfights were a sign that things had gone horribly wrong ¨C but that was flipped on its head now that I was in Walser. A gunfight meant that I was on the right path, even if it was not the one I wanted. I could count the number of battles that got this violent on one hand. This one was going to come back in my nightmares eventually.

    That Becker O20 could stay in his cold dead hands for all I cared. I dropped my trusty shield and pilfered their pockets for whatever bullets they brought with them, the usual routine when I was outgunned and unprepared. I had a revolver with twenty unspent rounds, and a good semi-automatic pistol with three extra magazines.

    None of the others came to chase me. They were too busy helping Charlie get the key to the big doors. There was another trick to their security. I couldn¡¯t see how a simple handheld key could open a pair of heavy, reinforced doors like those. A mechanism of some description, or perhaps magical assistance. The ideal outcome was that I would never learn the secrets of how they secured the sanctum, because I didn¡¯t want them to get the key in the first place.

    I used a handkerchief to remove the blood from my face and set out to frustrate their efforts once again.

 Chapter 176

    I hurried back to the room where the servant with the key was still hiding, expecting to stumble across the stragglers left behind by Charlie to guard against my pursuit. It never happened. I kept running and never once came across another member of his team.

    When I arrived at the room he was hiding in, the door was already missing and there was no sign of Charlie. I poked my head into the room to see what had happened, and my worst fears were confirmed.

    The servant who had been stonewalling their efforts to access the interior was dead. It didn¡¯t take a genius to figure that out. He was lying against the back wall with a trail of blood behind him. Several cuts and injuries suggested that he was standing in front of the door when Charlie blew it open, before they pumped a bullet through him and left him to bleed out.

    It was rather impressive how stubborn he was. Even in the face of an imminent threat he refused to sell out his boss. You couldn¡¯t pay for that kind of loyalty. He was someone the King placed a lot of trust in. Now the key he guarded was in their hands, yet we hadn¡¯t crossed paths again despite taking the most direct route. Charlie had thought twice about risking another confrontation. They were beelining for the security doors and leaving me for later.

    They were due a serious lesson in manners, leaving a noble lady waiting when a meeting was arranged in advance was a grave social offense. They were moving extremely fast. A powerful vibration rumbled through the floor and up through my legs like an earthquake. There was only one thing big enough and heavy enough to cause that kind of sensation.

    I couldn¡¯t wrap my head around how, but Charlie had run all the way here, killed the servant, got the key and returned to the door without allowing me to catch him in the process. The fight in the study wasn¡¯t that long ¨C he was hauling serious ass to try and open some distance between us.

    If they could open the door then Charlie could easily close it again behind them.

    That was the worst-case scenario. I couldn¡¯t keep abusing my nihility magic in this state. I could break through, but whether I stayed conscious afterwards was another notch of uncertainty on top of many others. The joke was on me this time. I spun around on my heel and dashed back the way I came.

    It was my mistake. I should have remained by the door instead of getting ahead of myself and rushing after them. A rookie error if there ever was one. Charlie had to go that way to complete his objective and I willingly ceded that advantage. The area outside of the secured doors was very exposed though. Winning a fight from there would be difficult, if not impossible given their superior numbers.

    Too many variables to keep track of.

    The red mist descended, physically with the iron-tinged mask that covered my face, and mentally as I entered crisis mode. The blunt application of extreme violence was the only solution that they understood, and the only one I could manage in these pressing circumstances.

    I charged headlong into the danger. When I arrived at the doors, they were already starting to close up again with the heavy rumble of an unseen mechanism. There was no time to waste. I rushed for the narrowing gap and dived through, rolling to a stop moments before it could crush me.

    My head snapped to the right. There was a man working the levers, and when he saw me his face dropped like a stone. I drew my pistol and shot him twice, once in the chest and once through the stomach. He fell down to the ground. He was still clutching the ¡®key¡¯ that they had killed the servant to get their hands on.

    It was no ordinary key. I could sense a magical wave coming from it. It was large and covered in a layer of brass, with thick pegs that slotted into an industrial machine placed next to the door. Kicking the body out of the way, I inserted it again and pulled the lever ¨C causing the machine to grind back to life. The doors caused the floor to vibrate once more as they slowly opened back up.

    I couldn¡¯t risk leaving one of the only escape routes closed with the odds stacked against me. There was also the possibility of the Royal Guardsmen coming to the rescue once they regrouped and dealt with the half-hawk outbreak. I wasn¡¯t confident about that one though, I could already see a dead body poking out from an open doorway further down the hall. Charlie was going to take whatever punishment they could dish out and blow them away with his magic.

    I pocketed the key to make sure they couldn¡¯t return and close the passageway. An isolated segment of the palace was what they wanted, so I had to deprive them of it. I wiped more blood onto the sleeve of my formerly-white dress shirt and prepared myself for round two of our cat and mouse game.

    Gunfire echoed through the long corridors. I followed my ears through the sanctum, stepping over the deceased and mangled bodies of the guards who attempted to stem their progress. One of Charlie¡¯s men wasn¡¯t so lucky and joined them in a bloody heap near one of the intersections. At least someone stuck around to try and protect the King.

    The sad reality was that they couldn¡¯t stop Charlie. He could blow his way through with magic and absorb their attacks without much risk of those injuries being his last. The Royal Guard prepared endlessly for this eventuality, or they liked to believe that they did, but practicing and doing it for real were different beasts. The number of eviscerated and hole-filled bodies I found along the way was evidence enough to support that.

    I finally found the men I was looking for. I could hear Charlie yelling up ahead, but he dispatched several of them to stop me in my tracks before I got the chance to interfere. I ducked into an open doorway and braced for impact as a barrage of gunfire came from down the way and stripped the plaster from the walls.

    I attuned to the magic in the air and tried to locate them using the draft blowing down the hallway. Everything was so big and exaggerated that it caused pretty powerful currents to travel through certain areas of the building when the doors were left ajar. I used a similar technique back at the start of the year during the ball.

    The picture I received in return was rather unclear. There were three men in visible range when I moved out of the way, but there were six signals that raised my suspicion now that they were out of sight. By chance the palace was built in a location with a low atmospheric magic level. Wasting what magic energy I had left on a sensory spell felt like a bad trade. It was easier to assume that there were a lot of bad dudes out there. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

    A brief lull in the firing squad gave me my first chance to respond. With that said ¨C poking my body out of the doorway and getting blown into next year was a horrible plan. I needed a way to isolate my foes and thin out their number, but options were few and far between.

    Forced to bide my time, I kept my ears pricked up for any hints about what they were doing. The marble floors always easily transmitted the sounds of shoes a good distance. They couldn¡¯t sneak up on my hiding spot without alerting me first.

    ¡°She¡¯s not coming out!¡±

    ¡°Should we chase her?¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t a way out from there,¡± one of them declared confidently. I reached behind me and jostled the handle on the door to check, it was locked.

    That was bad.

    While my mind was running a mile a minute, in reality there was very little action being taken in line with those thoughts. The time pressure was squeezing me from every angle. I had to break through this blockade and get to Thersyn before Charlie could kill him. The fate of the entire country rested on that outcome.

    ¡°Stop being a bunch of chickens and get her! One of those shots must have hit!¡±

    ¡°You first.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Son of a- you¡¯d better get behind me, then! You worthless shitpile!¡±

    Here came the brave and the bold. I counted four pairs of feet making their way to my position. I would have to do something stupid if I wanted to get the drop on them now, but convenient timing was the real hero of the day. An ear-splitting screech came from the entryway into the sanctum.

    ¡°It¡¯s that bloody half-hawk again!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not going to find its way over here. Let¡¯s hurry up and kill her-¡±

    He spoke the magic words, and thus did fate conspire to make a total fool of him within seconds. The skittering of claws against the hard floor made it obvious to everyone present that the half-hawk was making a straight run for our position. I tucked myself into a little ball in the cubby and hoped to all that was holy that it wouldn¡¯t spot me in the blind spot.

    ¡°It¡¯s coming right at us! Shoot the damn thing!¡±

    It barrelled down the corridor like a steam train ¨C rushing past me with enough momentum to bring a gust of wind along for the ride. With flared wings and a gore-covered beak, it cut an intimidating figure, filling the entire space from end to end with its huge wingspan.

    The armed men took aim and fired their handguns. They hit the great bird, but did nothing to stop it from crashing into them with bone-breaking force. I rolled over and peered around the edge of the indent to witness it with my own eyes. The two men in front were forced down onto the ground thanks to its chest hitting them from above, with enough of a thud to break skulls and maybe worse.

    They were the lucky ones.

    Those who were ill-afforded a swift knockout were instead clawed at by its front legs, which resembled the claws of an eagle. The man on the left got it the worst. The claws came down right on top of him, stabbing through his torso and getting stuck there. His body was brought up into the air with its next stride, before being forced down and bisected into two pieces. The man on the right was merely crushed under its weight and tossed across the floor like a ragdoll.

    It was carnage captured in an instant. The half-hawk continued on until it met the wall at the other end, smashing into it. Its rear half lifted up into the air from the force of the impact, its lion-like tail swishing aggressively from side-to-side. It was injured. Those bullets could still rip through the bare flesh of a half-hawk effectively, although they wouldn¡¯t travel far through the dense muscle and fat beneath the feathers.

    Getting caught and subjected to a similar fate wasn¡¯t my idea of a great time. These horny devils had caused a serious amount of damage already, and the only safe way to handle them was to find a secure room and hide until they went away.

    The half-hawk shook its head clear and swivelled in place to find where to go next. It limped down the left artery and out of sight. There were still more men waiting over there, but they must have done the smart thing and gotten out of the way too. Leaping from my hiding spot, I pilfered the pockets of the mangled bodies for whatever ammo I could find.

    The guy who met the hawk¡¯s claws was a ghastly sight. Even with my years of experience in killing people, that was usually at the end of a gun, and not via cutting a man in half and letting everything inside spill out over the floor. He was the only body I refused to touch during my search. Looking at it for too long made my stomach turn.

    One of Charlie¡¯s men was trying to get smart with me. The moment my fingers slipped into the jacket of the last corpse, a flurry of feet clattered against the floor. A heavy-set man jumped from behind the corner, half-hawk be damned, and tried to finish me off while I was out of position.

    I reacted on instinct, grabbing the corpse¡¯s collar and pulling him up whilst sitting down on the ground, transforming him into a makeshift piece of cover. Several shots flew through the air ¨C but only two or three hit the mark. More bloody explosions rippled through the battered stiff, painting me with a fresh layer of crimson.

    I pulled out my gun and used his shoulder to steady my aim, firing two back at him and striking him in the arm. He cried out and dropped his weapon. Caution prevailed, and he staggered away to try and bring more assistance, or simply to preserve his own life at the expense of the others.

    ¡°Get back here you son of a bitch!¡±

    I shoved the cadaver to the floor and scrambled back to my feet. My eyes were threatened by another dribble of blood. My sleeves were already soaked through with the stuff ¨C but what was a little more when it was already completely ruined? It made me wonder how on earth I managed to fight my way through the ball without getting blood on that expensive dress...

    Someone was approaching from behind. I turned and pointed my gun at them, only to quickly pull away to keep my finger from pulling the trigger. Of all the people in the palace, it was the one guy I wanted to see the least.

    Theodore had followed the sounds of carnage and found me in a compromised position. He stuttered to a halt in front of me, eye¡¯s widening as he took in the scene and my dishevelled appearance.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing here?¡± I barked.

    Theodore was frozen solid in shock. I looked every bit the unhinged killer, drenched in someone else¡¯s blood and wielding a gun in one hand. I jolted him back to life by snapping my fingers in front of his face.

    ¡°Answer me!¡±

    ¡°I was worried about my Father!¡±

    ¡°And what do you suppose that you can do if he¡¯s in trouble?¡±

    ¡°It would be ignoble of me to stand back and let them murder him.¡±

    ¡°There is nothing noble in the slightest in being gunned down like an animal by these... psychopaths. Would your Father be happy to learn that you¡¯re willingly placing yourself in danger for no good reason?¡±

    ¡°It seems like a good reason to me. And what about you?¡±

    ¡°I can handle this. I¡¯m the one with the gun here.¡±

    Theodore¡¯s brow furrowed. That wasn¡¯t enough of an explanation for him to be satisfied, but there was no time for me to offer a better one. It was easy to put myself into his shoes and imagine the line of thought he was treading down. Why was I covered in gore? Why did I have two guns? Why was I so insistent on rushing in head first and putting a stop to this madness?

    ¡°Wait a moment! You can¡¯t go and shoot those men!¡±

    ¡°Why not? It¡¯s not difficult.¡±

    ¡°That would be... you can¡¯t just... You¡¯re a noble! You¡¯re Maria Walston-Carter!¡±

    As utterly meaningless as that rhetoric was ¨C it was also the best distillation of the situation that he could proffer. It made no sense. Maria Walston-Carter would not be expected to kill anyone under any circumstance. To do so would be to cut against every idea other people held about her. In the face of that, to assert a fundamental fact was the only reasonable recourse.

    ¡°I am a lot of things, but do you suppose that now is the right time to enter a prolonged debate about what I ¡®should¡¯ and ¡®should not¡¯ be doing? It¡¯s far too late to get concerned about killing these crooks.¡±

    I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the corridor, into an open side room.

    ¡°I need you to stay right here. Protecting you as well as Thersyn is too much of a burden.¡±

    ¡°You need to tell me what¡¯s going on here! Where did these hawks come from? Why are you covered in blood?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need to tell you anything,¡± I snapped in response, ¡°You¡¯re a smart boy. It should be obvious to you that this palace has been turned into a veritable death-trap, all for the sake of killing your father.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because he¡¯s more popular than Ekkehard, clearly.¡±

    ¡°Would he really go that far for such a stupid reason?¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t a hypothetical, Theodore. We¡¯re living through it! If I spend any more time flapping my gums with you, they¡¯ll break into your father¡¯s room, slaughter the rest of the guards, and decorate the spiked fence out front with his decapitated head! And don¡¯t get me started on the chaos that would ensue once the news breaks!¡±

    Theodore was a good guy beneath the cold exterior and away from the high-tension crucible of noble politicking, but at the end of the day he was still as much of a toff as the rest of them. The image I was painting in his head evoked a bitter taste in his mouth and a forlorn scowl. Reading him was easy; ¡®why would you say such a distasteful thing?¡¯ Said as if it wasn¡¯t a very real possibility.

    Manners over substance. It¡¯d take work to break him out of that way of thinking.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see why you have to put it like that...¡±

    ¡°I am attempting to communicate the urgency of the situation to you. Stay here and make sure that you don¡¯t attract attention. It would be a terrible shame if you were hurt, or Goddess forbid, worse.¡±

    ¡°And what about you? I can¡¯t let a lady engage in this kind of violence.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t your choice to make-¡±

    I held the revolver aloft in my palm, hooking the guard with my finger.

    ¡°-I¡¯m the one with the gun.¡±

    I motioned to leave the room, but Theodore reached out and grabbed my shoulder.

    ¡°Listen to me for a second!¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have a second. They¡¯re moments away from killing your father as we speak.¡±

    ¡°The Royal Guard are capable of handling this!¡±

    Tired of his meaningless platitudes, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him close, pulling his arm over my shoulder and flipping it around into a painful lock. Theodore gasped in pain and got up onto his tip-toes in an attempt to prevent me from applying any more leverage and wrenching it free from the socket.

    ¡°You want to make something of yourself? You bloody sad-sack! Moping around and enjoying all this money isn¡¯t going to deliver you an easy solution. You get what you need and you go out and you make it happen. I¡¯m not sitting here and leaving it to anyone else, I¡¯m not going to cry and complain when I don¡¯t do my part and they screw it up.¡±

    I released him. Theodore clutched his arm and backed away. The sudden outburst of violence was the last outcome he expected. His noble interloper act would have gone over well with any other girl my age. In this circumstance ¨C I didn¡¯t want to hear it.

    ¡°Where the hell is your father hiding right now?¡±

    Theodore swallowed his pride and regaled a series of directions; ¡°Down the hall, to the left, straight on past the next junction, and another left to the private quarters. That¡¯s where he usually rests during the day.¡±

    ¡°Thank you kindly.¡±

    It was the first helpful thing the fellow had done since my arrival. Maria really did screw up his life when she started manipulating him in the original game¡¯s story. It goes to show how much of an impact a single choice can have on the people around you.

    Theodore did not try to stop me the second time.

 Chapter 177

    The last Royal Guards were putting up one hell of a fight at the entryway to Thersyn¡¯s hiding spot. When the chaos broke out they quickly excised the civilian staff members out of the sanctum and moved him to a secure location that would be difficult for any frontal attack to break into.

    This was a small-scale skirmish in the end, but the numbers didn¡¯t matter so much when everyone was trapped in an enclosed space and armed with guns. A small outside courtyard dipped into the figure of the building, allowing the royal residents to enjoy the fresh air without leaving the safety of this area. That formerly tranquil garden was a complete ruin, with bodies strewn around and one even floating in the shattered stone fountain.

    I was close to the scene of the fighting. More gunshots and shouts filled the air, before an earth-shaking blast caused some of the broken windows to fall to pieces around me. Ducking through the garden and across to the other side, I came upon the scene of where the most brutal violence occurred. The chokepoint the guards created caused several more insider plants to be cut down like overgrown weeds.

    The stench of blood and gunpowder hung in the air. I drew my gun and carefully crept through the hallway until I found the source of the explosion. Charlie blew a hole clean through the walls keeping them out of the chamber, leaving the guard¡¯s bodies battered and eviscerated in the process.

    There was too much dust and debris blocking my view. There was nothing left for me to do but charge headlong into danger. Tucking my head down into my chest I rushed down the hallway and through the now-opened gap in the wall, rolling through into an equally wrecked sitting room. Another pair of open doors peered into the adjacent bedroom.

    Charlie was pointing a gun at Thersyn Van Walser, who was pushed up against the foot of his bed with a furious scowl on his weathered features. That determined grimace gave way to shock when he noticed me lurking in the background with a gun of my own.

    Charlie picked up on it. He turned around, but he was still woozy and somewhat weak from casting his last spell. I dodged his first shot by ducking and moving towards him. Charlie couldn¡¯t reset his point of aim without swaying back and forth like a drunkard. Instead he pushed up his free hand and released a weaker attack using what was left of his mana. The air left my lungs and I flew backwards, smashing into a suit of metallic armour that stood vigil at the bedroom door.

    That really hurt!

    My back hit the sharp edge of the lower chestplate, cutting into my skin as a dull knife would. While I writhed on the floor and clutched the sheer line that ran across my spine, thankful that it hadn¡¯t broken the skin and caused a source of severe bleeding. The armour toppled over and collapsed into a pile of disconnected pieces on the ground next to me.

    Charlie¡¯s face rapidly switched from elation to fear. That was his last, best shot at putting me down. He wasn¡¯t convinced that firing a bullet would work, given my ability to wish them out of existence. He tried anyway. I snapped my fingers and broke the receiver in his pistol. The slide locked into place, and his frantic attempts to correct the issue caused it to fly off, leaving him with half a usable gun.

    With my stubborn self refusing to be killed, and his primary weapons disarmed for the time being, Charlie changed his approach. He drew a backup pistol from his belt loop and swept around, clutching Thersyn¡¯s neck from behind and pushing it against the side of his skull.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move! I¡¯m going to blow his brains out if you do!¡±

    Wasn¡¯t that what he came here for?

    Charlie looked very pleased with himself. I was confused for a moment. Why was he not blowing his brains out then and there and completing his objective?

    ¡°I¡¯m going to stop you,¡± I stated simply.

    ¡°As if. You put a single finger on me and your life will be over! All of that time and effort, and rubbing elbows with all of the other parasite nobles that are running this country into the dirt, it¡¯ll all be wasted!¡±

    ¡°What does that matter to me?¡±

    Thersyn tensed up. The cold steel of the gun¡¯s barrel was a constant source of heart-shredding fear. He could be as strong as he pleased when he was standing up for what he felt was right ¨C but that calculus always changed rapidly when your life stood in the crossfire. This was the first direct threat to his life in many, many years. His end was a single trigger pull away.

    ¡°You¡¯re all about appearances! I can tell just from the way you look! That hair, the makeup, the way you walk around like you¡¯re on eggshells. Look at you now; covered in someone else¡¯s blood and face to face with the former King. You¡¯re not going to do anything, and if you try I¡¯ll just kill him here and now.¡±

    That was what they came here to do in the first place, but Charlie had made a discovery that none of the other assassins could fathom. There was a strong chance that he would die here, and holding Thersyn hostage was one of the only ways to keep that from happening. He wanted nothing to do with my magic.

    I could see it playing out in my mind. He¡¯d try to make me hesitate through his new human shield, find a convenient exit, and pump a shot through his back before running away again. I was not going to give him that opportunity. I wasn¡¯t keeping this particular ¡®ace¡¯ in my pocket to never use it. Thersyn was simply too important to let die versus preserving my cover as a young noblewoman. Landon Sloan and the rest of his miserable slugs already knew I was involved anyway.

    There was the obvious issue that Charlie was dancing around. I was already soaked in blood and holding a gun in one hand. It was immediately evident to anyone with a working pair of eyes that I was not enjoying a leisurely stroll through the palace while all of this chaos was going on. Thersyn was capable of putting the pieces together.

    ¡°That¡¯s the difference between you and me,¡± I laughed, ¡°You¡¯re still all concerned about clinging on to how your life used to be. You came here to kill the King ¨C but now you¡¯re hesitating because you might have to sacrifice something to do it. Your life? Your everyday routine? Your innocence?¡±

    I pushed myself up to my knees and stared him dead in the eyes.

    ¡°All that time and effort won¡¯t be wasted. It can¡¯t be. I did all of that for a good reason, so that when I needed it most I could throw it all away and put myself in the right place at the right time. Maria Walston-Carter? That name doesn¡¯t mean anything to me. My reputation? My looks? My honour? They¡¯re all there to trick people like you into underestimating me.¡±

    The most powerful man in the country was in front of me to bear witness to the last act of Maria¡¯s normal life. This was not something to be held onto until the ¡®right moment,¡¯ because that line of thinking would lead to a fool missing it entirely.

    I was exhausted, physically and mentally, and my magic reverses had been depleted to the bare minimum. I only had one shot left at this, because I couldn¡¯t curve a bullet around Thersyn¡¯s body and hit Charlie even though I wished I could. It would have to be a magic attack ¨C and casting that spell would knock me out cold from mana deprivation. It had to take Charlie out of the picture.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do it. You¡¯ve used every bit of magic in you!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the same. That cute hole you blew through the wall is hardly a match for your best and most destructive work. You¡¯re worried about getting out of here in one piece.¡±

    Charlie gritted his teeth and applied more pressure to the trigger of his backup gun. I honed my senses and recalled the feeling that rushed through my body when I erased the ¡®space¡¯ between us during our first fight. This was a power that could go even further. If I were to entrap Charlie within a pocket of ¡®space¡¯ and delete what laid between him and the outside of the palace.

    ¡°Get out of my sight!¡±

    Charlie braced for another bolt of lightning, or perhaps for a raw concussive blast intended to fling him away from Thersyn without directly harming him. What he found instead was a novel and stomach-churning sensation. For a brief moment he found himself incapable of breathing. His vision blacked out, and his ears almost burst from a sudden and violent change in pressure.

    What he found on the other side of his incredible journey was the ground two floors below. He fell through the air and crashed into a thorn-filled bush that rested beneath the bar-covered window that was to his right before I cast my spell.

    It was like an airlock, or a railgun. I created a large vacuum space between Charlie and the exterior wall, sucking him inwards to the empty void before closing it behind as he went, propelling him through to the other side and releasing him back into reality. The other side of my makeshift portal dumped him back to the outside garden, where the hawks were still running amuck.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Of course, I was already halfway to the floor unconscious when this played out. Absent any better options I decided to delay our final battle for a while longer. It was more magic energy than I had to spare, and his sense of nausea was dwarfed by mine. Bile roiled up in my throat as the strength left my legs and caused me to slump onto the ground.

    Maybe Durandia had gone too far by giving me this type of power...

    <hr>

    I awoke some time later.

    The sounds of screeching half-hawks had died down at some point, warded away by the firing of weapons and the lack of fertile mates to claim for themselves. Charlie did not take a second bite of the apple, choosing instead to take what small pyrrhic victory he could and leave without killing Thersyn. That would make his father very angry indeed.

    It was impractical anyway. He would have to navigate through the gardens and palace halls again, which was incredibly dangerous with so many half-hawks running rampant. There was no doubt that being bisected by one of them would spell his doom, regardless of how much demon blood Landon pumped into him.

    I was laid out on the sofa in the study next to the King¡¯s bedroom with a cold, damp towel on my forehead. Thersyn stared at me and steepled his fingers, his face pensive and uncertain. He was unsure of what to say. I still looked like a madwoman, caked in blood and wearing nothing but a gore-soaked dress shirt and a skirt.

    ¡°Ugh! My head!¡± I groaned.

    ¡°Are you okay? I¡¯m surprised that you¡¯re awake so soon after casting... whatever that was.¡±

    I clutched my pulsing temples and coped with it as best I could. This was one hell of a hangover. No wonder they kept telling us not to overdo it with the spellcasting in class. Everything felt off. My mouth was dry, and I¡¯d lost my sense of taste and smell. My ears were still ringing, throwing me off-balance when I tried to rise to a sitting position.

    ¡°You really ought to rest some more before trying to move. I know very little about magic, but I assume bedrest is the best cure to what ails you.¡±

    I forced my body upright regardless of his concern and slumped back on the sofa. It was unladylike, but I was also still covered in dried blood and had exposed the entire fa?ade to the King ¨C so it was well past the point of being relevant.

    ¡°Are they gone?¡±

    ¡°Those beasts? Or the half-hawks they summoned forth to terrorize the estate?¡±

    He told jokes too. That was interesting.

    ¡°Both.¡±

    Thersyn nodded, ¡°They are gone. Warded away by the resplendent bravery of the guardsmen. I have tasked them with recovering the fallen and moving them to an appropriate place. I also had a doctor visit and check on you.¡±

    ¡°What about-¡±

    ¡°I removed the weapons from your person before inviting them into my chambers. I suspect that discretion is the better course of action in regards to this incident. We are the only people who have seen the truth.¡±

    He sat on the chair across from me and finally took a moment to calm his nerves. It was a brush with death that was entirely new to him. He might have been in dangerous situations before, but never so directly. Charlie could have pulled that trigger at any moment and ended him then and there. He was lucky that Charlie was more concerned with his personal safety than he was completing his objective. That miscalculation gave me the opportunity to stop him.

    I was reeling in a similar manner. These new spells I had conceptualized revealed the full breadth of the boon that Durandia granted us. Samantha must have possessed similar powers, as we were intended to be two sides of the same coin. Suddenly a new world of options was opening up before my eyes. Where were the limits of this ability? I didn¡¯t know. All I could conclude was that using those two spells on the spot was more than a lucky break.

    This was irrational magic, the type that the monsters in the Veil used. It didn¡¯t conform to the usual rules that one would expect in a physical world. Durandia had to get special permission from her peers to give us these abilities, presumably because they encroached on the realm of the ascended in some capacity. Xenia made it clear that they could not ¡®create¡¯ more of themselves without a good reason.

    ¡°Would it be too much to ask for an explanation of your actions? I¡¯m struggling to understand what happened. I was sitting here, enjoying a book, when I heard all kinds of terrible noises coming from outside.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to say. They launched an attempt on your life, seemingly with the assistance of some of the people under your employ.¡±

    ¡°But to do all of this! To risk your life and bloody your hands...¡±

    He couldn¡¯t accept that. There had to be a greater reason.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never been one to sit back and allow injustice to occur, and I¡¯m sure that you understand full well what kind of chaos would be unleashed across Walser should you be murdered by these unscrupulous fools. The type of mass anarchy that would touch every corner of society and leave none spared its insidious reach.¡±

    ¡°It is too high a burden for a child to shoulder!¡± Thersyn barked, ¡°I¡¯ve made many difficult decisions in my years, but I always sought to protect the future of our children. That was why it was so important to me to end the war as quickly as possible. The stresses of this cannot be overstated.¡±

    ¡°Even so, it is too late to rectify the issue now.¡±

    Thersyn¡¯s face dropped, revealing the deeply-carved wrinkles on his brow and around his eyes. He knew I was correct. The deed was done. The blood that covered my body was not my own.

    ¡°You needn¡¯t lose any sleep worrying about me. There are greater problems at hand that demand urgent attention. With Welt gone, those who remain in his wake intend to cause even more chaos than he desired.¡±

    Thersyn scoffed; ¡°It¡¯s abominable! This great wretched machine lurches on with no one man at the wheel to steer it. We are living in dangerous times. When blood is spilled, no amount of reason will dissuade the victims from seeking their vengeance.¡±

    Sloan was the man at the wheel. If I killed him, and maybe some of his friends, the organization would dissolve and we¡¯d be saved. He was correct that if things escalated to war then no one man¡¯s death would see an end to it. I had to stop it before it got that far. The massacre in the city did not fill me with renewed confidence.

    Thersyn was stumped about how to approach this discussion now that I had erected my rhetorical defences.

    ¡°Regardless of how I feel, I should thank you for stepping in saving me. Your bravery is admirable. If there is anything I can do for you in return, by all means ¨C please let it be known.¡±

    He didn¡¯t exactly have the legal authority to help me in a way that mattered. Getting a royal pardon for all of the threats and murder that I participated in would be useful, but that wasn¡¯t on the cards with Ekkehard occupying the throne.

    ¡°The only favour I could ask of you is to keep this between us.¡±

    Thersyn tilted his head to one side; ¡°You merely wish for my confidentiality?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not in need of more money given our family¡¯s good fortune, nor do I harbour any desire to join the royal ladder through some kind of marriage arrangement.¡±

    ¡°That is very unusual...¡±

    The doors to the room burst open. Thersyn leapt up from his chair and almost shouted the intruder down for ignoring his orders, but he stopped. It was Theodore ¨C not a meddling retainer who thought they knew best despite his clear red lines.

    ¡°Father! What in the Goddess¡¯ name happened?¡± Theodore closed the distance and hugged his father, ¡°I was worried half to death!¡±

    Thersyn patted his back, ¡°I¡¯m fine! It¡¯ll take more than that to be rid of me, I promise you.¡±

    Theodore¡¯s gaze turned in my direction. I still looked like I¡¯d been through the wars, but at least Thersyn managed to rinse away most of the blood using the washroom attached to the study and another bloodied towel.

    ¡°What did you do to them?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so sour, Theodore. Lady Maria was the one who stepped in at the crucial moment and saved my life.¡±

    I waved my hand at Thersyn, ¡°No, no. I need none of your help in this regard. By the time I arrived here at the scene, all of the gunmen aside from one had died in the gunfight. I believe a half-hawk took care of the others.¡±

    ¡°What did you do with that young lad?¡± Thersyn asked.

    ¡°I sent him outside. I can¡¯t quite explain how that spell works, even though I was the one who cast it.¡±

    ¡°He must have fled then.¡±

    Theodore was still confused about the sequence of events that had transpired. I had no interest in giving him a recollection of every detail. He shook his head, covered his face with his palms, and murmured quiet words to himself rather than asking more questions.

    I had a lot of questions too. I really wanted some space to test out the limits and rules of this new magic. It didn¡¯t make a lick of sense to me. Why was teleporting Charlie away less strenuous than annihilating his neck from long range? Killing him wasn¡¯t an option with my mana reserves in a horrible state ¨C yet I would have assumed that warping the fabric of reality would be more expensive!

    Before that, my dirty clothes would need to be changed out, and that meant getting in touch with Franklin and dispatching him to my temporary room to get them from my suitcase. It was unlikely I could truly get away from the palace without sharing what I¡¯d learned with the Royal Guard ¨C including the identities of the insiders who caused the chaos.

    Honestly, what the hell was the chef thinking? Was he tricked into believing that murdering the former King was the hot new trend and he was scared of missing out?

    ¡°I need to go back to my room, have a real clean-up, put on some fresh clothes, and maybe lie down for a few hours,¡± I declared.

    Theodore sighed, ¡°I think that your attendant is waiting by the doors, what¡¯s left of them anyway.¡±

    He wouldn¡¯t be allowed through into the sanctum. I willed my legs to move and wobbled to my feet, feeling my stomach do another backflip in response to the slight movement. This was no hangover. It was far worse than that.

    ¡°For goodness sake! You look like you¡¯re about to topple over at any second,¡± Theodore observed.

    ¡°If Franklin can¡¯t enter the sanctum, then I will have to go and meet him.¡±

    I didn¡¯t need their help or pity. I struggled my way to the door and started the long, tedious walk back to the front. Theodore wavered between following me and staying with his father, eventually choosing to follow and ensure his guest didn¡¯t break her skull open on the floor.

    The guards did some impressive work. An hour or so after the attack and the bodies were already taken away and stored somewhere away from the virginal eyes of the royals within. Theodore remained silent during the walk. When we finally got to the entryway, Franklin was pacing back and forth with a pair of weary guards keeping watch.

    ¡°Franklin, stop bothering the poor men already!¡±

    He snapped back to life, ¡°Oh! Thank goodness you¡¯re okay, Lady Maria!¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes! I¡¯m okay! Can we please get back to the room, preferably without anyone else being able to see me?¡±

    Franklin was already prepared, whipping out a clean towel and placing it over my haggard head as a cover. He led the way ¨C walking in front so that nobody could catch a glimpse of my blood-soaked clothes and knotted hair. Theodore continued to give chase the entire time. He was intent on getting some answers from me.

    The question was whether he¡¯d be willing to accept them.

 Chapter 178

    It was a huge relief to have a working bathtub and some fresh clothes. The stench of iron had settled firmly into the back of my nostrils and refused to leave no matter how much soap I used. I stepped out wearing a modest winter dress and an overcoat. Franklin was pacing back and forth in the middle of the room when I returned.

    Theodore was lurking outside of the bedroom door, his well-trained manners refusing to allow him entry to my private quarters even in a situation like this. I clapped my hands together and drew Franklin¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Take a deep breath and stop being such a worrywart. I¡¯m fine.¡±

    Franklin exhaled and calmed his frantic pace.

    ¡°What happened while I was unconscious?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The guards have been occupied trying to clean up the bodies and ward away those half-hawks, but I overheard some chatter between the chambermaids that some of the ladies in waiting have been escorted out of their quarters to be interviewed.¡±

    ¡°They must be the suspects from the smuggling operation. What worries me is that the other co-conspirators won¡¯t be on their radar, and I doubt that those ladies will be willing to sell them out without an iron-clad promise of a lesser punishment.¡±

    If that was even necessary in the first place. Nobles could get away with a lot of things they shouldn¡¯t ¨C and that was doubly true of the royal family. If they had anything less than firm proof of their involvement, they would likely walk away with a warning or a slap on the wrist.

    ¡°Did you tell them what you knew?¡±

    ¡°Of course not. The King is not going to dispatch a search party to arrest the chef based on a random accusation from the likes of me.¡±

    ¡°But what if he did?¡±

    Charlie was gone, their plan was in shambles, but in no way did this feel like a victory. If the chef was involved too then the level of infiltration across the palace was severe in nature. A huge number of the Royal Guard had been killed during the fighting, and it was possible that some of those deaths were by ¡®friendly fire¡¯ from those who had been bribed or convinced to join in. In essence - without the ability to completely remove the metaphorical tumour, the problem would only return in time.

    Picking off the chef wasn¡¯t going to change that.

    The looming feeling of incompleteness was irritating. I was about to leave the palace and head back to the city, yet that ran the risk of another attempt being launched on his life in the meantime. I couldn¡¯t sit here and babysit him for the rest of time though. Offensive action was required to find and eliminate Landon Sloan.

    Franklin moved the subject along after I refused to humour his suggestion.

    ¡°I imagine that this will serve as a good excuse to put the marriage process on hold and take our leave.¡±

    ¡°That it will. But first we have to deal with our persistent friend.¡±

    I marched over to the door and pulled it open. Theodore staggered through and inside with us, having leant against it during the wait. I slammed it shut behind him and locked it again.

    ¡°Say your piece, Theodore, there is no benefit to being coy with your words now.¡±

    He smoothed out his ruffled hair and collected his thoughts, ¡°So you mean to say that the person who fought those mercenaries at the gala was you?¡±

    ¡°That was me,¡± I confirmed.

    ¡°And at the theatre during the academy¡¯s visit?¡±

    ¡°Also me.¡±

    ¡°Is there any recent event that you didn¡¯t have a hand in?¡±

    ¡°That implies I was partly responsible for them, and not merely a prepared bystander who is always willing to fight back when the situation requires...¡±

    ¡°Surely it cannot be a simple coincidence. Don¡¯t try to pull wool over my eyes, especially when it refers to the safety of my family and peers.¡±

    ¡°That is the full extent of what you have to know. Naturally I was present at the party and the parliamentary visit simply because it was an activity hosted by the academy.¡±

    Theodore couldn¡¯t wrap his head around it, and he was right to question my motives because I was still lying to his face. The reason I was present at all of these incidents was because Durandia wanted me to be. She had planned for me to step into the role of anti-hero since before my death in the hotel.

    It wasn¡¯t a Rube Goldberg machine arrangement. Durandia knew me better than I knew myself thanks to the Red Tree¡¯s predictive power. All she had to do was find the right person and drop them into the right place, at the right time, and watch it all play out as she planned. The rest of her meddling was intended to assist us in achieving her goal through direct assistance.

    I suppose when looking through it through that lens, I retained my freedom of choice like they wanted to. I could sit down, fold my legs and arms and sulk until everything went to hell if I really thought it was the right course of action. The difference was that Durandia already knew that I wouldn¡¯t make that choice.

    Theodore didn¡¯t have context for any of this. From where he was standing I was a young noble teenager who was well-known for her looks and good breeding, who was now willingly engaging in some of the most violent, disturbing fighting that one could find.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t it... keep you up at night? I saw some of the bodies on the way to the sanctum and...¡±

    What was the best way to toe the line here? I frowned and tried to come up with an answer that didn¡¯t make me sound like a lunatic.

    ¡°It can be difficult to maintain my composure in the face of these stresses, and the obscene sights that follow the actions of violent men. Surely there will be some sleepless nights in the near future, but those pale in comparison to the duress one may endure if they stand idly by and allow these massacres to take place unbidden.¡±

    I never forgot the crazy shit I saw. That came part and parcel with the job, and desensitizing yourself to the brutality would shorten your career. Those were the types of people who turned it into a game, or tricked their minds into perceiving it as a non-issue. It¡¯d build up in the back of their heads like scar tissue until they couldn¡¯t handle it any more.

    Keep one foot firmly on the ground and accept that you¡¯re going to see some eviscerated bodies from time to time. Hell, you might even be responsible for a few of them if you use unusual means to see them off. It would have been so easy for us to drop that vulture capitalist asshole into the machinery when we pushed him for info about Welt.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    That was as plain a statement as one could hope to hear from Theodore. His aloof and cool attitude was nowhere to be seen. For better or worse he was being open with me instead of putting on a fa?ade.

    ¡°Is there a need for you to understand? Would those memories linger less bitterly if you could see into my mind and go through my decision-making process?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Everyone is different. They respond to stress and trauma in different ways, and that means there is no one correct method to distract your mind from these things. You should focus on comforting yourself in your own way, instead of hoping to decode every decision I make. It is not a blueprint to emulate.¡±

    Theodore sighed, ¡°Then I shall keep this incident between us, as you requested. It is unlikely that anyone would believe the true story anyway. Now that I think about it ¨C that is how you evaded discovery for so long. Hiding in plain sight, using nothing but your reputation as a shield.¡±

    And the small fact that there were no survivors most of the time...

    ¡°I suspect that this particular drama is far from over. I hope that the Royal Guard strengthens their security protocols for a while after this. They can¡¯t let people bring in whatever they please, like those damned half-hawk pheromones. Where did they even get those?¡±

    Franklin spoke up, ¡°The port in Gerside has extremely lax customs enforcement. Most illegal items slip into Walser through there. All they needed was a seller from a country with a less protective attitude towards their wildlife.¡±

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    ¡°Oh, I understand that much! I mean the extremely dangerous process of locating a female in heat and harvesting their bodies for it. The damage they can cause is extraordinary!¡±

    It was my first, and hopefully last, encounter with Walser¡¯s proud national animal. Those things were goddamn terrifying in motion, like a bulldozer rolling through the place and threatening to dice you into pieces with their claws. Fast, aggressive, and capable of flight too. Durandia was out of her mind inventing a predator like that.

    ¡°I hope the kitchen isn¡¯t going to be serving hawk meat for the next month,¡± Theodore murmured. They must have killed enough of them to scare the birds away while I was busy in the sanctum.

    ¡°I¡¯m certain that we¡¯ll enjoy a much longer talk about all of this once the chaos is over with.¡±

    ¡°Are you heading home?¡±

    I nodded, ¡°Yes. That¡¯s the best place to lay low and recover from... well, you know.¡±

    Theodore bowed his head, ¡°Then I will thank you once more for rescuing my father and see myself out. Stay safe, Maria.¡±

    It was everyone else who needed to stay safe from me. I chuckled and returned the gesture.

    ¡°I would do the same for anyone. Goodbye, Theodore.¡±

    He promptly left the room and finally gave me some space. While it was true that we were leaving by the end of the day, there was still some business to attend to before we rode our carriage back to the city. I had to expel all doubt and ensure that no bold attempts on Thersyn¡¯s life could be organized in the short-term, at least until I managed to find and kill Sloan.

    ¡°I want to know how many people are being held in the prison, Franklin.¡±

    He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, ¡°You never make it easy for me...¡±

    ¡°Because I know your natural charm is enough to loosen any pair of knowledgeable lips you find. I promise that this is the last favour I¡¯ll ask of you before we go.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that. You¡¯ll be asking me for more once we get back to the safehouse. Your father told me to keep you safe, and keep an eye on you, and it¡¯s starting to feel like entertaining your orders is only plunging you into even more danger.¡±

    ¡°Neither of us have a choice in the matter,¡± I said, ¡°I simply can¡¯t escape the gravity of what¡¯s happening. This is exactly where the Goddess wants me to be. I simply must have faith that it will all go my way.¡±

    The best way to do that was to fight and claw with everything I had.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can find out,¡± Franklin relented.

    <hr>

    Andre Amiens was in a mad hurry that evening.

    He had been at ground zero when the chaos broke out and the half-hawks descended upon the palace, killing many and sending the well-drilled guard into disarray. He was tucked away safe and sound inside of the main kitchen, away from any windows or large doorways that they could use to attack him.

    But his urgency now was not driven by the usual flood of challenging meal orders from his clients. He was not clattering pots and pans, and juggling three-dozen different ingredients simmering on different hobs. Instead he was packing away his favourite tools of the trade into a crate.

    He was supposed to be the only one there. The door was locked using his key, but it opened anyway and I stepped through to greet him.

    ¡°This is a nice kitchen you have here, sir.¡±

    He jumped up from behind the workplace and stared at me. Panic was quickly supplanted by a sense of relief. Even though a stranger was breaking through his perimeter, it was only a young girl visiting as a guest. Seeing an armed guard would be a much greater cause for panic.

    ¡®How did she get through the door¡¯ was excused away with his own reasoning. He must have forgotten to lock it when he entered.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid that the kitchen is off-limits to young guests, ma¡¯am. We wouldn¡¯t want any incidents occurring under my watch.¡±

    Practiced. Slick. Normal. It sounded good in his head. Staying the course would see him safely home, and from there he could forget about his worldly troubles. Although in truth there would always be that nagging voice in the back of his mind that one day the penny would drop ¨C and he¡¯d open his front door to find an officer there to arrest him for treason and conspiracy to commit murder.

    That was an unfounded fear. The head chef evidently wasn¡¯t on their radar, but he was on mine. I slowly walked along the tiled floor, the heels of my boots cracking against them like miniature gunshots. He did his best not to wince with each one.

    ¡°You seem to be in a hurry to go somewhere. Are they asking for the staff to leave?¡±

    ¡°No. I merely... wish to ensure that all of my expensive tools are kept in a safe place. I don¡¯t know when we¡¯ll be allowed to move freely again while they investigate.¡±

    I tittered, ¡°Really? It would be an awful lot of trouble to become a prime suspect over a simple cleaver, no matter how expensive it may be.¡±

    I drew closer ¨C standing in the middle of the aisle, and without touching any of the shiny surfaces that surrounded me. It was a modern kitchen, clean and pristine with all of the nice conveniences that came with new materials and construction techniques. They would capture any fingerprints I left behind.

    ¡°Will you be leaving us soon, Lady Maria?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s correct. Our carriage is ready to go, but there is one last matter I must attend to before I leave. It would be a gross mistake not to thank the head chef for his hard work. The food here has been consistently wonderful.¡±

    I was an arm¡¯s length away from him now. I could see the sweat pooling above his brow.

    ¡°Thank you very much. It¡¯s an honour to receive such high praise. Although, it is rare for anyone to take the time to find me in the kitchen.¡±

    ¡°Yes. With that said, I am much less impressed with your event coordination.¡±

    He tensed up, ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡±

    ¡°Your event coordination. I take it that you were intimately involved with concocting this idiotic scheme? One of your fellow assassins squealed like an overwrought pig when I pushed her for information. You¡¯re the only one who isn¡¯t being corralled by the guard as we speak.¡±

    There was the expression I hoped for. Pants shitting fear.

    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about, ma¡¯am.¡±

    ¡°The chef and his staff are always singled out as a major point of weakness in any security situation. It only takes a single sympathizer to slip something nasty into the food ¨C and who knows how much damage they might cause. Food testers can only go so far when the poison is slow-acting, but you didn¡¯t even manage that.¡±

    He turned and tried to run, but that was his last mistake. I snapped my fingers and suddenly he found the tendons in his legs disconnected from the bone. He fell to the floor and smashed his chin against the hard tile. He clutched his aching jaw and turned around, backing away using his hands.

    ¡°W-Wait! Wait just a moment! I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!¡±

    ¡°Results weren¡¯t fast enough for Sloan. He asked why you couldn¡¯t simply shoot the man dead and be done with it. You became nothing more than a mule, helping to shuttle contraband around the palace or offer information to your friends about what was going on inside of the King¡¯s sanctum.¡±

    The horrible truth of the matter finally struck Chef Amiens. This was not the type of talk to come from an ignorant teenage girl. I was accurately describing the thought process behind everything that had happened since my arrival.

    ¡°But I suppose that suited you just fine. Being a background player, slinking around in the shadows until the time is right, and then disappearing when the job is done. I do not like leaving loose ends.¡±

    ¡°Turn me over to the guards, then.¡±

    Andre bet on being released for a lack of evidence. I clenched my teeth and shook my head.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t do that. I can¡¯t allow even the faintest possibility of you retaining your position of employment here.¡±

    His eyes narrowed into daggers; ¡°You can¡¯t kill me. You¡¯re just a child! They¡¯ll have your head for murder!¡±

    He was buoyed by the fact that I was making no move to draw a weapon. There were no knives or cleavers within reach, and my hands remained behind my back during the discussion. He hadn¡¯t figured out how much damage my magic caused to his legs. Even if he survived it was unlikely that he¡¯d ever be able to walk normally again.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be murder. The guards will come through here in an hour and find nothing but a death from natural causes.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything!¡±

    His pleas fell on deaf ears. I held out one of my hands and lowered it towards his chest. Suddenly a valve in his heart disappeared and the blood started flowing in the wrong direction. His eyes widened as a sharp, stabbing pain started to emanate from the area I was pointing at.

    ¡°You should choose more wisely, whatever comes next.¡±

    He clutched his chest in agony and writhed on the floor. I stepped over him and headed to the other exit, moving out into the corridor and following a carefully planned route that I had rehearsed and studied earlier the same day. Nobody saw me leaving, and those who did spot me only saw me moving through well-travelled thoroughfares that split off into a dozen different pathways.

    It wouldn¡¯t be long before he died from that. His cries for help would not be heard, nor would they be able to heal him if they did. I kept a calm fa?ade despite the adrenaline running through my veins and returned to the front of the palace steps where Franklin was waiting with our carriage.

    ¡°Time to go.¡±

    An actual assassination! It had been a long time since I got to do one of those...

    It was impossible to ignore the horrible state of the city when we returned to the safe house later that evening. There were upturned carts around almost every corner, with protestors manning them, many of whom were armed and ready for a fight. The massacre at the plaza had stoked tensions just as Sloan intended.

    Samantha was waiting at the door with Adrian and Claude when I returned.

    ¡°Maria! You¡¯re back. What happened over there?¡± Samantha asked.

    ¡°It certainly met my expectations, both the stomach-turning wealth on display, and the frank violence of what Sloan attempted to do to kill Thersyn Van Walser.¡±

    ¡°So... you stopped them?¡±

    ¡°Yes. We have some breathing room now to take care of business. He won¡¯t be able to organize another attack like that before we get our hands on him.¡±

    I stepped past the group and headed up the stairs into the first-floor office. Veronica and Frankfort were waiting for me.

    ¡°I hope your field-trip went well,¡± Veronica said dryly.

    ¡°It¡¯s all in good humour until they kill Thersyn and plunge the nation into anarchy again,¡± I scoffed in reply, ¡°Have you two figured out where Sloan is hiding yet? We have a window of opportunity to end this charade once and for all.¡±

    I was only gone for a few days, but it felt longer with so much going on while I was there. Veronica and Frankfort were the best in the business ¨C so I hoped that they would use that time wisely to catch another lead for us to follow.

    Frankfort had what I wanted; ¡°As far as we understand, Landon Sloan has been hiding in the Gerswhiler Arsenal for the past week. It¡¯s a fortress ¨C but I suspect that we need not launch a frontal assault to get to him.¡±

    ¡°Can we sneak inside?¡±

    ¡°No. That would be risky and difficult. Landon hasn¡¯t been sitting silently in his chambers this entire time. They¡¯re working on something big. He¡¯s been sighted leaving under armed guard at various times of day.¡±

    ¡°And where does he go?¡±

    Veronica delivered the bombshell.

    ¡°The Henry Snow Museum. He should be there right about now.¡±

    They both looked very confused as the blood drained from my face. The Henry Snow Museum. The very same museum where Durandia had instructed the titular inventor to construct an etherscope, one which could effectively weaken the barrier between our world and the Veil and even enable contact with the deities beyond.

    What a funny little curiosity that machine was to the uneducated masses who walked through that lobby every day. One of his most ambitious projects ¨C stopped before it could come to fruition and challenge the rapid development of industrial machinery. They didn¡¯t have the faintest idea of how dangerous it could be.

    That son of a bitch couldn¡¯t be that stupid, could he?

    ¡°We have to go. Now.¡±

    Veronica and Frankfort chased after me.

 Chapter 179

    ¡°When did this start?¡±

    I removed the magnifying scope from my eye and handed it back to Frankfort. As much as I wanted to rush directly to the museum and stop whatever they were planning on doing with the machines inside, it was evident that Sloan had dispatched a large number of well-armed militiamen to guard the building. Veronica brought us to a nice vantage spot so we could check the place out before jumping headlong into danger.

    ¡°Three days ago, according to the people I spoke with. They moved in and started closing the building off to outsiders. Those guards have been on station ever since.¡±

    Samantha was the one who knew best. Around halfway through our mad dash to the downtown district did she make a noise that communicated her understanding about the threat that now loomed over us.

    Frankfort leant against the stone wall in front of us and crossed her arms, ¡°What¡¯s in that museum that¡¯s so important?¡±

    ¡°Henry Snow¡¯s Etherscope,¡± Samantha explained, ¡°It¡¯s a device that amplifies any magic cast while inside of the chamber...¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s going to cast some spells? There¡¯s clearly more to it than that.¡±

    ¡°Maria might have figured something out,¡± Sam shrugged.

    ¡°I did. The Etherscope is an interesting device, powerful even. I think what may be of interest to Sloan is the material that is used to create that high-energy field in the chamber. We already know that he¡¯s been gathering materials to study the summoning of demons for his soldier project.¡±

    Veronica scowled, ¡°And if he were to perform the same type of ritual inside of that chamber, or by removing the mechanism from inside and using a larger circle...¡±

    ¡°He could tear a hole in the Veil that would make the fort attack look like a joke, a mere blustery wind in the face of a hurricane-force gale.¡±

    The gravity of the situation settled in amongst the group. It was obvious now why I was in such a hurry to get here and put a stop to it. Durandia was the only one who knew what was about to happen, but that didn¡¯t mean that she was capable of comprehending the horror that was due to be unleashed. If there was ever a world-destroying threat on the horizon ¨C this would almost certainly match that description. The Alchemist was so powerful that it could transform anything it looked at into gold. What would happen if a similar ritual were conducted using the catalysing mechanism from the Etherscope?

    I was in no hurry to find out. We had to get into the museum as soon as possible and put an end to this madness. All this for the sake of enhancing soldiers with magical abilities that would simply kill them within a few months of ingestion. Sloan was so hyper fixated on cementing his name into the history books that he never considered whether such articles would be ones of universal condemnation.

    He¡¯d be lucky if there was a nation left to reckon with a disastrous legacy like this.

    The biggest question in my mind was Durandia¡¯s involvement in the process. She was the one who told Henry Snow to build the damn thing in the first place. If the primary concern was preserving the greater good and protecting the planet from destruction, then it would beg to reason that the Etherscope and Sloan¡¯s use of it was a necessary evil to avoid a worse outcome.

    ¡°Wait, he¡¯s trying to summon more of those horrible bloody things?¡± Claude muttered.

    ¡°Yes? He wants their blood to make more of those crazy mages for his new army,¡± Max replied.

    Another problem was that the entire team of side characters had decided to come along and witness the carnage for themselves. Adrian, Max and Claude couldn¡¯t exactly defend themselves if the infiltration turned into a firefight.

    ¡°Do you three need to be here too?¡± I asked.

    Max was quick out of the blocks; ¡°No. Not really.¡±

    ¡°Aw, come on!¡± Claude whined, ¡°This is the big climax! You can¡¯t expect us to hide in that dingy warehouse while you get all of the glory.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a glory hound! The entire point of doing this is so that nobody finds out that you or I were involved. I would very much prefer to live the rest of my days never thinking about this again,¡± I sighed.

    ¡°Even though you¡¯re so good at it...¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t accept any talk like that from you. You were the one screaming from the rooftops to anyone that would listen that I was a trained assassin a few months ago, but now you¡¯re pretending that you don¡¯t mind one bit.¡±

    Claude clammed up, ¡°That¡¯s... different. I forgive you because you¡¯re my friend.¡±

    Max rolled his eyes. That was so typically Claude that it summed up his entire personality in a single statement. That unwavering sense of justice was joined with a strong undercurrent of childish glee whenever something cool or dangerous happened. Claude assumed his amazing detective skills would come in handy when we stormed the museum.

    There wasn¡¯t going to be much investigating going on. I knew that Sloan was likely to be in there. All we had to do was break in, shoot everything that moved, and pick through the mess to find out if he was included. Destroying the Etherscope for good was also a distinct possibility.

    ¡°You¡¯re more of a liability than anything else,¡± Veronica chided him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve dealt with stuff like this before.¡±

    ¡°Can you fire a gun, or defend yourself? This isn¡¯t going to be a polite stroll through the museum. Everyone there is armed and ready to shoot at whoever walks into that building without permission. Even hanging back and keeping hidden might not protect you from a stray bullet.¡±

    ¡°I bet Maria¡¯s going to cut through those blokes so quickly that they won¡¯t even have a chance to fire back at her,¡± Claude scoffed.

    Max wasn¡¯t amused; ¡°Why don¡¯t you listen to the expert for once? I¡¯m not going in there without a good bloody reason.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we get the police to come help as well?¡± Claude continued.

    Frankfort shut him down, ¡°That¡¯s a no-go. We¡¯re past the point where the leaders will feel comfortable acting against the King and parliament, as rotten as they are. They only moved before because they were murdering people in the street. All it takes is the wrong person in the wrong place of authority to flip their intended function on its head.¡±

    Samantha was being unusually quiet. Her eyes drifted from person to person as the discussion bounced between us. There was something on her mind that she needed to say, but wasn¡¯t confident in speaking it aloud around the others. I put my hand on her shoulder and gently guided her away from the group.

    ¡°Keep them entertained, please.¡±

    Veronica glared, but said nothing.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Sam blustered as we approached a quiet corner of the layered urban park.

    ¡°Is there something you want to say? You¡¯ve been dancing on the balls of your feet this whole time.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only natural. You¡¯ve been gone for so long, I was getting worried about you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s very nice to hear ¨C but we¡¯re coming down to the wire now. It¡¯s no exaggeration to say that the future of Walser and the world is depending on what happens in the next few days.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s mouth thinned out in anxiety, ¡°I know the Goddess said that we were the ones chosen to do the job but...¡±

    ¡°Yes. I understand that it may lay a heavy weight across the shoulders of one who believes so strongly in her.¡±

    ¡°I learned something new about my regeneration magic the other day. When I think back to all of the books I read at the academy, they were heavily based in theories about winding back the clock or fusing tissue together. Those were simple literary devices intended to help us visualize how the spell should operate.¡±

    The books on nihility were much the same. The metaphor was more load-bearing in the learning process than one might expect. Magic was something that could be as instinctual or as scientific as we wanted it to be, it still followed the natural laws to some extent after all.

    What happened at the palace was a revelation to me. We weren¡¯t simply in possession of two rare schools of magic thought, Durandia had given us more than that. Our powers reached into the realm of the irrational. We had abilities that could warp the very fabric of the universe around us and create immensely powerful effects.

    ¡°When I was experimenting with some rubbish in the safehouse, I realized that I can quite literally do just that. I can turn back the clock, or fuse something together, and that even allows me to generate a dangerous amount of energy depending on what I use in the spell!¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I nodded, ¡°I¡¯ve had a similar experience. I can go beyond simply infusing an object with energy and making it disintegrate, I can erase them from existence. Space, air, and the things around me, it also allows me to shift objects from place to place. Xenia was pointing us in this direction when they spoke with us before.¡±

    Samantha thought about it for a moment.

    ¡°Perhaps Durandia gave us powers which she and her peers beyond the Veil use when maintaining their own worlds? The power to create and destroy, it¡¯s like the scriptures that my Dad always read to us.¡±

    ¡°I believe that may be the case. Xenia was upset because of the exceptions that they made to let her do it.¡±

    The blood drained from Samantha¡¯s face, turning her tanned skin a strange shade of off-white. Her mind was racing. She was thinking about all of the responsibility that was being hefted unto her by the Goddess, and the incredible danger posed by the powers she was given to complete the task. She could theoretically cause a nuclear detonation by merging the wrong rocks together, and so could I through a reversed version of the same process.

    ¡°Do you need to sit down?¡±

    Samantha shook her head, ¡°N-No. I¡¯m fine!¡±

    ¡°The question is, what possible purpose could these abilities serve in this situation? They¡¯re far too dangerous to be given to us as a means of self-defence. I suspect it may have something to do with what Sloan is planning for the Etherscope.¡±

    The nuclear solution was handed to us under the expectation that it would be needed. There was nothing on this planet that could withstand my base-level nihility attacks as it was, so what kind of incredible horrors was Sloan going to unleash that demanded even more than that?

    I kept my worries from Samantha. She was already starting to panic from the power she held in her back pocket, and revealing that the issue was going to get far worse before it got better was not going to ease her nerves. The more hopeful take on the problem was that these two abilities were to be used for an incredible specific purpose, and not as a means of killing horrors beyond our human comprehension.

    What could Sloan possibly have in mind that needed god-like powers to fix?

    First, I needed to calm her down. I reached out and took one of Samantha¡¯s calloused hands into mine, clasping it between my palms and transferring some of my heat into her body.

    ¡°Don¡¯t panic. I¡¯m right here with you. Just focus on what you know you can do instead of worrying about what you can¡¯t. A lot of horrible incidents have occurred, and we¡¯ve been in mortal danger every time, but we¡¯re still here.¡±

    Samantha¡¯s brow rose at the display of companionship. It was the friendliest I¡¯d ever been with her. I put up with her stories about the farm and hung out with her during lunch break, but physical displays of compassion were entirely new. She wanted to cherish every second of it. She wrapped her other hand around the bundle and gripped it tight.

    ¡°Alright. When you say stuff like that, I can¡¯t help but feel confident all of a sudden.¡±

    She thought I was always confident? That was bad. I was getting too reliant on being the ¡®main character.¡¯

    We headed back to the group, where Max and Claude were still arguing back and forth about coming with us to the museum. Claude had gotten the idea in his head that he was the main character instead, with all of the privileges that it came with.

    ¡°We¡¯ve survived stuff like this before.¡±

    ¡°You got shot through the crotch and almost bled to death! You were lucky that Samantha was there to patch it up!¡±

    ¡°Everyone has to go through a little adversity from time to time, that¡¯s how every good story is written.¡±

    ¡°Adversity? The only adversity you¡¯ve been through since then is coming up with a good lie to tell your parents, and you didn¡¯t even do a good job of that.¡±

    ¡°I got us that evidence, didn¡¯t I? That has to count for something!¡±

    I cut in, ¡°I¡¯m afraid that Maxwell is correct. Bullets do not discriminate, and they do not respect your sense of self-importance either. The museum is heavily guarded on all approaches, and they¡¯ll have been instructed to shoot anyone who tries to enter the building.¡±

    I learned my lesson from our invasion of Welt¡¯s tower weeks before. Even when I thought the place was clear one of those mage cockroaches had to crawl out of the timbers to try and murder one of them. It was a risk I was not going to take a second time. The problem was that Samantha would have to come with us and Claude was not going to be happy about being left out.

    ¡°You should be grateful that you¡¯re not forced to run into there,¡± Max reasoned, ¡°Not like the rest of the team. Why don¡¯t you sit this one out and pray for them instead?¡±

    Claude laughed, ¡°Pray for them? The Goddess herself descended from the bloody sky to make all of this happen. What good is our prayer going to do?¡±

    For once Claude made a good point. Everything was out in the open in relation to our divine guidance thanks to Xenia¡¯s little leisure visit.

    ¡°Maybe you should take that to heart and realize that Maria and Samantha are the ones who¡¯ve been picked for it,¡± Max fired back.

    Claude bit his lip and exhaled. There was a lull in the debate, during which time he turned his attention to Samantha.

    ¡°Are you okay with this?¡±

    Samantha smiled and nodded, ¡°My dad would never let me live it down if I backed out now. I¡¯ve got a responsibility to see this through, and I kinda¡¯ like living in Walser as well. The Goddess thinks that this Landon fellow is going to cause an almighty mess of things.¡±

    This was for the country she grew up in, and believed in, and the one where her family and friends were living. Her motivations were purer than mine could ever hope to be. The divide between my selfishness and her selflessness was never clearer than it was right now.

    ¡°If she¡¯s going to go, why can¡¯t we?¡±

    Max grabbed his shoulder and squeezed hard enough to bruise; ¡°You are not going into that museum. I¡¯m going to wrestle you to the ground and tie you up if you even think about it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll help,¡± Veronica grinned.

    Claude meekly backed away before they could get their hands on him, settling the debate once and for all. It was going to be me, Sam, Frankfort and Veronica. But there was still the looming question of how we were going to get inside of the museum without being badly outnumbered and outgunned.

    We needed a weak point to exploit.

    <hr>

    ¡°Are you all as worthless as I think you are? How in the name of all that is holy are you being bested by a mere teenager! She should have been dead weeks ago, but now she¡¯s running roughshod over our plans and foiling you at every bloody turn!¡±

    Nobody in the room had ever seen Landon Sloan like this before. He was furious; red in the face with bulging veins and bared teeth. It was an all-hands-on-deck meeting before they launched the most important stage of their scheme. The success of their takeover was riding on this, not just so they could secure the internal security of Walser, but also so they could destroy their rivals in Avatria and secure a strong popular mandate that would silence their doubters.

    Nothing rallied people around the government like an easy victory.

    So why was it anything but easy? Why were his men, who were heavily armed and transformed into nigh-invincible killing machines with incredible grade six magic powers, being foiled by a mere teenage girl? Landon couldn¡¯t comprehend it, and as a man of reason his only recourse was to believe that every person who failed to kill her was a bumbling idiot taking advantage of the deal he offered them.

    Jonas Rentree and Jerimiah Vincent were also in attendance to play peacemaker, although there was no peace to be negotiated with Landon going postal and hurling virulent insults at the men who remained. Darin thought he was the one who suffered the most indignation after his team¡¯s failure at the academy, but it was nothing compared to the vitriol being spewed into the room like toxic smog.

    ¡°Can someone explain this to me? How could you possibly be so incompetent so as to lose again and again to this little girl?¡±

    The room was dead silent. A dozen mournful faces sat around the table in the centre, including Charlie and the remaining enhanced soldiers. Darin was the one who spoke up to explain the problem.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t any normal girl. She¡¯s gunning people down in droves, getting into places using her clout as a noble, and she knows about everything that we¡¯re doing. I can¡¯t bloody explain it either. The only explanation I can think of is that those WISA bastards trained her from birth to do this.¡±

    Landon scowled, ¡°WISA already told me that they shuttered that program years ago, and even if they hadn¡¯t she wouldn¡¯t have been chosen. They only selected girls from orphanages or poor families.¡±

    ¡°So do you suppose that it¡¯s all luck? Even if we¡¯re as incompetent as you think we are, she¡¯s been fighting off groups of two dozen people on the regular without breaking a sweat!¡±

    Rentree crossed his arms, ¡°Do you suppose that WISA is still hiding information from us? It¡¯s obvious that she is highly trained and skilled in the art of subterfuge. She¡¯s also working with Gladwell and Frankfort, perhaps they were her handlers even before they were forced out of the agency.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care how it happened, or who¡¯s responsible, or about her life¡¯s fucking story! I want her dead. I want you to bring me her head on a bloody platter so I can be sure that you worthless pricks actually did what I told you to do!¡± Landon ranted.

    The audience concluded that no constructive discussion with Landon was going to be possible for the next few hours while he stewed in a broiling pot of his own fury.

    ¡°All you have to do is make sure that nobody gets into this building for the next twelve hours. That¡¯s all you have to do! Do you understand me?¡± Landon begged.

    A murmur of agreement came from the men. He smoothed out his hair and left the room in a huff, with his son in hot pursuit. Charlie couldn¡¯t get a word in, with Landon marching down the marble steps and into the main showroom where the Etherscope was located.

    His loyal Scuncath was feverishly sketching out the final lines on the summoning circle. The exterior of the great machine had been stripped away, leaving only the catalytic coils and other mechanisms. The goal was not to generate a hyper concentrated field of energy inside of the chamber, and it was too small to contain the type of circle they wanted to create.

    ¡°Is it nearly ready, Dean?¡±

    ¡°A-Almost. It¡¯ll be an hour or so, I think.¡±

    Charlie eyed the demonic circle wearily. It was made from blood taken from volunteers and a local hospital. The stench of iron hung heavy in the air.

    ¡°Are you sure this¡¯ll work?¡± Charlie wondered.

    ¡°It has to. The fate of Walser depends on our success here and now. This will be what the people really remember us for! Not only for revolutionizing warfare and making Walser unparalleled in the field, but also for this...¡±

    Landon pointed to the table placed beside the modified machine. Atop it was a metal frame, and within it was a large, blood-red crystal that pulsed with energy. The harsh, geometric shapes and symmetrical edges suggested that it was an artificial construction. Charlie approached the strange object and tried to figure out what made it so special.

    ¡°This crystal, what does it do?¡±

    ¡°It may be the single most expensive item either of us ever lay eyes on. A crystal of this size costs millions and millions and millions of marks, but it is also one of a kind. Soaked in the blood of the demons until it contains enough energy to power every city in the nation for a decade without losing its shimmer. It is the key to the other side.¡±

    ¡°Those cultist maniacs didn¡¯t use one of these before, did they?¡±

    Landon chuckled, ¡°Oh no. They saw the practice as dogma, not science. They believed that a living sacrifice who held a strong association in the minds of the masses was the most potent tool of all. My experiments in the field have proven otherwise. This is a beacon. A bounty of riches that those demons will not be able to ignore. They¡¯ll pour through my gate to the slaughter, and we¡¯ll concentrate their gore into a serum that will take the world by storm.¡±

    Charlie looked back at the machine and wondered to himself how that was going to work. There were no great storage tanks for the blood they gathered, nor a safe place for the beasts to be corralled and killed. There must have been a secret to the procedure that his father simply didn¡¯t feel like explaining.

    ¡°If that Walston-Carter scum comes here again, it¡¯ll be the last time she ever interferes with you, Dad.¡±

    Landon¡¯s rage fizzled out. He put a firm hand on his son¡¯s shoulder and nodded, ¡°That¡¯s what I want to hear. Do me proud, will you?¡±

    Charlie was determined to do just that. It was the only thing he ever really wanted.

 Chapter 180

    Our objective was simple; break into the museum and put a stop to Landon¡¯s schemes before he accidentally destroyed reality and unleashed a horde of demons onto the world. Landon wanted their blood for his super-soldier program, and a consistent supply at that. The ones that died in combat and from the degradation of their bodies would have to be replaced somehow. He couldn¡¯t pick the bones of that old corpse from the railyard forever.

    His dream was to industrialize the process. Factories would take the blood squeezed fresh in local slaughterhouses using similar Veil-breaching devices and dilute it into a form that could be injected into thousands of willing soldiers. His name would go down in history, if not entirely for the right reasons.

    Walser would potentially roll over its enemies from antiquity and establish an empire that spanned the continent. It sounded easy when men like Rentree and Sloan said it ¨C but there was more to war than having the toughest soldiers. An effort like that would transform Walser into a war economy and demand effective leadership to see off a coalition of every major nation.

    These guys were tough, but were they ¡®artillery shells landing on their dugout¡¯ tough? The strange properties of the blood wouldn¡¯t stop them from being ripped limb from limb like I saw with the half-hawks. Modern warfare involved a hell of a lot of explosives. Many casualties occurred before they ever saw the enemy across the trench line.

    I was getting off-topic. I doubted that a conventional war between major powers was enough to elicit notice from Durandia. She had bigger problems to worry about than the universal follies of man. Her concerns started and ended with what Landon was planning to do. If her goal was to protect the integrity of this universe and the Veil, she was right to be worried.

    The Etherscope was a necessary evil for speaking to us through the Veil, but Durandia was willing to put it into Landon¡¯s hands in this case. The calculation must have been that Landon would have achieved this goal if she left him to his own devices, so adding us to the mix and making it easier for him would ironically result in the best outcome. Such things were possible with an esoteric machine that could accurately predict the future.

    Soon it would be time for Samantha and I to fulfil the mission that Durandia gave us, and I was counting down the seconds until she decided that unleashing me was every bit as dangerous as allowing Landon to make his idiotic demon farm. I bristled somewhat at the thought of being compared to him and his lack of common sense.

    I was back to warbling between thinking she had the right idea and wanting to cling on somehow. The only problem was that my pampered noble hands were far too short to box with a genuine goddess.

    Back to reality; we still needed a good way to get into the museum.

    Sneaking in with Max, Claude and Adrian on top of everyone else was going to make life too complicated for no return. The boys, except for Claude, were happy to sit this one out and leave it to the professionals. They didn¡¯t know why Samantha needed to come with me, but I was the one giving the orders so they fell in line and accepted it without a fight.

    Landon Sloan was taking no chances this time around. There was an armed guard at every entrance, men stationed on the street corners as early warning scouts, and even four men on the roof to prevent future-facing aerial assaults. The museum¡¯s architecture was problematic to that end. It stood alone in a small plaza with no buildings rubbing shoulders with it, so we couldn¡¯t clamber through next door¡¯s window or jump across the rooftops. Nor were there any convenient underground passages that the architects included for no good reason.

    ¡°We should find an isolated guard and eliminate them,¡± Veronica posited, ¡°From there we can gain access to the building. A subtle approach will serve us well when we¡¯re this badly outnumbered.¡±

    I frowned, ¡°That depends on how many people are inside. The building is tightly packed outside of the main chambers. If Sloan has rammed the place to the rafters with every man he trusts to hold a gun...¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t work. He¡¯s on war footing. We can¡¯t expect you to slip inside using your name and reputation as an excuse either.¡±

    ¡°I could use my magic to teleport us through one of the exterior walls. It would have to be a spot we¡¯re confident with, and it might cost a lot of my energy to transport all four of us at the same time.¡±

    ¡°Is that a worthwhile trade? Your magic is extremely effective against those demonic killers of his.¡±

    ¡°A few bullets to the head are enough to kill one of them without magic.¡±

    ¡°You make it sound so simple. You¡¯re not going to get a chance to do that in the middle of a real firefight. That¡¯s why they teach you to aim for the centre of mass.¡±

    I smiled coyly, ¡°Oh. Is the experienced intelligence officer afraid of missing her shots?¡±

    ¡°Is now really the time for jokes?¡± she responded briskly.

    Frankfort and Samantha watched our back-and-forth with curious expressions.

    ¡°They really are mother and daughter, aren¡¯t they?¡± Frankfort sighed.

    ¡°They¡¯re like two peas in a pod. It¡¯s funny how it isn¡¯t just how they look, but the way they speak with each other. It¡¯s hard to believe they¡¯ve never met.¡±

    We eventually settled on Veronica¡¯s approach. It would be easier for us to find an isolated guard on one of the entrances and take care of them versus teleporting four people through a solid wall and exhausting myself off the bat. I¡¯d only had a short time to rest and recover since all of the trouble at the palace. I would prefer to have delayed any assault on the museum by a few days ¨C but that was not an option.

    Samantha also refrained from asking us to take a non-lethal approach to this problem as she had once before. There was simply no credible way to do it, and she was savvy enough to know that hobbling ourselves with self-imposed restrictions for the sake of her squeamishness was a horrible idea.

    Veronica would lead us to the door of her choosing.

    ¡°Are we ready?¡± I whispered.

    Samantha, Frankfort and Veronica nodded in agreement. Veronica took off, briskly walking across the street. There were scouts positioned at the corners of the block that surrounded the museum, so we needed to avoid them. We found an open gap in the net and approached the main building on the side with the least windows.

    The museum was one of the biggest buildings in the city in terms of square footage, and it was four stories tall on top of that. The front had a set of marble steps and matching Greco-Roman pillars, along with big arched windows that let light flood into the reception and main showroom. The back side was lined with glass doors, normally covered with red curtains to keep people from spying on what was happening in the rear.

    The best angle of approach was from the western side. It had the least number of windows for the guards to see us from. We paused at the corner of the neighbouring building and made sure that nobody was watching as we approached. The men on the roof weren¡¯t actively looking down at ground-level to catch intruders, they¡¯d left that responsibility to the doormen.

    ¡°They¡¯re looking very relaxed,¡± Veronica whispered.

    ¡°He hasn¡¯t exactly been hiring the best help for this project,¡± I replied, ¡°It may well be that the police and military officers refused to dispatch men to protect a non-critical location.¡±

    Ekkehard was on Landon¡¯s leash but that didn¡¯t mean they would always see eye-to-eye on how to operate the levers of power. Landon was in a rush to complete his demon factory as soon as possible. If there were people obstructing his attempts to deploy professional guards to the museum then he would have to fall back on his private forces. This was why Welt wanted them ready in the first place.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    We skittered to the side door. Veronica and Frankfort covered me while I jiggled the lock open using my tools. Not the best place to house your experimental demon-summoning machine, but it was never built to handle a sustained assault from a talented thief in the first place. I could hear footsteps, or some other type of noise, coming from the other side.

    ¡°You do it, Veronica.¡±

    I stepped aside and she swept in, taking a hold of the door¡¯s edge and prepping for the fight. She waited a second, located where the guard was based on the location of the sounds, and dashed in to take care of him. I followed and covered her rear, only catching the tail end of her slamming his head into the nearest wall and wrapping around him, choking him out until he fell unconscious on the floor. She pulled out a set of cuffs and restrained him using the nearest utility pipe.

    Samantha poked her head in after us, ¡°How long is he going to be asleep?¡±

    ¡°Long enough,¡± I shrugged. He was lucky that Veronica didn¡¯t shank him dead.

    We had to knock some pieces off of the board before trying to destroy the Etherscope. It was obvious even from the outside that the first floor overlooking the show space was heavily patrolled by armed guards. It was an easy vantage point to shoot from, so that was where the patrol patterns were the most concentrated.

    The biggest concern was what remained of Landon¡¯s first batch of soldiers. I had bumped off a lot of them over the past month, but there were many, many more who flew under the radar and remained concealed within their dispatch posts. That plan was in the rubbish bin now and they were free to fight whenever and wherever Sloan ordered them to.

    Samantha was coming with me. Frankfort and Veronica were splitting off to mop up their own floors and try to spread the damage as quickly as possible. We wordlessly moved through the tight corridors of the backstage area and found a stairway that led up to the first and second floors.

    Frankfort kept going straight ahead, Veronica got off on floor one, and we took floor two.

    ¡°This is going to be disturbing,¡± I warned her.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to go and hide in some cupboard! Let¡¯s get on with it.¡±

    What would happen if Sloan got his way was far worse too. A part of me was hoping that Samantha didn¡¯t completely submit to my sense of cynicism. There was something refreshing about someone who believed so firmly in a ¡®better way¡¯ of doing things.

    The second floor consisted primarily of offices and smaller exhibits. There were glass cases lining the walls, filled to bursting with images and displays, and various objects that Snow used over his illustrious career. We stumbled across our first two targets peering through the reflective surfaces.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we just smash this place up and steal this shit?¡± one of them wondered.

    ¡°Are you kidding me? Who in their right mind is going to buy an old hammer? They can go down to any smithies and get a brand new one. They¡¯re only in this museum because that Henry Snow bloke used them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah! And that means they¡¯re more valuable, stupid!¡±

    ¡°And what do you reckon happens when you sell this on to a noble, or whoever, and you tell them that you stole it from this place to make the sale? The police will be round your house to have a good long chat soon enough.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t tell ¡®em I stole it.¡±

    ¡°Then they¡¯re not going to buy it! It¡¯s just a random bloody hammer if you don¡¯t tell them where it¡¯s from!¡±

    The sound of gunfire coming from a lower floor startled them both, and I took that as my signal to strike. I popped up from behind one of the floor cabinets and fired at them. Two clean shots went through the first goon¡¯s chest and splattered blood all over the display. The second man couldn¡¯t react in time. I shot him in the stomach and once more in the dome. They both fell into a heap out of sight.

    That was a lot gorier than I anticipated. Samantha popped around the corner to see blood running down the glass pane and onto the wooden ledge below. She grimaced and averted her eyes.

    ¡°Goddess above.¡±

    ¡°She was the one who asked for it,¡± I quipped.

    ¡°I suppose it shouldn¡¯t come as a shock that the Goddess is hardened to the nature of man...¡±

    The noise attracted another guard from the other side of the room. I pulled up my sights and took aim ¨C striking him in the chest and cutting him down before he even had a chance. Samantha flinched at the incredibly loud noise.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to go deaf listening to this!¡± she complained. She ducked out of the way before the next man came running, only for him to meet the exact same fate. I stepped closer to the door and kicked his body over, discovering that he was one of the same assholes who invaded the academy to try and hold all of the kids hostage as leverage.

    What a waste of time. They rolled over for the new King anyway.

    ¡°Where are the demonic soldiers?¡± I worried aloud.

    I really hoped they weren¡¯t all on the other floors. Veronica and Frankfort were going to struggle to kill them. They needed to land a few solid shots to the head to stand a chance of putting them down, but they only needed to land a single lucky shot to put them on the floor with a bleeding wound.

    I didn¡¯t have time to waste thinking about it. I could hear a stampede of footsteps approaching from outside. I reloaded my pistol and pocketed the mostly-empty magazine for later. I racked the slide and gripped it tight, stepping through the door and into the hallway on the opposite side.

    I was immediately met with the sight of Darin and a gaggle of his remaining men. There was no grand speech or recrimination between us. I pulled the trigger and unleashed hell into the group, killing another two before they could raise their guns and fire back in response.

    The survivors scrambled for cover, almost tripping over the dead bodies in their way as they found doorways and corners to conceal themselves behind.

    ¡°It¡¯s Walston-Carter! Be careful!¡± Darin called out.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just drop those guns and go back home?¡± I offered, ¡°Because none of you are going to survive this!¡±

    ¡°Shut up!¡± he barked back.

    I turned on the heel of my boot and grabbed Samantha, walking away from the door that they were all watching in the hopes that I would poke out and get destroyed by their firing squad. Picking a fight you couldn¡¯t win was a stupid idea ¨C so I simply chose not to and repositioned while they were getting their shit together.

    There were a lot of ways to outmanoeuvre the competition in these tangled halls. I could have destroyed the barriers blocking my way with magic if I so pleased, but I wouldn¡¯t have to use my energy reserves to put these rubes six feet under. At least one of the men was worried about a flanking attack. He put his body in the line of fire to make sure that I couldn¡¯t sneak up and slaughter the lot.

    ¡°Crap!¡±

    Bullets whizzed past my head and tore into the plaster wall that was behind me. Samantha squealed and backed away, having followed me blindly out into the line of fire.

    ¡°Stay back!¡± I implored her, ¡°Don¡¯t stand directly behind me!¡±

    Samantha nodded and skittered away on her hands and knees. The man who was on watch called out to his allies.

    ¡°Spread out! She¡¯s trying to get around us!¡±

    One of them was ahead of the curve. My attempt to move around that corner again and shoot at them was interrupted by a disparate member of the group arriving late to the scene from dead ahead. It took him a second to aim the bolt-action rifle he was holding. I couldn¡¯t destroy the mechanism from so far away without wasting a huge amount of energy.

    It was a split section decision. Focusing my senses, I pulled myself into an empty space in reality and blinked to the right. His shot flew through the empty space where I was kneeling a moment before and struck the marble floor. My stomach performed a backflip and bile shot up into the back of my throat, not to mention my sense of balance going out of the window as my ears adjusted to the rapid shift in pressure.

    ¡°Screw off!¡±

    I blasted him using one hand. The other was too busy trying to keep my lunch down. My vision was swimming. It saved energy, somehow, but I didn¡¯t consider the effect it would have on my body when I teleported it across the hallway. This must have been how Charlie felt after I sent him through the wall back at the palace!

    ¡°I should have tested this first,¡± I grumbled. Samantha stared at me with sheer panic in her eyes.

    ¡°Are you okay? Do you need me to heal you?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t stitch this back together with magic. I just knocked myself loopy.¡±

    How stupid was I? Using an experimental type of magic on myself without considering the aftereffects first. Sure, it was better than getting shot by that goon - but now I was two seconds away from throwing up and I couldn¡¯t stand straight without wavering from side to side like a drunkard. Turns out that passing through a non-existent space for a moment wasn¡¯t something the human body was built for.

    Someone was behind me.

    I fell down onto my stomach and used my feet to push myself over. My hands quivered and I pulled the trigger on instinct. Two shots rang through the hall, and the man trying to approach from that angle was dealt with in a vibrant splatter of blood. He stumbled towards the window and smashed his head through the glass pane before falling down to his knees.

    There was no time to collect myself. I was trying to get back up when the next target charged into the fray. The momentum carried me up and over, causing me to roll onto my back. With my vision flipped upside down and my arms locked into a weird position, I was forced to take speculative shots at him until he stepped back.

    But the sound of the slide locking back was deafening.

    ¡°You goddamn son of a bitch-¡±

    He sensed his chance and moved in for a second try. What he didn¡¯t expect to see was Samantha holding out her hands and aiming directly for his centre of mass. A bolt of energy flew through the air and struck him, sending him heel over head and several meters down the corridor with enough force to slide even further when he finally touched the ground.

    I stared at his smoking, unconscious body with a frown.

    ¡°To be honest, I forgot you could do that.¡±

    Samantha smirked, ¡°You swear like a sailor when things get intense, and your accent changes too...¡±

    ¡°You already know why!¡± I groaned. She reached down and helped me back to my feet, using her broad shoulders to support my weight while I fumbled around and loaded another full magazine into my gun.

    Stunning myself with that ill-planned spell, rolling around like an idiot in an overly-choreographed action movie, and now getting coddled by the girl I was supposed to be protecting. It was lucky that Veronica wasn¡¯t here to witness me dress myself in the language of a circus performer.

    ¡°There are a lot more of them,¡± Samantha worried.

    ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s fix that before we try to deal with the Etherscope.¡±

 Chapter 181

    ¡°Where the hell did she go?¡±

    That last statement of confusion was engraved onto his tombstone as a shotgun blast ripped through his chest and tore apart his organs. I cocked the lever and loaded the next shell into the tube, spinning on the ball of my foot and cutting down a second man from Darin¡¯s merry band of goons.

    Not stopping for a second, I ditched the gun and left it on the ground so I could switch back to my pistol. None of it was as smooth as usual. The nagging injury from when I was shot in the log continued to flare up from time to time and cause me to miss a step, and when combined with the sickness caused by my brief foray into the grasp of nothingness, suddenly this fight was closer to being even.

    Still ¨C they could have done with a few dozen more men to really win.

    We weren¡¯t the only ones making a lot of noise in the museum. Constant gunfire was coming from above and below as Veronica and Frankfort showed why they weren¡¯t the type of women one wanted to see when organizing a criminal conspiracy. I knew Veronica was good at this, but I had to give her more credit for the effort.

    ¡°Surround her! Surround her!¡±

    Every cry of frustration echoed in my ears and made my head pound anew.

    ¡°We already tried that, you bloody dolt!¡±

    Where was Darin? I hadn¡¯t seen hide or hair since we locked eyes during the opening encounter. He must have been hiding somewhere and giving out orders to the others. I had to pay him back for what he did at the academy.

    I didn¡¯t know how many of them were left for me to kill, but their efforts were becoming more half-hearted with every passing second. Nobody wanted to be the next one offered to the altar as a sacrifice. There were twenty new faces etched into the scar tissue in my mind, and there would be a few more before the day was through.

    I resisted the urge to submit to the red mist again. Catching a glimpse of Samantha while he lagged behind me was keeping my feet firmly on the ground. This wasn¡¯t a situation where I had to go feral and soak myself in blood like before. Maria Walston-Carter was supposed to be elegant, even when she was blowing someone¡¯s brains out with a gunshot to the cranium.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going down there. She¡¯s watching!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to be able to get her if you keep being a coward!¡±

    Their efforts to box me in were a complete failure. I kept moving and shifting the field of play, and the men who hurried down from the roof didn¡¯t even the scales since I caught them on the stairs before they were ready. Samantha stuck close but remained on the opposite side of the hallway to keep us both from being hit at the same time.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting out of here! Fuck you!¡±

    ¡°What the fuck are you doing?¡± the other man roared, ¡°Get back!¡±

    It was too late. Hurried footsteps ran away from our position. Funnily enough he was the one who made the correct choice by running away in the moment. He was bumbling away from the danger I posed by complete accident. I stepped around the corner and assessed my targets, before shooting one man in the back, switching to the next and hitting his leg, and killing the last with a shot through the kidneys.

    The man with the wounded leg fell to the ground with an agonizing cry and clutched the bleeding hole. But what happened next was surprising to me.

    ¡°Stop! Stop! Alright, I give up! Stop shooting!¡±

    Darin emerged from one of the rooms with two surviving, uninjured men. All of them were holding their hands aloft, dropping their weapons to the floor after unloading the magazines. Samantha grabbed my shoulder as if to restrain me. Who did she think I was? I wasn¡¯t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

    ¡°Kick them away.¡±

    They did as I ordered and kicked their weapons towards me. They slid across the floor and came to a stop at my feet. Darin cast a wary glance to his injured friend, no doubt concerned about whether they could get him medical attention before he bled out and died.

    ¡°Is this everyone?¡± I asked.

    He nodded, ¡°On this floor. Yes. Goddess above, you killed everyone else already...¡±

    ¡°Do you know what Landon Sloan is planning to do here?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Something about building a machine to harvest that stuff they injected those other poor bastards with, but lately they¡¯ve been disappearing. I reckon they¡¯re dropping like flies because of what he did to them. They don¡¯t tell us anything.¡±

    Samantha whispered to me, ¡°Are we going to let them go?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. They can go. Close that wound first.¡±

    She hurried over and used her magic to stitch the hole as best she could.

    ¡°You fine gentlemen are going to carry your friend out of this building before he loses that leg, and you¡¯re not going to get in Veronica or Frankfort¡¯s way while doing so. Does that sound agreeable?¡±

    Darin sighed and gauged the reaction of his surviving team members. They looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but here.

    ¡°Aye. We¡¯ll take your damned offer. It¡¯ll take two of us to carry him regardless.¡±

    I picked up their pistols and shoved them awkwardly into my coat pocket. It was a good thing they were so deep and offered so much space. I kept my gun trained on them the entire time until Samantha was done doing what she could.

    ¡°He¡¯ll need a medical professional to look at this. I¡¯ve stopped the bleeding for now.¡±

    She stepped away, having applied first aid without getting a single drop of blood on her palms. I motioned with my gun for them to get a move on. Darin and one of the two survivors approached him and hefted him into the air, slowly moving away with the third following along.

    ¡°Are you sure this is okay? Landon¡¯s going to have our heads for this!¡±

    Darin scoffed, ¡°Be thankful we¡¯re coming away with this much! I don¡¯t much like Landon¡¯s chances of coming out on top right now.¡±

    He always was the smart one in the room.

    Thanks to his surrender, we were done clearing our floor. I kept myself alert for a potential retaliatory backstab attack, but they stuck to their word and carried him clean away from the building and towards a police cordon that had appeared in the front plaza. I spied on them through the window and watched as they were escorted away.

    ¡°I hope the other two are okay,¡± Samantha worried.

    The gunfire had come to a stop. I also hoped that it was because they¡¯d done their respective parts and cleaned out the back rooms of the building. There was no way for me to know if that was the case. Sometimes I longed for the convenience of a phone or radio transmitter.

    ¡°We¡¯d better go and find out. I¡¯m sure that Landon is rushing to activate his machine as we speak.¡±

    We cautiously yet hurriedly moved through the halls and back down a floor. Veronica was waiting for us in the long corridor that led to the main showroom. There was no time to recount the full series of events, so she offered me a simple assessment of the problem.

    ¡°Those pale men are with Landon. I didn¡¯t see them.¡±

    How many of those ¡®pale men¡¯ were even left at this point? Darin didn¡¯t sound enthused about their chances of survival. The serum was playing hell with the most delicate parts of their bodies. I had to assume any deaths would be caused by the heart¡¯s valves failing under duress.

    We burst out into the atrium and approached the top of the steps. At the same time, Frankfort emerged from the door on the other side, having completed her part of the plan none the worse for wear. She was a terrifying force of nature despite her older age. WISA knew how to pick them.

    The sight on the show floor was a profoundly strange one.

    Landon was in a mad hurry to finish off last checks and activate the machine when we arrived. He was flicking switches pounding metal panels into place. The remaining guards surrounded him on all sides with weapons at the ready. I could only see the top of his head behind the coils and mechanisms that had been attached onto Snow¡¯s original invention like Frankenstein¡¯s monster. Despite the chaos in the museum, none of the guards moved to attack us.

    He paused for a moment. His head popped up from behind the twisted steel. He was confident that we couldn¡¯t make a move with so many guns trained on us, believing in our own cowardice in the face of death.

    ¡°Maria Walston-Carter, how nice of you to join us during this momentous occasion.¡±

    ¡°You should quit while you¡¯re ahead and give this up,¡± I suggested helpfully.

    He laughed, ¡°Why would I do that? I told my good men here not to open fire when you arrived for a reason. You¡¯re a reasonable girl. The others don¡¯t see it that way ¨C but I can tell that everything you do is for a good purpose. You believe so firmly in your convictions that you don¡¯t care about what others think.¡±

    He kept himself concealed though. I couldn¡¯t get a clear shot on him from the top of the main stairwell. He claimed to believe in my reasonability, yet he wasn¡¯t willing to put his money where his mouth was and step away from his covered position.

    ¡°My only conviction is putting you down like the mad dog you are.¡±

    ¡°You think you, and those withered old husks you call intelligence officers are enough to do that? This game is already over. My machine needs only to receive the final command, and the very fabric of Walser will change forever more.¡±

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Charlie hovered at the control panel next to him, holding his aim aloft and training it on me. He looked even more haggard than the last time I saw him at the palace. He was breathing heavily through his mouth and struggling to stay upright.

    ¡°Greenblatt, Rentree and Vincent ¨C they¡¯re all waiting for the results of my research. The new King will behold my greatest work and tremble in his boots! He will realize that he owes his new position not to Welt, or them, but to me. My name will be canonized in the annals of our long history.¡±

    ¡°By unleashing a bunch of bloodthirsty demons into the country?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what is necessary to complete the final stage of my project. They want more of what my soldiers can offer them. Pale men of distinction will storm the enemy trenches and dislodge the great quandary of modern warfare.¡±

    He pulled the lever and the machine whirred to life. A red glow emanated from within a small brass chamber. The newly exposed fins started to glow as they catalysed the reaction and thinned the membrane between our world and the Veil. The reworking was more extensive than I anticipated. He had gutted the entire thing and rebuilt it almost completely.

    But there was one element of this grand machine that was notable by its absence. Before I had likened this plot to the creation of a slaughterhouse, where the demons would be penned in impenetrable cells and killed en masse using remote means. It was obvious that no such construction had happened in the museum.

    ¡°Dad, why are you turning that damned thing on already?¡± Charlie hissed.

    My eyes narrowed; ¡°This isn¡¯t a factory. How the hell do you suppose you¡¯ll kill whatever comes through to this side?¡±

    The pale soldiers that surrounded him next to the machine were suddenly cast into doubt. They must have heard from the others about the Horrcath that rampaged through the fort during the cult crisis. It was national news, and only now, facing down the barrel of that gun did they realize that a similar thing could occur here. Perhaps they expected a more stringent approach than simply ripping open another portal and hoping for the best.

    But that¡¯s when it occurred to me. Was Sloan really hoping for the best?

    ¡°You never intended to mass produce these soldiers at all, did you?¡±

    Landon¡¯s laughter grew to a fever pitch.

    ¡°It¡¯s brilliant, isn¡¯t it? All of those so-called men of wealth and means are almost too easy to manipulate! I couldn¡¯t believe my luck when you put Verner Welt down like the rabid fool he was for me. Suddenly I was the one holding the keys to the castle!¡±

    The glow intensified and the machine kicked into motion. Gears spun, steam spewed from the open pores, and the energy in the air was so strong that I could detect it just by engaging my magical senses. He was going to rip a hole clean through into the Veil and let whatever happened happen. It could be anything, but I suspected that it would be far worse than even the Alchemist.

    ¡°Dad!¡± Charlie yelled.

    The remaining pale men saw the writing on the wall and fled for the nearest piece of cover. The protective wall surrounding Landon dissipated in an instant. Frankfort, Veronica and I all unloaded the rest of our magazines at him, but they harmlessly bounced from the metal construction of the machine he was hiding behind.

    ¡°Oh! So close!¡± he taunted.

    Charlie rushed to the control panel, only to be grabbed by the collar of his shirt and thrown back onto the floor in a heap. He hacked and coughed, blood dribbling from his mouth and onto the flawless marble. He was faced with a clear picture of his own mortality. A pale, squalid face with bloodshot eyes and gaunt cheeks.

    ¡°What... What are you doing? You said this... was supposed to help...¡±

    ¡°And it did. My experiments on you proved my theory, and kept that worthless, frail body of yours from failing any further!¡±

    The chaos of the machine stirring to life and the gunfire faded into the background. Charlie tilted his head upwards and locked eyes with his father.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You only ever got in my way, Charlie. The medical bills, the time I wasted looking after you, all of that emotional stress. It was needless. I had hoped that you¡¯d prove yourself valuable once I blessed you with my serum, yet you¡¯ve failed me time and time again ever since.¡±

    Charlie gripped his gun tight and got up to his knees.

    ¡°Turn it off. Turn that bloody thing off right now!¡± he screamed.

    But his arms were too weak to hold it up now. He was on his last legs. The machine rumbled and vibrated, threatening to break free from the heavy steel brackets that held it down to the floor. The taste of copper filled our mouths, and soon a thin line appeared in mid-air. It widened and widened, until a single clawed hand thrust through the fabric and ripped it open.

    A horrendous being emerged from the gap.

    The profane birth played out in vivid detail and scarred itself into the memories of all present. Long, claw-like fingers were attached to six bony limbs. A featureless head, smoothed of all humanoid likeness. Its skin was white like bone and criss-crossed with deep black veins, giving it a sickly and frail air.

    A red, three-pronged crown protruded from its skull, donned with dozens of living eyes, bloodshot and filled with the purest ichor of malice one could imagine. Featherless wings sprouted from its back, and each shuddering breath of our mortal air sent a tremor through its lithe figure.

    Drawing a red blade from the air ¨C it flared those monstrous wings and released a haunting wail. It was so much smaller than the Alchemist, but I knew right away that it was much more dangerous. This was an apex predator amongst apex predators. This thing was designed for one singular purpose, to cleave and cut until there was nothing left but blood and bone.

    A name was spoken into my mind; The Bloodcrowned King.

    Charlie was catatonic. He dropped his gun and tried to crawl away before the beast could turn to him. The other guards alternated between screaming in fear or vomiting in disgust. On instinct Frankfort made the first move, moving down the steps and firing what was left in her pistol at the beast.

    Veronica yelled, ¡°Frankfort, don¡¯t get its attention!¡±

    But it was far too late. The Bloodcrowned King pointed a long finger in her direction. Frankfort¡¯s charge came to a stop. She lowered her hands and stared it dead in the eyes, and a second later a savage red spike jutted outwards from her chest. The red sickle hardened and oxidized rapidly in the open air, congealing and turning a deeper shade of crimson.

    ¡°Frankfort!¡±

    Frankfort froze in place and gasped in pain. Excess blood seeped from her lips and down the front of her chest. It was only a second later that the gravity of what just happened finally sunk in.

    She was a goner.

    She collapsed onto the steps, still clutching her punctured chest. The pale men were quick to turn on Landon and his scheme in turn. They all fired at the beast to no avail, and were similarly speared by jutting blades constructed from their own blood. The blackened edges were all that was needed to put them down for good.

    ¡°Hemomancy?¡± I whispered.

    Landon laughed and laughed. He clapped his hands together like it was the amusing final act of a theatre-bound comedy. The King did not punish him. Rather, it was following his orders. The contract he signed protected him. All he had to do was offer him the immensely powerful bounty of the crystal he had synthesized in preparation for this day.

    ¡°You¡¯re all going to fucking die here!¡± he spat, ¡°Not just you ¨C but every one of those goddess-damned mongrels who ruined my life! I¡¯ll give them something to remember alright! I¡¯m going to scar my name into the collective memory of this world!¡±

    He pointed at me, and the Bloodcrowned King moved its profane hands in my direction. I recovered from the shock of seeing Frankfort¡¯s motionless body and responded in kind. I could sense its touch traveling through the air to try and reach me, so I quickly created a void around myself and the others to keep us from being afflicted with his magic.

    The other men in the lobby weren¡¯t so lucky. Their bodies seized up as it assumed control over their blood, before they were punctured clean through with dozens of small spikes. Some were so strongly targeted by the irrational magic that they were left standing, frozen in place by the congelation of their ichor.

    The King was not well pleased by this revelation. I heard a whisper in my mind.

    ¡°You... who are you?¡±

    ¡°The ones above you sent me to stop this madness,¡± I replied without moving my lips.

    ¡°The incorporeal ones? They dare dispense their powers into the hands of a mortal?¡±

    Landon looked between the beast and me, wondering why we weren¡¯t all dead on the floor like the rest of the people in the room.

    ¡°What are you doing? Kill them already!¡±

    The King didn¡¯t want any part of this fight however. The grotesque creature said something to him, and Landon was forced to move right along without pushing for any more. He stomped over to the machine and punched a series of buttons, before wrenching down on the level and exposing the red crystal clutched in a set of metal jaws.

    The energy being released grew more powerful, fuelling my nihilistic barrier but also pushing us away from the sheer force of the air and atmosphere whipping around the museum floor.

    ¡°Never mind! This¡¯ll have to do for now,¡± Landon boasted, ¡°Have fun being turned into dog food!¡±

    The King grabbed him from above and flew upwards, smashing through the glass dome above and sending shards raining down onto us. There was no sign of any more Horrcath yet. I rushed down onto the floor and approached the controls, desperately pushing every button I could to try and stop it from rampaging on endlessly.

    ¡°It¡¯s not working!¡± Veronica yelled. The sound was almost deafening.

    ¡°It won¡¯t...¡± Charlie croaked from beside my feet.

    Nothing I tried was working. The controls didn¡¯t stop the reaction now that it was put into motion, and I soon discovered that my attempts to destroy the crystal using my magic were for naught. Nothing could penetrate the cloak it surrounded itself with, not even my God-given powers. Landon must have known that the machine was a one-way trip when he designed it.

    ¡°Grab Charlie!¡± I barked.

    Veronica hurried over and helped me hoist the frail kid onto our shoulders. We staggered out of the atrium and into an enclosed room behind the stairs before any more misfortune could befall our group. We set him down on a couch and took a second to ruminate on what just happened.

    Charlie had something to say.

    ¡°You can¡¯t destroy that thing...¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t have left it here if you could.¡±

    He had a good point. Landon was happy to leave the machine unguarded knowing that soon it would be completely inaccessible to anyone trying to turn the damn switch off. Demons and other obstructions would render such efforts impossible.

    ¡°He hated me.¡±

    Charlie¡¯s discovery hung over my head. I did warn him once before.

    ¡°Intense feelings of love can easily be twisted in hatred. There is no sweetening the outcome. He acted in what he thought was an appropriate manner to extract ¡®value¡¯ from you in exchange for his emotional labour. You deserved better.¡±

    Charlie stared up at me. He could barely see through the fog in his eyes.

    ¡°Did I?¡± he croaked.

    I nodded.

    ¡°You¡¯re the monster that Landon made. Find forgiveness next time around, Charlie.¡±

    Those were the last words that Charlie ever heard. The last of his strength left him, and his body fell limp as the damage to his heart became irreparable. I only wished that he could have listened to my warnings about his father when they mattered. It wasn¡¯t about rescuing him, it was about extracting value for all of the pain and stress Landon associated with his birth.

    It metastasized like an uncontrollable cancer and combined with his ideological nihilism. Charlie became just another grievance in a long, long list of them. Landon was a true-blooded, head-to-toe kind of rat bastard. He was the kind of human dogshit I took some small pleasure in scrubbing out when I was still working as a hitman, because it was hard not to.

    Veronica shook her head.

    ¡°What are we going to do now? Frankfort¡¯s gone!¡± Samantha whispered.

    ¡°Frankfort knew what was on the line when she came with us. She was a woman who risked her life hundreds of times before. She would have preferred to go out doing something good instead of wasting away on a deathbed,¡± Veronica said, remaining steel hearted.

    Now was a good time to feel the pressure. The museum was compromised, the machine and the circle it opened were seemingly indestructible, and some terrifying thing had emerged through the gap created by Landon¡¯s new summoning circle. Not only that ¨C it was willing to follow his direct orders.

    This was our final act.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to stop Landon and that Horrcath. He¡¯s going to try and kill as many people as he can. He¡¯ll have signed his soul and the lives of many others to it in exchange for its power,¡± Veronica observed.

    Samantha looked at me, ¡°You really couldn¡¯t destroy that crystal with your magic?¡±

    ¡°I thought it was limitless, but there¡¯s more to that crystal than meets the eye. It was like a brick wall had been erected on all sides. I couldn¡¯t even get close using my magic,¡± I theorized.

    But to be more specific I suffered an intense feeling of vertigo, like I was running down a corridor that was getting ever-longer right in front of my eyes. Either Landon had concocted a dastardly way to keep us from smashing it into pieces, or the Bloodcrowned King was using one of its abilities to keep me from touching it.

    ¡°Sitting here isn¡¯t going to do us any good. Let¡¯s regroup with the others and hope that the Horrcath incursion isn¡¯t too severe,¡± Veronica said.

    ¡°And Frankfort?¡± Sam replied.

    ¡°She¡¯ll have to stay here for now. She¡¯d have my head for wasting my time moving dead bodies in a crisis.¡±

    Samantha wanted to see some hesitation in her but Veronica wasn¡¯t biting. She was focused on finishing the job, not holding a funeral for a coworker. It felt strange to move on without Frankfort ¨C but that was death for you. It came quickly and often without warning, and there was no time to say your goodbyes. A single lapse in judgement was all it took.

    ¡°Come on then,¡± I grimaced, ¡°Let¡¯s face Landon¡¯s demons for the last time.¡±

 Chapter 182

    The moment we stepped outside of the museum the situation went from bad to worse. A beam of pure energy smashed through the roof, emitted by that untouchable crystal, and summoned forth a swirling mass of red clouds over the city. The cold touch of the Veil dripped from every pore, making my entire body shiver. I shut down my magic sense and tried to focus on the main problem.

    It wouldn¡¯t be long before lesser demons were attracted to our location by that crystal. They would rampage through the streets and kill thousands of people, who would try to fight back with whatever weapons they could get their hands on. Everyone was armed and ready for a fight ¨C but those preparations were meant to be for human foes, not demons. I had little faith that the makeshift barricades made from discarded furniture would do much to stop them.

    ¡°We¡¯d better get back to the others.¡±

    Adrian, Claude and Max weren¡¯t far from our position, hedging themselves close to the danger zone and sharing their anxieties about how the operation went. Terribly! But they didn¡¯t know that yet. We¡¯d have to catch them up on the entire problem first before we could make our next move.

    We found them hiding underneath a wooden awning out back behind a blacksmith¡¯s shop. It seemed as if they understood the value of staying unseen, unlike the goons in the atrium who did everything they could to attract the King¡¯s unwanted attention.

    ¡°What the hell happened in there?¡± Adrian hissed, ¡°One minute there¡¯s a riotous gunfight happening, the next that horrible monster comes flying through the roof with some poor guy clenched in one hand!¡±

    ¡°That ¡®poor guy¡¯ is Landon Sloan,¡± I explained.

    ¡°And where¡¯s Frankfort?¡±

    I looked to Veronica who just shook her head and delivered the sobering news, ¡°It killed her.¡±

    ¡°It killed her?¡±

    The three onlookers had spent a lot of time with Frankfort while I was away from the safehouse. It wasn¡¯t long enough to call them friends, but the death of an acquaintance was still going to affect them. Claude and Max looked extremely uneasy about the news.

    ¡°That thing is incredibly dangerous. All it took was one glance and it assumed control over the blood in her veins. Then it did the same to the men who tried to kill it. I don¡¯t want to estimate how many lives it could take if Landon orders it to murder indiscriminately.¡±

    ¡°He will,¡± I murmured.

    ¡°What did Landon do?¡± Max asked.

    ¡°What am I supposed to say about him? He¡¯s lost his mind. He¡¯s made some kind of infernal crystal and inserted it into the Etherscope, and used it to lure a mad beast from the other side. He could kill every single person in Walser if he wanted, for certain if it¡¯s more powerful than the one we saw at the fort.¡±

    As we spoke under a low awning he was flying across the city and killing anyone who dared get in his way. This wasn¡¯t a summoning circle made from sacrificial blood and hard feelings. Landon applied his forward-thinking abilities to the ¡®art¡¯ of summoning Cath from the Veil. He was a scalpel, whereas the cult was a sledgehammer.

    It was safe to assume that his modified Etherscope was significantly more effective than the traditional method of summoning them. The secret lay within the crystal he brought and inserted into the device. The King acted to prevent me from destroying it, and my attempts proved ineffective at shattering it into pieces and ending this madness.

    No matter how close I got, the crystal moved further away.

    It was a physical and mental attack. It felt like the King was purposefully screwing with my depth perception, making it impossible to target the area where the crystal was located in three-dimensional space. Hemomancy was the least of my worries given that type of reality-bending magic. How far could it take this? What was it really capable of?

    ¡°We¡¯re screwed. Frankfort¡¯s dead, and we¡¯re no good at fighting demons!¡± Claude panicked.

    ¡°Cool it!¡± Max barked, ¡°Honestly, panicking now isn¡¯t going to get us anywhere.¡±

    Panic was an appropriate response from where I was standing. I didn¡¯t have the faintest idea of how we were going to entrap that thing and successfully kill it. It could fly, seemingly alter reality at will, and was actively avoiding me for fear of my abilities. The King could slaughter us without worry if he avoided me for long enough to achieve his goals.

    He wanted that crystal.

    ¡°Is Genta still in the city?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I think he is. We¡¯d better hurry and speak with him though. I don¡¯t know what we¡¯ll do if he dies before we get there,¡± Veronica confirmed.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s move. Stay out of sight.¡±

    Veronica led the way to the hotel where Genta was still staying. She was keeping him close in case we needed his expertise, and that planning was now proving prudent. I could hear the profane wingbeats of the King as it soared across the city skyline. It would hover in place, endure a round of gunfire from the citizens below, before killing them and moving on.

    We stopped and ducked beneath the front of a restaurant before it could see us. There was no sign of Landon now. He must have found a good vantage point to stand and watch the carnage unfold. We moved on when it was safe, mounting and climbing over a barricade erected by protestors.

    I peered around the corner just in time to see a group of four rebels firing into the air.

    ¡°Is that a bloody half-hawk?¡±

    ¡°Demon! A demon!¡± one of them cried.

    They responded by aiming upwards with their rifles and shooting at the King. A second later they all froze in place, before dozens of blood-forged spikes erupted from their veins and killed them instantly. The morbid statues were left to stand in place as a warning to anyone who attempted to harm it. It was obvious that conventional weaponry was completely ineffective.

    There were signs of similar incidents everywhere we looked. A group of royalist soldiers still eating their evening meal before being killed, one was frozen in place with a cup of tea halfway to his open mouth. The stench of blood and everything else that exited the body upon death lingered in my nostrils.

    ¡°Goddess above!¡± Max muttered under his breath.

    ¡°There¡¯s not gonna¡¯ be anybody left to save at this rate!¡± Claude seethed.

    ¡°What¡¯s he trying to achieve with this? It belies rationality.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s lashing out. He just wants to hurt the people whom he thinks hurt him,¡± I whispered.

    The totality of his hatred expanded far beyond the nobility and the people in his personal orbit though. This had started to fester since the very moment he learnt of his son¡¯s terminal condition. Why was he ¡®burdened¡¯ and forced to suffer under such circumstances? Suddenly, he could only view the events in his life as extended punishments atop the rest. All that combined with a raging desire to be remembered and it was easy to see where he was going.

    We arrived at the hotel and hurried inside. A group of civilians were hiding by the front windows and observing the destruction from inside. We stormed up the stairs and knocked furiously on Genta¡¯s door. The bespectacled scientist emerged soon after, and he looked as stressed as ever.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Everyone! You¡¯re okay?¡±

    I pushed past him and entered the room; ¡°We need to talk. I¡¯m afraid there¡¯s no time for pleasantries.¡±

    ¡°I can see that much from my window! Come inside, quickly.¡±

    With everyone seated and the curtains drawn shut, we had a brief moment of peace amongst the abject anarchy on the streets. I took a deep breath and succinctly described the entire ordeal at the museum to the best of my memory. Genta¡¯s brow furrowed deeper and deeper with each additional detail. He understood full well why we had come to him for answers.

    I asked the million-dollar question first, ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ name is that crystal he made?¡±

    Genta held out his palms and tried to cool us off, ¡°Please! Rest assured, I¡¯ll explain everything I know promptly. Let me begin by stating that this is all theoretical. I don¡¯t have enough information to make a firm judgement.¡±

    ¡°He must have gotten hints from one of the surviving cultists about the process of summoning.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. That was the case, but those cultists could have never created a system as efficient as the one you¡¯ve described. He¡¯s combining theoretical principles about the intersection of our world with the Veil, and bypassing the traditional manner in-which those Cath are summoned using the Etherscope.¡±

    ¡°There was a circle there. He needed to bind the Bloodcrowned King to this world, but I don¡¯t know what the terms of their agreement were. Perhaps his grand prize is that crystal. It prevented me from destroying it using my magic.¡±

    ¡°Cath are attracted to thin areas of the wall that separates us. Those are locations with high magical concentration. They desire human emotion and energy. It¡¯s how they feed and grow stronger. Utilising the Etherscope and that crystal as a beacon is a mad plan indeed.¡±

    All I was getting from Genta was that letting the ¡®King¡¯ get its hands on that crystal was going to be super bad news. Landon must have been using it as part of the contract. He¡¯d cracked the code and figured out how to control one of those things. Find an intelligent one and offer it a reward it really wanted.

    The entire building rattled as an explosion echoed across the city. I didn¡¯t want to think about what Landon was doing while we were trying to figure out a way to stop him.

    ¡°Did you try to destroy the Etherscope?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but the Veil is already pouring through the gap he made, and the crystal seems to be the key component that keeps the reaction going.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll need to study it in-person to have a better idea. Is it safe to go there now?¡±

    Veronica laughed, ¡°No. Not at all! It might be crawling with demons at this point.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a risk I¡¯m willing to take,¡± Genta said resolutely.

    ¡°You should go with him, Veronica,¡± I suggested, ¡°He might find a way to break that damned machine before it can get any worse.¡±

    She nodded, ¡°Will you two be alright on your own?¡±

    ¡°We have to be, or else that demon is going to rampage endlessly across this continent until there¡¯s nothing left to kill. Running away now only delays the inevitable, and I¡¯m not one to go down without a fight. As for the rest of you...¡±

    Adrian, Max and Claude were not chomping at the bit to come along this time, but I wanted to make sure that they understood what was at stake. I couldn¡¯t have them rushing headlong into this and making the situation more difficult.

    ¡°Please just stay here and hide. I know that Claude can¡¯t help himself, but that demon really will kill you on the spot if it sees you out there.¡±

    Adrian smirked, ¡°I bet you¡¯ll take care of it anyway.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything too reckless,¡± Max warned.

    ¡°Fine! I¡¯ll stay here and cover my ears,¡± Claude said, rounding out the trio.

    ¡°Good. Time to fulfil our destiny, I suppose.¡±

    I grabbed Samantha¡¯s shoulder and led her out of the hotel room so that we could begin our pursuit of Sloan and the demon. No answers about getting them out of the sky were forthcoming, and Samantha was showing doubts about how effective we could be in killing it. She resisted my pull and stepped away as we reached the now-empty tavern on the ground floor of the hotel.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±

    ¡°You need to be yourself. Durandia chose you for a reason.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t fight like you. The only things I¡¯m good for are mucking out stables and working fields.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that crop of bullshit, Sam. You¡¯re one of the smartest people I know. You never subscribed to this plain-speaking country-girl stuff before, so why the hell are you doing it now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m worried about this.¡±

    ¡°I get that, but talking down to yourself isn¡¯t going to help.¡±

    ¡°But we don¡¯t have a plan. You always have a plan.¡±

    ¡°Then we have to come up with one. It must be connected with the powers that Durandia gave us. I have the ability to turn something into nothing. Durandia made us two sides of the same coin, so perhaps you have the ability to turn nothing into something.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make much sense...¡±

    ¡°None of this does! The powers that she gave us are almost completely beyond our mortal comprehension. They operate entirely on our ability to understand the symbolism behind them, not any natural or scientific principles.¡±

    ¡°Symbolism?¡±

    I had a theory. I tried to explain it to her as best I could.

    ¡°This is irrational magic. It¡¯s the same kind as what the Cath uses. It doesn¡¯t subscribe to how things normally work.¡±

    ¡°I understand that much.¡±

    ¡°But we can¡¯t ¡®train¡¯ to use it better. Our ability with rational magic comes from our understanding of the natural laws. We can manipulate the natural environment around us to cast spells. What separates a talented mage from an inexperienced one is their understanding. Ask yourself this; how do you ¡®train¡¯ to remove something from existence, in direct contradiction of the laws of conservation of mass?¡±

    My initial nihility spell abided by those laws. It operated by breaking the bonds between molecules and causing the structure to enter a high-energy state, at which point it would disintegrate. Theoretically you could search the area and find those scattered molecules all over the place. It didn¡¯t destroy them.

    Samantha nodded along, ¡°You can¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. The King feared my ability to ¡®remove¡¯ the space between us, the medium by which it used its magic to kill everyone. I can create a barrier of ¡®nothing¡¯ that protects us. It may extend to the ability to annihilate it completely. I believe that your powers, despite ostensibly giving you the benefit of healing, could be equally destructive when applied from the correct perspective.¡±

    ¡°And what does that have to do with art?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, we cannot train ourselves to master these powers. It is up to our imaginations to draw these associations and innovate in turn. The more we come to understand the scale and nature of the universe, the greater these abilities become. When you merged those empty shells together ¨C where did your mind wander?¡±

    ¡°I felt like I could reach out and... grasp both sides of the world in my hands. Like I can mend any injury or cross any distance.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Keep that feeling in mind. We can do this. If Durandia has anything nasty in mind for you, she¡¯s going to hear from me, and she¡¯s not going to like it.¡±

    Samantha smirked, ¡°I could say the same for you.¡±

    ¡°Really? You already know I¡¯ve been lying to you this entire time.¡±

    ¡°I can tell that you¡¯re a good person. That¡¯s all I need.¡±

    Her nose hadn¡¯t led her wrong before, so why would I give her shit for sticking to her guns now? Still, I disagreed completely with her assessment. I was a rat trying to escape from a sinking ship. I was looking out for myself, and hoping to earn favour with Durandia to get a stay of execution.

    It was a very utilitarian way of viewing things. The outcomes I created were ¡®good¡¯ or ¡®better¡¯ then what they would be otherwise, so by extension Samantha saw me as a good person. As I thought it over I realized that this line of thinking was how I tended to operate too. What good was interrogating someone¡¯s motives if they weren¡¯t willing to share them? All Sam saw was a repentant sort of person trying to save the world.

    Maybe a selfish person would stand back and refuse to stick their neck out...

    I couldn¡¯t fall on either side of the fence. The threat of being killed at the end of this ordeal was still hanging over my head. My motives were compromised the moment that I figured out what was going on. Durandia saw that coming when she scoured the future using the Red Tree, she wanted me to face that question in my own way.

    Bad people got away with a lot, even more so in a world where the legal system could easily be swayed by money and influence. The modern day I came from was no different.

    ¡°Do good people solve all of their problems with violence?¡±

    Samantha frowned, ¡°You don¡¯t always use violence. You even complied with what I wanted when I asked you not to kill anyone that time...¡±

    ¡°What difference does that make?¡±

    ¡°It shows that you aren¡¯t reliant on it. You don¡¯t fight because you find some type of enjoyment in it. You could have done a lot worse than what you chose to do, and I bet that if you were given the chance you¡¯d use all of your knowledge to help in a less gruesome way.¡±

    My brow furrowed, ¡°Help?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a lot of money and influence, and you always say that those are the easiest ways to make a difference. Why not use that and leave a more... positive legacy behind?¡±

    I¡¯d never considered it. Not even once.

    I was so focused on surviving the challenges in front of me that it seemed insulting to imagine a future where I took advantage of my new privileged position. That was why I felt so strongly that Durandia intended for this to be a temporary arrangement. Veronica would have to shed a few tears for the daughter she never had the chance to meet, and I¡¯d be sent back into the void to drift endlessly. Samantha¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you never thought of that before.¡±

    ¡°Who says I didn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing that thing with your hands again.¡±

    The face-off ended abruptly, with Samantha cracking and laughing at my reaction. The tension that was building was momentarily lifted. My mind wandered back to the time we spent together at the academy. I couldn¡¯t say that I hated the experience.

    ¡°Use some of that brain power to help me come up with a plan, please.¡±

    She grinned at me, not feeling guilty in the least.

 Chapter 183

    The King knew we were coming.

    There were only two beings on this planet that could stop it from wreaking total havoc over Walser and the wider continent. It understood the threat we posed implicitly. We were touched by the only beings greater than it, the ones who rested beyond the Veil and harvested it for what they needed to survive. It could see that it was an ant between the toes of a giant, only worthy of regard because of the destruction it heralded.

    Samantha followed me through the winding streets of the city. There were hundreds of bodies all twisted into the same morbid pattern, with bloody spikes jutting from their bodies and locking them into place like statues. It was difficult to keep my eyes on where the King was located without exposing my body.

    The storm of magical energy surrounding the museum had grown fierce enough to be seen from across the area. I could tell from the moment we stepped through the doors that the magical concentration in the air was reaching dangerous levels. The barrier between our world and the Veil was as thin as it could be without completely failing. The only benefit to us was that we could use our magic more freely, but it also meant a group of hyper-durable demons was liable to appear and make things difficult.

    The King was rampaging through the old religious quarter, close to the expensive homes that the nobles liked to purchase. Landon was hunting down everyone and anyone he believed stood in his way, and that included his own allies and friends from Welt¡¯s original conspiracy.

    On bloodstained wings it could cross the entire city in the blink of an eye. There was something profoundly unnatural about how it flew through the air. The sky warped and twisted, forming channels that it could use to propel itself.

    ¡°How many people has he killed?¡± Samantha whispered.

    ¡°Too many. He managed to cause this much damage in less than thirty minutes. We have to stop him as soon as possible.¡±

    It was difficult to comprehend the scale of the chaos from street level. The King could cross a huge distance so quickly, and kill a huge number of people using its irrational magic before they had a chance to react and hide. Anyone unlucky enough to shoot at it were quickly dispatched and left on almost every street as a grim reminder to the ones who remained.

    ¡°How are we going to get him to come down here and face us?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯d like to know. It¡¯s obvious that it doesn¡¯t want to get close to me, it¡¯s scared of what I¡¯ll do using nihility. Maybe we can lure it in. It hasn¡¯t seen your powers yet.¡±

    ¡°But how can I manipulate my powers to destroy him?¡±

    That was the million-dollar question. I wracked my brain for ideas. Samantha was my opposite. She had the ability to make something from nothing, and to stitch reality back together. How far could that take us?

    I briefly looked back at the museum and the maelstrom of red energy that was now filling the air. We were being squeezed on both sides, and I had little faith in Genta finding a solution that I could not. The density of that energy was growing, like the pressure of a volcano about to erupt.

    We had to get to Sloan and kill him. There was a chance that the contract would be broken if we managed that. The problem was that it could fly across the continent and play keep away so long as Sloan was satisfied. It was trying to complete his stated goals as quickly as possible so it could evade us.

    It lurched from side to side, clinging to the edge of the old bell tower and sending brick tumbling to the street below. We were getting close, but that meant we were within range of its magic. My heart leapt into my mouth as the profane creature craned around to face us.

    Two big threats were coming, and the King noticed.

    Rather than launching an apocalyptic meteor attack or trying to kill us using hemomancy, the King elected to take a nearby horse-drawn cart and lift it into the air using telepathy. It pointed a long finger in our direction and launched it like a bullet. It flew in a long arc across the skyline of the city and directly towards the wide avenue we were trudging down.

    As the wooden cart flew through the air towards us, it was impossible to ignore how it only grew larger and larger, far beyond the real scale of what it would be otherwise. It was only when the newly enlarged cart was close to smashing us into a fine paste that my brain caught up and made my hands grab Samantha by the collar of her blouse, pulling her away and ducking into a side street.

    It came down with a deafening crash. The ground quaked, and the gigantic cart rolled across the street, smashing everything it met into pieces with planks the size of hundred-year-old redwood trees. When the dust settled I peered around the corner and despaired at what had just transpired. One of the huge wheels spun on the tilted axel.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Samantha gasped. She followed my gaze to the scene of the disaster. Several buildings had been completely demolished, and now the giant-sized wreckage of the cart was blocking the other end of the avenue.

    There was no doubt about it. The King had more than hemomancy. The reality of the situation was in front of my eyes, and there was no illusion that could explain it. The cart had grown several times in size during the arc of its flight, until it was large enough to demolish an entire block of the city!

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this. Not one bit.¡±

    ¡°What did it do? Did it make it bigger?¡±

    But there was something else to the construction of the cart that caught my attention. There was a deeper problem with what I was seeing. It was big, but it didn¡¯t look like it was always that way. The wood grain of the various planks that made up the bed was still small in scale, and the ¡®tiny¡¯ details like stray splinters were visible to the naked eye. You could stab someone to death with them like a spear.

    He quite literally made it bigger. He scaled the object up to a much larger size and threw it at us as a weapon. There was no rational explanation for how that worked. It was patently absurd.

    ¡°He¡¯s throwing something else!¡± Samantha cried.

    I snapped back to the Bloodcrowned King and witnessed it in action. The head of a gargoyle pilfered from the fa?ade of the old building it clung to, ripped from the body and lobbed like a boulder. Again, it flew towards us and grew larger with every passing second. Just when I thought it was supposed to stop getting bigger from the change in perspective, it kept going.

    We ducked down an alleyway and barely avoided it. It crashed down into the ground and exploded into a cloud of rubble and dust. We coughed and hacked, and decided against moving down the same road again lest it get another shot at us. I tugged on Samantha¡¯s arm and led her in the opposite direction.

    ¡°This is crazy!¡± she wheezed, ¡°How the bloody heck is it doing that?¡±

    It was mind-bending in the worst possible way. It was a trick of the eye transformed into real life. And I thought the Alchemist¡¯s ability to turn things into gold was strange! This was so, so much worse.

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    ¡°We¡¯ve got to keep going.¡±

    I ignored Samantha¡¯s protests and forged ahead with a scowl on my face. I dashed down the sidewalk of the other avenue, making good progress before the King realized what we were doing. It swung across to the other side of the tower and tried once more. A barrage of fruit and vegetables from a wrecked stall were pilfered from the ground and thrown in our direction.

    Tomatoes, lettuce, potatoes and apples rained down onto the cobbled road. Some exploded into biological bombs, spreading treacherous amounts of fluids in their wake and threatening to knock us down from the force of their explosion. All of them were bigger than our bodies.

    ¡°Stop wasting so much perfectly good food!¡± Samantha raged, her farmer¡¯s spirit breaking through the madness. We had bigger problems to worry about.

    I was putting together the pieces.

    I pushed through a pile of tomato juices and flesh that now polluted the street. The barrage of attacks were extremely strange in nature. The King was not trying to use hemomancy against us, instead relying on physical projectiles. The nature of those projectiles was confounding, but the intended outcome was not so sophisticated.

    Every time we got closer to the King the size of the projectiles grew smaller. We ducked into alleyways and used the buildings as cover, trying to keep it from pinning us down and predicting where we were coming from next. I wanted to preserve as much of my magical energy as possible, even if the air was filled with it, because the body could only ingest so much at once.

    Samantha was thankful she kept up with my exercise routine to some extent, but even she was starting to feel the effects of sprinting in a dead heat down a tricky set of cobbled roads. She stumbled a few times, only being saved by my reaching out and grabbing her before she hit the ground.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there! A little more!¡±

    ¡°This is madness!¡± she squealed.

    Watching a tomato fly from its hand towards us before falling short and splattering across the pavement was the moment where it all clicked. It was perspective. It really was a trick of the eye. The further away we were, the more it could amplify the size of the objects it was throwing. As we got closer, the more obvious the real scale of the objects became.

    We hid behind the last row of buildings before the market square.

    ¡°I know what it¡¯s doing!¡±

    ¡°What? What is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s very esoteric magic. It¡¯s using our sense of perspective. When we¡¯re far away, it can multiply the effect of an object getting closer and becoming larger, normally when that happens the projectile stays the same size but...¡±

    ¡°I get it!¡±

    ¡°That was how it kept me away from the crystal in the museum,¡± I growled, ¡°I couldn¡¯t target it with my magic because whenever I got close it moved further away, even when it was right in front of me.¡±

    We were going to have to get rid of it to smash the crystal. Nothing could ever be simple when I got involved! A reality-warping demon did seem like the kind of threat that demanded handing out godly powers to a pair of chosen ones though. We had the solution in our hands. Durandia expected us to figure it out and put a stop to Landon¡¯s rampage before it became even more dire.

    I hoped that this ability extended only to enlarging or shrinking objects from the King¡¯s point of view even when I knew that was a faint hope to cling to. I¡¯d already seen a demonstration of how it could be applied to manipulate the space we were moving through or perceiving. It was frankly impossible to effectively target the area the crystal inhabited while my depth perception was being thrown out of whack.

    I should have brought a stick of dynamite instead.

    A voice whispered into my ear, ¡°You will not interfere!¡±

    Samantha shivered, ¡°Did it just talk to us?¡±

    ¡°It appears that our friend knows the language. It¡¯s on another level to those slobbering dogs that the cult summoned, so it makes sense. That crystal must be a worthy prize indeed.¡±

    Was wasting time and energy trying to ward us away using psychic messages a good idea? We couldn¡¯t exactly pack our things and run away now that we were staring at the beast in the open maw. This was going to end in a battle no matter what we wanted. Therefore, it was imperative that we create an effective plan of attack using our magic, grounding the beast and hopefully putting a bullet through Sloan¡¯s head in the process.

    I could see him skittering around on the balcony, silently directing the beast to lay waste to the homes and workplaces of his personal grudges. Were Rentree and the other conspirators still alive? If we had any luck at all Sloan would take care of them before I got to him.

    There was no more time to delay. We had to make the first move before the King came up with another plan of attack, and no amount of harshly whispered warnings could stop me from ending this circus. I led Samantha on our final charge across the market square and to the front of the clocktower. The killing intent of our foe was obvious, so I erected an empty void between us to keep the magic field from reaching our position.

    It was baffling that a technique this powerful required less energy than destroying a physical object, but that was what made it a godly ability. There was an aspect of the spell that made it hyper efficient. My leading suspicion was that it fed directly from energy in the Veil, ripping open a gap and sucking it in like a black hole. There were ways to circumvent the limits of our mortal bodies, and those same tricks were used at a higher level as well.

    For our purposes it meant that the King could not explode our blood outwards and solidify it. Now that we were within range where there were no vanishing points for it to exploit, it also lost the ability to enlarge objects whilst throwing them at us. Samantha pulled back and fired a bolt of energy at it, although it seemed to have little effect.

    ¡°That¡¯s not going to cut it!¡± she yelled.

    ¡°Such meaningless resistance,¡± it hissed, ¡°Begone! Hide from our sight, and we shall show you mercy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not running away. You are afraid of what we might do,¡± I replied.

    The beast swung low, its eyes squinting at us; ¡°Foolishness! There is nothing you can do to this form! We are perfect! We are immaterial! We are the shadow that slips between the cracks in your realm. We know not fear, we feast on it!¡±

    ¡°And yet you debase yourself by following the orders of that moron.¡±

    ¡°Power is power. We care not for your mortal concerns. You will continue to relish your ignorance, unable to see that your morality has no worth. We shall grow stronger, and you will wither away into dust in due time.¡±

    ¡°I could make you disappear. You don¡¯t want me to end all that you are. So comfortable in your belief that you¡¯ll return to the Veil when your body is finished. You can¡¯t comprehend that there may be nothing waiting for you. An eternity of not being, of not thinking!¡±

    ¡°That is merely a possibility. Can your ever-rotting flesh prison withstand our full power?¡±

    ¡°You and I both know that they didn¡¯t send me here expecting failure. Have they ever been wrong before?¡±

    ¡°They will meddle no longer! Once we lay claim to our rightful reward, there will be nothing stopping us.¡±

    That was not an answer. The Bloodcrowned King was all-too familiar with how Durandia and the other deities operated. They saw all, they knew all, and they could push into action plans that unfolded over hundreds and hundreds of years without the pieces ever realizing it. What option was there left but to throw up your hands and accept it? They opened Pandora¡¯s Box by building the Red Tree, they created a power dynamic so unbalanced that it was unethical by its very nature.

    Samantha threw a wary glance my way. The spells she learned at the academy weren¡¯t going to cut it here. She needed to use her newly realized powers to help me beat this thing back to the void where it came from. I continued to maintain my shield, but I couldn¡¯t attack whilst focusing on it.

    ¡°Sam, it¡¯s your turn.¡±

    She took a deep breath and stepped up to the plate.

    Holding her palms out and extending her touch to the Horr, Samantha used her imagination and thought hard about what she understood. This was a cosmic power, one which could weave together the fabric of our reality with the precision of a needle. Her hands glowed a pale yellow, before they released a pulsating wave that travelled across the market square and engulfed the exterior of the building.

    It was only then that the demon discovered it had made a mistake. I was not the only one it needed to concern itself with, because Samantha was as every bit as dangerous to its survival as I was. There was a spine-tingling crunch, and its body seized up, turning inwards like it was being squeezed into a gravity well. Samantha yelled at the top of her lungs and continued to bring her outstretched hands closer together.

    She was wreaking havoc on its body. Sinew, bone and muscle fused together and prevented it from moving or retaliating. The long arms that burst forth from cragged shoulder bones were pulled inwards and fused to the flesh along its torso and midsection. A strangled roar of protest emanated from within its chest, but there was no mouth to release it.

    Sensing that this fight wasn¡¯t going to go its way ¨C it fell back on a drastic plan of action. Releasing its hold on the side of the building, it plummeted towards the ground without the ability to move its limbs. During the fall it scaled its own body down, escaping from the field that Samantha was emitting and crashing to the paving stones below with a heavy thump.

    The newly shrunken demon stretched out again, ripping skin from flesh and regaining the ability to move, albeit in a much more limited manner than before. It was no longer interested in speaking. It understood that the only way it was getting out of here alive was if it killed us first.

    With wings and teeth bared on both sides, it was time for the most difficult battle yet.

 Chapter 184

    In my near yearlong second life in this place, there were many oddities and unusual aspects to the world that I could never wrap my head around. This was a land of fantasy and magic, yet it was also gritty and authentic. Magic was limited in nature. Beasts of legend were rare to see. The inertia of human society continued down a similar road regardless of whatever differences came about through an unseen history.

    Through all of that I had been trained to perceive this mostly as a world that mirrored my own. The creator of the story on Earth based it all upon what they were familiar with, maybe there was a grander truth to the similarities than that, but it was beyond the scope of what I understood. I held certain expectations about how events played out.

    This was not that.

    More than at any time during my stay, this was the singular moment where it sunk in. This was not my old world. This was some high-fantasy, magic-slinging bullshit. We were fighting a horrifying blood demon from another dimension with magic powers that made the stuff we learned at the academy look like child¡¯s play, both in terms of raw danger and the meaningless spectacle of it. I was firing black blades of nothingness from the palm of my hands and slicing through reality like a hot knife through butter.

    I quickly discovered that the thinning barrier between our reality and the Veil was keeping the air densely saturated with latent energy, and combining that with the paradoxically efficient nature of these spells meant that we could use them as we pleased without worrying about falling unconscious. This wasn¡¯t going to be a battle decided on stamina and will, it was all strategy.

    And we couldn¡¯t risk moving away from the King.

    Its powers operated based on its, and our, sense of perspective. It could make things bigger or smaller when the true scale was hard to judge. As an object came closer, it could either grow in size or remain the same. Its powers were stronger the further away we were. There was no doubt in my mind that retreating meant it would be able to shrink us too, and I didn¡¯t like our odds of winning at one-fifth the size.

    I maintained our barrier with one hand, whilst Samantha led the attack from beside me. The King charged at us with the intent of simply flaying us using its claws, but Samantha caught it napping again and bound its feet to the stone floor. It tripped and tumbled into a roll, ripping up the ground and pulling the stones along with it. That was not enough to stop its momentum though. I grabbed Samantha and pulled her out of the way before it could crush us both. It was still ten-feet tall despite shrinking in size.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to try and separate us, stick close to me!¡±

    Even if we could sling these spells at a high rate, extending the range too much would exponentially increase the amount of energy they consumed and put us right back to square one. My protective shield was already pushing the upper limits of what was possible ¨C but I couldn¡¯t hide behind it forever when I needed to attack the demon too.

    If I dropped it, then it would gladly take the opportunity to use its hemomancy to kill us instantly. The demon paused and stared at us with its wings flared. The myriad eyes poking through the bony crest on its head twisted in every direction, spiralling into madness and making my stomach churn. Merely looking upon it was enough to disquiet me, and I had a very strong stomach. Samantha was used to turfing out piles of manure and dealing with dirty animals, this was on a different level to that.

    The standoff stretched on for several seconds as we waited for the other to make their first move. The fight could be over in the blink of an eye if we were careless, and it was much the same for the demon too. It understood that the power of nihility was the one force in this dimension that could permanently kill it and cease its long existence.

    Sloan called out from atop his hiding place, ¡°Stop dilly-dallying and kill them already! There¡¯s still a lot of work to be done!¡±

    How badly I wished I could whip around with my gun and shoot that bastard then and there, but nothing so convenient was on the cards with this demon staring us down. The King was the first to move and upset the status quo, leaping into the air to avoid touching the ground and being melded into it by Samantha¡¯s magic. Pieces of stone were still stuck to its skin, and the damage caused to the muscles and limbs had hobbled it and reduced its mobility.

    She couldn¡¯t get a clear shot on its wings. I brought up my hands and tried to pierce through its chest using a sharp point, but at the same moment the entire world twisted and stretched outwards. I felt my stomach lurch and my ears ring, losing the ability to stand upright and completely losing track of the target.

    ¡°It¡¯s screwing with my depth perception again!¡±

    ¡°Look out!¡±

    Samantha was the one who saved me this time around. She used her muscles to launch me through the air and out of harm¡¯s way. I rolled across the paved ground and came to a halt beneath one of the stalls that had been left behind from the previous market. The demon turned to face me, charging ahead and trying to press the advantage.

    A flurry of strikes was thrown my way. I scrambled back on my hands and knees, barely managing to escape the range of those vicious claws before they could sink into my flesh and end me. I focused entirely on defence, pulling up my shield moments before it could hit. The gap in reality sheared a clean cut through one of the arms, cutting a hand free and sending it pirouetting onto the ground next to my next.

    That gave the demon pause. It backed away and held out its remaining hands, trying to will forth a tide of blood from the inside of my body. I wasn¡¯t going to let that happen. I voided the air surrounding me, transforming it into a pitch-black shield that sucked in all light, matter and sound.

    I sensed that it gave up. I dropped the wall and retaliated by extending a lance from my palm, but once again the demon afflicted me with a rapidly changing sense of perspective and it went astray. Amongst the chaos unfolding in the courtyard, the city was being torn to shreds. I could hear screams and gunfire coming from elsewhere as more demons found their way through to our side.

    I needed a focus. A physical object I could turn into a reference point so that it couldn¡¯t modify my depth perception to such an extreme degree. I reached into the pocket of my coat and withdrew a dagger.

    The King flared their wings; ¡°Such a weapon cannot harm me.¡±

    I pointed the sharp end in its direction and smiled, ¡°Would you like to test that theory?¡±

    Whether this was going to work was a total shot in the dark. I focused my energy on the knife¡¯s blade and used it as a fixed point of reference for my spell, surrounding the edge with a field of ¡®nothingness.¡¯ A black outline formed, but what I really wanted was for it to point in a particular direction. This was the barrel of my new, magical gun.

    With a deft display of skill, I flipped it around in my palm and slashed across the market square in a horizontal swipe. At the same time, I used my eyes to follow the tip of the blade and extended the field outwards. The King barely had time to scramble away into the air before the death beam cut through where he was standing, eviscerating the front of the clocktower building and leaving a deep gash in the stonework.

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    Before I could pursue it deeper into the courtyard, I was beset upon by a pair of slobbering demon hounds. They dashed around the corner and charged towards me, leaving little time for planning or consideration.

    ¡°Get out of my way!¡±

    The Horr leapt at me with fangs and teeth bared, but they were cut down in mid-air by my blade of nothingness. The first was split clean through the middle, before the two remaining halves collapsed into a pile of spilled organs. The next was even unluckier. I expanded the zone of control further and completely annihilated the front half of the beast, leaving nothing but a pair of legs and its behind.

    I didn¡¯t even flinch. With one smooth motion I whipped the knife around my head without turning my back to the King. It watched in silent contemplation. Samantha emerged from her hiding place behind the stalls and joined me once again.

    ¡°This is between you and us. I won¡¯t allow any interlopers to crash the party.¡±

    ¡°I see. They did not select one who would die so easily.¡±

    ¡°You have no idea what they¡¯re capable of. They foresee everything! You were destined to lose this fight the moment you started it.¡±

    The King¡¯s voice rumbled through our heads; ¡°What foolishness is this? There is no such power in this universe. Time is an enemy of us all ¨C even for the eternal and unbonded. I care not for destiny, nor your reason, I am here to complete the contract to which I am obliged. That is my purpose.¡±

    ¡°They have the power to destroy and create matter, why is seeing the future a bridge too far?¡±

    ¡°It matters not!¡± it declared, ¡°I have broken my chains! I am not a mortal, and I have toiled for thousands of years to ascend beyond the flesh. Those with no ambition, with fear in their hearts and minds, will be swallowed whole beneath the waves! If the Gods wish for it ¨C then I shall serve as fine fertilizer to continue this cycle! In this course of action, I am as certain as ever!¡±

    With the wave of an arm, the severed hand floated upwards into the air, before shooting into the sky like it had been fired from the barrel of a railgun. Our heads whipped up to follow it, watching the large limb disappear and transform into a tiny spec in the overcast sky above.

    That tiny black dot started to grow, and grow, and grow ¨C with the details becoming clearer with every passing second. The looming shape of a gigantic hand formed, large enough to crush an entire block of the city when it made contact.

    ¡°Oh, horse manure!¡± Samantha cried. The sound was unbelievable. We were standing beneath a meteor as it came down to earth.

    ¡°Get behind me.¡±

    I clutched the dagger tight and focused, extending the length and size of the blade using my magic until I couldn¡¯t go any further. I watched the hand descend, all red skin and bone, and counted the seconds in my mind. It was difficult to estimate how quickly it was moving once it hit terminal velocity because it was still getting larger during the journey. Everything was out of whack. I could only rely on my instincts to time it right.

    The air pressure around us changed as a powerful gust of wind was pushed down into the ground by the large surface. I threw my arm back as far as it could go and waited until the precise moment where I could cleave the entire damn thing in two! I whipped my arm forwards with as much force as I could muster. The dagger travelled quickly through the air, unimpeded by the magical enhancement, and the arc carried the edge through the full length of the dismembered hand.

    Samantha gasped. A safe channel was cut through the centre, and the two remaining halves split away without the connective tissue. They crashed down onto the buildings that surrounded the bell tower, kicking up wood, stone and dust as they collapsed beneath their weight. A flood of blackened demon blood coursed through from the two bisected sides. It rushed across the streets, hopped up onto the cobble square, and splashed against our shoes. The stench of iron filled the air. The abandoned city block was now the spitting image of hell itself.

    A mad gambit. These demons were immensely powerful, but when incarnated into a physical body they had limits. They were no longer immersed in the boundless energies of the Veil. When they burned through their power like this, something was bound to give.

    ¡°Impressive,¡± it murmured directly into our brains.

    The heavy bog of blood started to congeal quickly, and soon enough the ground became too sticky and treacherous for us to force our way through. With that gambit dispensed of, the demon fell back on one last-gasp attempt to best us in combat.

    ¡°This impasse cannot continue.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you should go back to the Veil where you belong.¡±

    Obviously, it wasn¡¯t going to be that easy. I felt the air around us shift. The tides that swirled overhead accumulated and descended, surrounding its body and gathering within its palms.

    ¡°If I cannot kill you, then I shall simply be rid of you!¡±

    It brought those clawed hands together with an almighty clap. In an instant the entire world twisted and shifted around me, like the field of view in my eyes was being increased to an incredible extent. I grasped my head and tried not to let the sudden influx of information overload my brain.

    Holy shit!

    It was hard to keep my breakfast down. Whenever I moved my head it was like everything else was being fast-forwarded. The buildings and landmarks around me shifted in shape and size, growing longer and wider, and transforming every street and avenue into an endless path that stretched out across the horizon.

    ¡°Sam! Sam!¡± I called out. I closed my eyes and waved my arms around to try and find her.

    ¡°I¡¯m here!¡±

    I felt her hand grab my shoulder.

    ¡°Stick close. I can¡¯t drop the shield. It might still be waiting for us outside of... whatever the hell this is!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be sick!¡±

    I opened my eyes and felt a fresh sense of revulsion. We had to be standing in the same place as before. I could still smell the blood, and some of the warped shapes I made out were similar to the buildings I¡¯d seen in the market square. It was trying to confuse us by altering our perception, at least for the time being.

    Maybe that spell could be enhanced to physically transport us in reference to our sense of perspective. We couldn¡¯t be displaced if we didn¡¯t move. Those long and short roads wouldn¡¯t take us anywhere if we stay put. I clutched my knife tighter and felt a sense of paranoia run down my spine. I couldn¡¯t see where it was.

    ¡°Your gods should have thought twice about condemning you to this fate. No matter what boons they grant, I am just as capable of folding the primitive fabric of your worthless universe.¡±

    The horizon started to bend and twisted upwards into the sky. The flat ground in front of me transformed into a towering mountain, still adorned with the buildings, streets, rivers and factories of the city beyond. A warped lens was being used to manipulate the world around us. What we saw became real for only us. I felt the ground moving under our feet.

    Irrational was right. This was beyond any level of my comprehension. How did any of this work? What did the people outside of its sphere of influence see when they found us out in the market square, flailing around like a pair of fools? Durandia equipped us to deal with this. We needed to reckon with the weapons that we already possessed and apply them in the correct manner.

    ¡°Maria, what should we do?¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s reshaping the world around us, maybe we need to use our magic to do the same. We¡¯ve been blessed by the Goddess. There¡¯s no way this second-rate demon asshole can pull the wool over our eyes!¡±

    Easier said than done, especially when the gravity being exerted onto our bodies suddenly changed. Samantha squealed and grabbed a hold of my body as we plummeted down towards the nearest building, crashing onto the plastered exterior wall with a heavy thump.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± she gasped.

    That hurt. I rolled over onto my stomach and came face-to-face with one of the building¡¯s windows. We were seeing the world getting turned upside down and inside out, and when it did so we were brought along for the ride. Looking up I could see the bell tower where Sloan was supposed to be hiding, although that tower was looking longer and longer with every passing second.

    ¡°We have to focus!¡± I explained, ¡°We can¡¯t let these tricks keep distracting us!¡±

    ¡°But where do we even start? There¡¯s no textbook or tutors to copy now!¡±

    ¡°I already said that this is about something more than memorizing a list of instructions, Sam. This power¡¯s extent ends where our imagination does. Think big! You can stitch all of these pieces back together, and I can erase what isn¡¯t supposed to be! We can compress this all back into shape, like we¡¯re moulding something from clay!¡±

    One of the buildings was turning inwards, threatening to crush us against the surface of the one we were sitting on.

    ¡°It¡¯s now or never! We¡¯ve got to do it!¡±

    Samantha nodded and stamped down on her fears. She hooked her arm around mine to keep us close together and held out her palms.

    ¡°Picture the city as it should be. Enlarge what has been reduced, and I¡¯ll erase what has been enlarged.¡±

    This distorted painting of the real world was a weapon being pointed at our throats. We didn¡¯t need to gather magic from the air. The godly powers we wielded were beyond such considerations. All we had to do was believe that we could fight back and win.

    Take a deep breath and become the tool that Durandia wanted.

 Chapter 185

    The power of the perception manipulation that the Bloodcrowned King used was fundamental. How could you hope to strike back against an enemy that interfered with the information your brain received from the source? Not only was it impossible to strike the beast and whatever else it chose to protect, but those perception alterations became our physical reality too.

    The city was warping and bending like fabric in the wind. It turned over on itself, pushing building against building and allowing us to see far beyond the horizon, across the hills and towards the rural outlying areas. Even on the ground level there were hundreds of other such discrepancies. Doorways became tiny and impassable, or huge and unreachable. That which was human sized a moment before would grow or shrink to frustrate our efforts.

    ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°As I¡¯ll ever be.¡±

    Samantha and I expanded our focuses and closed our eyes to block out the disorientating view of the city shifting around us. What we needed to conceptualize was abstract in nature, and that was where our powers were the most dangerous. We were cutting away the chaff that the demon was summoning and manipulating us with.

    I reached out using my invisible hands and wiped the board clean. Samantha quickly found herself following in my wake, tethering the remaining pieces back together and putting things back to the way they should be. The gears ground to a halt, and the damage was being rewound.

    The King didn¡¯t like our meddling. As soon as we found ourselves on solid footing again, I overheard the flapping of wings and the scratching of claws. I snapped my eyes open and turned on the demon with my hands outstretched, deploying my shield before it could attack us.

    ¡°Why do you struggle? This is folly. There is nothing worth preserving in this realm.¡±

    ¡°You demons need human emotion to live.¡±

    ¡°You are nothing more than a single flickering candle, amongst millions. Your death shall not affect the balance between our worlds. That mortal form will wither away into dust, your soul cast into the sunless sea, and your memory will fade from the collective.¡±

    ¡°So why are you struggling too? You came here to obtain that crystal from Landon for a reason! To save yourself, or to get revenge on the gods ¨C I care not for your reasons, but I do object to your manner of acting above it all. Your motives are no more complex than ours. Your act to perpetuate your existence, like all living things.¡±

    ¡°To live as a mortal is merely the first step on a long road. It would be a mercy to untether from those rotting husks early and see the truth of the world for what it is.¡±

    Being forced to live in that hellscape, fighting for survival in a different way was not appealing to my ears. I could tell from the way it spoke that it considered those battles the sole reason for its existence. To claw and bite, and to weather your life down to a fine edge that could be used to win any fight.

    What kind of life was that? Did this demon grow tired of being able to see something more in existence? No music or voices, or smells or sights or tastes. There was nothing superior about that kind of existence. It preened and boasted and tried to threaten us ¨C but at the end of the day it was a damned fool. No wise person wanted to live a life of nothing but conflict.

    ¡°Life is a load of shit, but it¡¯s a hell of a lot better than whatever you¡¯re proposing.¡±

    Samantha looked around us and awed at the changes our magic had made to the environment. Pieces of the world had been cut free from their bondage and removed in rigid shapes. Several square segments of the surrounding buildings had been excised from the rest of the structure and left floating in the air, offering a cross-section of what hid inside. I could see the living room of some hapless resident behind the horned crest of the King, split into a small corner and separated from the building it occupied.

    There were hundreds of these displaced pieces. They were sections of the road and dirt below, or rooms and sections from buildings that surrounded the market, or even pieces of the sky that were out of place. Some of the clouds were cut harshly at a strange angle, a clear indication that the entire fabric of the world was ours to play with as we pleased. I was happy to see that there was nobody inside of those cross-sections, in fact there wasn¡¯t a single other soul in this city aside from us.

    That was a mystery I couldn¡¯t find answers to. The Bloodcrowned King wasn¡¯t exactly interested in talking about anything more than our reasons for resisting its will. A very prideful creature considering that it was begging for scraps from someone like Sloan.

    It was something to be thankful for though. Having to dance around the million plus residents of the cities whilst managing this was too big an ask for us. We had no experience with this magic, and it would be easy for us to overreach and harm them by accident. For the time being we had some solid ground to stand on and a new type of impasse for the King to worry about. We could undo whatever manipulation he caused to our surroundings.

    It wanted us to get stuck in here, helpless and disoriented. We weren¡¯t entirely free from its powers though. I could still feel the pull of vertigo trying to meddle with my depth perception. Attacking it was going to be difficult. With my knife drawn and the battle lines drawn anew, it was time to see if we could match up to the big talk.

    The ¡®conceptual¡¯ power of nihility extended to many domains. In that instant I decided to erase the gap that existed between me and the demon. I flew through the air at an impossible speed ¨C so quickly that it was not something any being could hope to react to. The physical space between us disappeared, and with some deft manipulation I could propel myself in a form of teleportation.

    It looked at me, floating overhead with my weapon held aloft and ready to split its body in two. With a flap of its wings it fled backwards, barely managing to avoid my downward slash. The nihility-empowered edge continued past the tip of the blade and sliced through the nearest building, cutting clean through it; brick, tile, wood and foundation all.

    ¡°They made a mistake by empowering you.¡±

    ¡°If you could fight as well as you talk, then this would be over already!¡±

    I teleported after it rapidly in succession, closing the distance over and over again whilst it attempted to fly away and evade my attacks. I considered attempting to delete it completely as a nuclear option, but it was impossible to do without the ability to aim accurately. It was the one effective counter to a power that could delete anything from existence.

    It grabbed a nearby fragment of the street and threw it at me. I batted it aside using my dagger by splitting it down the middle, only to find another following up from behind. I teleported through and swung at the demon again, only to find that it was ascending higher into the air. Gravity took a hold of me and I fell back down onto solid ground. Samantha extended a pillar of earth from the floor to catch me.

    ¡°I can barely keep up with you! You¡¯re flying all over the damn place!¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯s still not fast enough. I need to land a killing blow on it or we¡¯ll be stuck here while the city goes down in flames!¡±

    Frustration bloomed in my chest. Any other kind of foe would have been caught out by that first attack and destroyed then and there, but Sloan had summoned a being from another, harsh dimension which had the ability to float through the air and keep me from eviscerating the matter it resided within. It didn¡¯t need air or even a physical body. I had to strike it directly and completely.

    I went at it again. The demon tightened its grip over my ability to perceive, twisting the physical world we recreated and causing my next attack to go astray, destroying yet another building in the process. My stomach was revolting at the harsh treatment, and my vision blurred from the extreme speeds I was traveling at without a moment¡¯s rest.

    Even if I saturated a huge area with my magic there was no guarantee that it would sit there and let me hit it. Beyond that it would cost a significant amount of energy to do so, and if there was more trouble on the horizon then I would be left without my most effective weapon.

    ¡°Let me help!¡± Samantha yelled.

    That was when it decided to strike. It swung out at me, clipping one of my legs with an arm and sending me tumbling through the air and into the nearest window. I crashed through onto a wooden floor and rolled for two meters, which just-so-happened to be the edge of the building segment floating in the air. Instinct drove me to grab the edge of the cube and hold on for dear life.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    That hurt.

    It was worse than getting shot. It was closer to being human-sized than before, but that didn¡¯t mean it lacked power in those physical characteristics. It had astutely located a moment of vulnerability during our duel and swatted me halfway across the city when the opportunity arose.

    The Horr crashed through the wall and landed in front of me. Before it could deliver the finishing blow, Samantha appeared from behind and cast a spell of her own. The tendons and bones in its left arm froze in a raised position, unable to be lowered to strike me. It roared and twisted around to try and kill her instead, but she was already leaping away, bringing forth another piece of floating earth to break her fall and make her escape.

    ¡°Insolence!¡±

    That was its first mistake. I clambered back onto the platform using all of my strength and swung again. This time the blade met its mark, slashing through both arms on the left side and cutting them loose. The King staggered away and used the remaining arms to hold itself steady on the other side. The entire section wobbled from the weight of its immense body.

    When I fought the hound on the train, it was obvious that normal attacks had little effect on these semi-undead creatures. Nihility could slice right through them. They puppeteered physical bodies to interact with our world. They couldn¡¯t regenerate that dead tissue once it was severed. That wound would last for the rest of its time in our dimension.

    I wish it hit it in the head and ended this madness. It took every bit of my concentration not to miss completely, gluing my eyes to the tip of my laser-like blade and keeping them locked to it during the arc of my swing. Even that was difficult. The chance of hitting it in the head the first time around was next to none. I squared up again and locked my feet into a firm position.

    ¡°Come and get me - you ugly sack of shit!¡±

    <hr>

    The train station in the middle of the city was being overrun by thousands of desperate people. It had started almost a week ago when the fighting in the streets became more vicious. The bystanders in their homes could see the writing on the wall. The pressure was building, and soon it would explode into a full-scale civil war in the most densely populated area in the country.

    But this was even more dire than before.

    Marco Fisichella stood atop the stairs and looked down into the main atrium, from where he could see all five platforms which were completely swamped with people pushing and shoving, trying to get the last open spots on each train as they left the city and fled into the countryside.

    He was sleeping with his bags when the commotion started. The daylight coming in through the glass roof atop the building had turned a malicious shade of crimson red, normally a portent of bad weather according to the superstitious fishermen. Initially writing it off as a trick of the light, Marco soon overheard some of the conversations from the recent arrivals who were stuck in the same position.

    ¡°It¡¯s madness out there! There¡¯s a great bloody demon killing everyone it sees!¡±

    Marco tipped the brim of his hat upwards and approached the pair of strangers to hear their discussion more clearly. It was difficult to decipher beneath the shouting and whistling coming from the platforms.

    ¡°Really? No wonder this place is a madhouse. Every single person with the cash for a ticket is trying to catch the last train out of here. There¡¯s no way we can fight through all of them!¡±

    He¡¯d seen his fair share of fistfights breaking out between the rowdy passengers. He had a bad feeling about this. If he couldn¡¯t catch the train out of town, then there was no reason to be in a hotspot with so many other people and the police keeping order. The risk of getting caught was too high.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumours that there¡¯s even more of them out there! I don¡¯t know why the police haven¡¯t barricaded those bloody doors yet.¡±

    ¡°Because they want to let as many people in here as possible. They¡¯ll get a proper talking to if they lock them out and get ¡®em killed.¡±

    ¡°Does it matter? Letting those things break in here and slaughter everyone is just as bad!¡±

    It didn¡¯t matter. Marco could tell that this building was a total death trap no matter what they decided to do. Too many entrances and exits to keep an eye on, and plenty of obstacles and other people to get tripped up by while trying to flee. He had no faith that they could stop any type of monster, assuming they weren¡¯t full of shit. Marco had seen the news about the cult¡¯s summoning ritual at the fort ¨C but he was always sceptical of what he read in the papers. They were very sophisticated in manipulating public opinion, and sensationalism was the method of the day.

    What a goddess damned joke this was.

    Marco shook his head and headed back to his suitcase, picking it up and wandering back towards the entrance. Being around so many strangers was making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. This station was the first place any bad bastard looking for trouble would visit. The huge crowd would attract a lot of attention. He had a good intuition for that type of thing.

    Unfortunately for him, his decision to leave the station came a few minutes too late. The crowd on the platforms roared in fear as the crack of gunfire rumbled into the building from outside. Marco gripped his luggage tight and hurried down the steps, onto the street where the fighting was unfolding.

    ¡°What the hell...¡±

    His eyes were drawn invariably to the swirling maelstrom of red energy that was shooting upwards into the clouds. It didn¡¯t look like that when he was awake earlier. More gunfire forced him to look down the avenue, where a group of soldiers were attempting to fight off a blood-soaked hound with a gaping maw of a thousand teeth.

    The profane beast was unlike any he¡¯d ever seen. Their gunfire appeared to be mostly ineffective, only chipping away worthless flesh and striking solid bone. There were dead bodies strewn around the checkpoint, of both the soldiers and the demons now assailing the city.

    One of the unlucky men couldn¡¯t put his foe down fast enough. The beast leapt through the air and came down on top of him, surely knocking him unconscious from the impact, before ripping into his chest and neck using its savage claws. The rest of the soldiers rounded the monster while it was distracted, focusing their fire on its skull-like head and beating it until a weak spot finally gave way.

    The beast wailed, with blood flying in every direction, before it finally died under their combined assault. Marco almost twisted around and socked the man behind him, feeling a firm hand gripping his shoulder and trying to pull him away.

    ¡°It¡¯s not safe here, sir!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not any safer inside. Have you seen how many people are crammed into there?¡±

    It was a young police officer, trying to maintain some kind of order amongst the chaos unfolding in the city.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend leaving, even if the building is occupied.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the point? I¡¯m not gonna¡¯ be able to catch a train. They¡¯re not coming back to this mayhem willingly.¡±

    It was absurd to be having this type of argument at the same time as a wave of demons attacking the nearby military checkpoints. Marco turned on the smaller man and scowled, hoping that he would take the hint and go bother someone who cared about what the police thought.

    Looking over his shoulder and down the other end of the road revealed a worrying sight barrelling straight towards them. Another dog-like beast was charging with murderous intent, and Marco didn¡¯t have his gun free from his luggage. He dropped his suitcase to the ground and wrapped his arm around the officer¡¯s neck, unholstering his pistol and keeping him in place while using his shoulder as a bipod for his aim.

    There was no time to worry about the consequences. He understood that it was life or death for them both. He used every bit of his nerve and skill to target the beast¡¯s weakest spot. There was a fleshy mass protruding from its chest, warped from the flesh of another dead human and worn like morbid garb.

    He pulled the trigger and hoped to all that was holy that he hit the mark.

    The bullets flew through the air and ripped into the canine demon. The police officer flinched at the deafening sound of his own pistol being fired so close to his ear hole. The beast staggered and made the following shots even harder when combined with its incredible speed.

    Marco was no amateur though. He held back on the rest of the magazine and unleashed a second volley when the first failed to stop it dead. The next two shots finished the job, tearing apart the makeshift physical body and causing it to slump over on the paving stones.

    There was a moment of peace. Marco stepped away and regarded the deceased creature with a wary look.

    ¡°What in the Goddess¡¯ good name is that horrible thing?¡±

    The officer twisted around and stared at it.

    ¡°Who knows? They¡¯re all over the place now. That was a mighty fine shot you just made. Are you former army? Police?¡±

    Marco flipped the pistol in his palm and handed it back. The officer ejected the mostly empty magazine and replaced it with his backup. He couldn¡¯t rely on this low-power firearm to cut through the armoured demons in a tough situation. He and the other police had been told to help evacuate civilians and keep order so that the army could take care of them.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m a hobbyist. It¡¯s not unlike shooting a clay pigeon.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m mighty thankful for it.¡±

    Marco opened his trunk and rifled through his belongings, emerging with his own pistol. He slid it into the pocket of his coat along with some extra ammunition.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯ll forgive me for bringing this out in public.¡±

    The officer tapped the side of his nose; ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything. Be careful around everyone else, there¡¯s a curfew, no weapons allowed in civilian hands.¡±

    They had bigger problems to worry about than the rebels now. Marco was willing to take the risk. A few other bystanders were emerging from the doors, having also given up on getting a spot on the last trains out of town. A good hiding place was as good as it was going to get. Marco was well-versed in hiding, but that was usually from the police, not a bloodthirsty pack of demon dogs...

    The situation went from bad to worse, several more of them skidding around the corner and making their presence known. The onlookers screamed in fear and scattered inside and out. Marco grabbed his trunk and made a break for it, running across the street and scampering up a fire escape on one of the nearby buildings. Every day he thanked the government for tightening up those safety regulations after several devastating urban fires.

    The dog was biting at his heels. He climbed up the ladder in the nick of time, avoiding the crushing jaws coming down around his left leg. He did not stick around to gloat. He was already up the steps and close to the roof before the beast could figure out how the ladder worked. It eventually got bored and left in search of easier prey.

    Marco was not happy with what we saw. Smoke rose across the cityscape, and there were bodies contorted into scarecrows by savage red spikes all over the place. It was complete bedlam. The military had lost control of the situation and now it was spreading unrestrained. He leaned on the edge of the railing and sighed.

    ¡°I bet that meddler is in the middle of this,¡± he murmured.

    They needed a miracle. Perhaps Maria Walston-Carter was the one to deliver it.

 Chapter 186

    The fighting only grew more intense after I removed two of the King¡¯s arms during that first round. None of us were holding back now, dragged into the malaise of reckless battle. I could only hope that the buildings around us were as empty as they appeared, and this wasn¡¯t all some kind of horrible illusion intended to make us take the lives of thousands of innocent bystanders.

    We were the only three living creatures in this place. Perception became reality, and now I was trapped inside of a bubble of its making. Here it could cut loose and unleash every trick it had in store without concerning itself with the collateral damage. There was no risk of killing its contractor or damaging the crystal.

    Another building collapsed from the inside out as the supports inside withered away into nothing. As the top floors tumbled down towards the street, they grew larger in size while getting closer to my position. I summoned a protective magic field around my body and waited for the chaos to end. Dust and debris filled the stale air and blocked me from sight.

    The demon skulked around, looking for me and Sam. I dug my way through the rubble, keeping an umbrella over my head so that the falling bricks and planks of wood didn¡¯t strike me out of nowhere. I emerged on the other side and launched a retaliatory attack, the magic blade carving through the paving stones like a knife through butter.

    In a blink I was elsewhere; the space between us torn into nothing and my physical body propelled at speed through the unknown. I came at it again like a bolt of thunder from the blue, extending the sharpened edge of my blade and cutting horizontally. The demon ducked, and the tip sliced through another building, slicing it clean it two and causing the entire structure to collapse.

    Careful considerations of saving energy for later was the last thing on my mind. The Bloodcrowned King turned its odious gaze unto me and tried to create distance between us. The road and block we were fighting around stretched and stretched and stretched, becoming longer and more difficult to navigate. I knew that walking that path would only lead to an intersection that was too small for my body to squeeze through, as the exit was now far enough away to appear as much.

    I flew up into the air. My ears popped from the sudden change in altitude. I felt horribly sick, right to the pit of my stomach, as my body was pushed through an unreality that it was never built to endure. The King was perched atop one of the residential buildings.

    ¡°You need to hold it in place somehow!¡± I yelled.

    Samantha was waiting in the wings for the demon to pass by. It flew across the rooftop and over her position, and it was in that window of opportunity that she struck using her magic. The demon¡¯s chest suddenly inflated outwards, bursting through the jagged bones and causing guts and entrails to tumble outwards from the breach.

    It took evasive action, diving below the roof-level of the buildings and onto the street beneath us. Samantha leaned over the edge and tried to keep a bead on its location. The entire structure shook as it crashed through the front and headed out the other side. It flew back up into the air and tried to take out Samantha for her impertinence. I put a stop to that by slashing at it with my blade and distracting it again.

    What happened next was difficult to understand.

    It flew backwards and reached out with one of its remaining two arms. As the palm turned to face me, it slowly grew in size and scale. It got larger and larger, until it was big enough to block my view of the surroundings. It was making me smaller by getting further away, and that meant it could make its arms much larger. Its point of reference was the only one that mattered, and it had realized that it would have to do something drastic to beat us.

    I was too slow to react. The bony fingers wrapped around my body and clenched. I gritted my teeth and yelped in pain. An immense and painful amount of pressure was being used to crush my body from all sides. My knife was forced from my hands. Samantha tried to intervene, but she was also too slow to catch it before it retracted the warped limb and took off into the air.

    The force of the wind was so powerful that it stung my eyes. We flew across the city in the blink of an eye, and Samantha was caught in the shifting tides as the entire world suddenly compressed down into a smaller size. The building she was standing on shrunk beneath her feet and caused her to fall, crashing through an entire city block and wrecking it all.

    This new, smaller world meant the demon could drag me wherever it chose. We crossed a great distance in a matter of seconds. I caught a brief glimpse of Samantha climbing back to her feet to give chase, knowing that she would get left behind if everything grew back to normal scale once more.

    ¡°You will end here, and I will continue!¡±

    Supposedly we were hundreds of feet in the air. I took a deep breath and held on with all of my strength. That iron grip remained firm and tried to squeeze the life out of me. I couldn¡¯t use my magic. I couldn¡¯t focus. Lances of pain shot through my head and dragged me out of my focused state every time I tried to move.

    The earth was rocketing towards us faster than terminal velocity. As we fell, the sight of the round theatre building below expanded. The world was getting larger, the space between becoming stretched again. I used every bit of grit in my body to focus. If I didn¡¯t focus ¨C this would be my grave.

    We crashed through the ceiling of the parliament building and down into the main chamber. I only just managed to stop my momentum by teleporting away moments before we hit the ground. Tables and chairs went flying in every direction, with deadly shards of glass raining down through the newly-made hole in the roof. They slashed through the King¡¯s rotting flesh and caused blood to spurt onto the luxurious carpet.

    I might have avoided the worst of the attack ¨C but the sheer amount of pressure exuded by its clawed fingers had almost crushed my ribcage into dust. I rolled over on the floor and groaned in agony. The injury to my leg was screaming out at me, and I was certain that some of my bones had been broken from the impact.

    The King was slumped over in the middle of the debate chamber. Things were still out of place. The tables and chairs around me were smaller than they normally were. The building was around half the size versus what I recalled from our school trip. The ornate ceilings and tiled walls enclosed us.

    Get up. You have to get up.

    I pushed back using my hands and sat on my knees, emulating the pose that the King was performing across from me. We faced one another in the atrium of Walser¡¯s most famous building. It wasn¡¯t real ¨C but the details were mostly correct. This was the collective perception of this place, painted by the minds of millions of citizens.

    ¡°I¡¯m not... dead yet...¡±

    ¡°You are always dying. Marching step by step towards oblivion, towards non-existence.¡±

    Every nerve in my body protested at how stupid I was being. I stood on shaking legs and started to circle around the chamber, staring down my foe whilst trying to maintain my protective shield. This was no time to be preserving my strength. What good would that be if I died before getting the chance to use it?

    ¡°I warned you.¡±

    ¡°I cannot break a contract once it is signed. Save your words for a pair of open ears.¡±

    It was getting cocky. It thought it had the situation under complete control, but it was already making a big mistake by letting me change my positioning in the theatre hall. There was a slight incline that led to the doors, once used for theatre seating, but now mostly removed to allow rows of desks and chairs to be placed inside for legislators. If Samantha was going to come to my rescue, which I was certain of, she¡¯d come through those doors.

    I would have to protect her in that case.

    The demon didn¡¯t move. It knelt there and glared at me with its swivelling, bloodshot eyes. I could see every fine detail in the form, stitched together from the flesh of others and contorted into shape. It was propelled by a force I couldn¡¯t name ¨C but demonstrated an incredible destructive power.

    This was a stare down. A single wrong move could end with the King losing more limbs, or me being turned into a fine paste against one of the walls. The doors behind me slammed open and Samantha charged into the chamber, stopping by my side and glaring at it.

    ¡°We have to hit it with everything we¡¯ve got,¡± I declared. We couldn¡¯t outlast it in a straight fight.

    ¡°Okay...¡±

    ¡°Just target it with your energy and let it fly. Don¡¯t worry about collateral damage or preserving your mana. This is our last chance.¡±

    ¡°Foolishness!¡±

    The demon barked out and sprang into action. The round chamber turned and warped like an oil painting. We held firm to our positions at the top of the ramp and held out our hands. We weren¡¯t going to be distracted by these cheap tricks for any longer!

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    We unified our magical senses and reached out to target the entirety of the room outside of our personal space. My chest burned and the breath was ripped from my lungs. We drew forth every drop of power we could muster and pushed it outwards in a great wave. The blast formed a solid wall of black light, swallowing everything in its way and disintegrating the ground beneath as it travelled across the room and towards the King.

    Where the wave destroyed, Samantha¡¯s magic healed. Everything that was turned into ash reformed right in front of our eyes. The King realized its mistake too late to act. It couldn¡¯t use hemomancy on us with the wall blocking the way, and any projectiles would fail to reach us too. It also couldn¡¯t warp our perception to lead our attack astray.

    The wave swept over its body.

    A confluence of our powers, creation and destruction, flowed into the centre of the chamber and created a maelstrom of black and white energy. The demon roared and attempted to escape, but the rapid decay of its tissue and energy was combined with equally fast regeneration. Flesh and bone flaked away into the ether, only to grow back moments later.

    ¡°You cannot destroy me! I am ageless, deathless!¡±

    But now its bold words sounded like nothing but pleas for mercy. Its eyes glared at me like daggers, begging for me to cease the indescribable agony of being unmade and remade hundreds of times over. The demon understood that it was being drained through this process. Every second it came closer to becoming nothing but dust in the cosmic winds.

    ¡°Everything has its end, demon. Perhaps some rest for your blackened soul will do you good!¡±

    With a final terrible wail, the body composed of deadened flesh and scar tissue started to wither away into nothing. The energy holding it together was being expended ¨C and it could no longer keep a hold on our reality. It clawed and begged, trying to stop us before we could finish the job, but without the strength to do so it was a worthless, last gasp effort.

    ¡°I... will not... vanish... here!¡±

    Game over.

    The cacophony of magical energies continued to swirl out of control, spreading across the city and covering everything in blinding light and all-consuming darkness. Samantha held on tight to my arm as a powerful gust of wind blew and almost forced us off of our feet.

    ¡°Hold on tight!¡± I warned.

    ¡°To what?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, anything!¡±

    Our bodies were brought along for the ride. Our feet left solid ground, and everything that was collated into a singular point in the middle of the city. Buildings, streets, rivers and trees were sucked into the black hole, and we were being pulled towards it too. Tumbling down, tumbling down ¨C there was no purchase for us to find. I prayed to Durandia that this was what we were supposed to do and closed my eyes.

    How could I ever describe the sensation of flying towards the gravitational pull of a miniature black hole, before everything cutting out at once like a television being turned off at the source? Our bodies were being pulled into long threads. The blood rushed to my brain, and for a brief moment I tasted antimatter under my tongue.

    Solid ground appeared at my feet.

    And just like that, we were back in the ¡®real¡¯ world. It was the market square, exactly as we¡¯d left it at the start of our battle. There was no sign of the Bloodcrowned King, but the damage it caused remained.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Samantha wondered, struggling to get her bearings.

    I tried to settle my stomach. Teleporting so much made me feel terribly ill. With a cough and a hack, a glob of acid and phlegm escaped from my throat and onto the ground. Samantha frowned and stepped back.

    ¡°That¡¯s the most uncouth thing I¡¯ve ever seen you do.¡±

    ¡°I already told you - it¡¯s all a performance,¡± I groaned.

    ¡°Is it really a performance when you do it all the time?¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°No. Not really.¡±

    I felt sick. Sick as a dog. It was the experience of twelve different hangovers overlapping each other. Samantha was a little green in the face too. She covered her mouth with a hand and burped into it, trying to keep the bile down in her gut. I wondered if the Gods felt sick when they abused their powers in such a manner...

    A few minute¡¯s rest was what we really needed, but we didn¡¯t have time. Landon Sloan was waiting for us in the market hall, somewhere close to the base of the clock tower that jutted outwards from the front-centre of the building. Pushing myself up to my knees and looking towards the balcony, I saw him staring down at us with shock written onto his face.

    He couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. He was certain that our fates were sealed when the King dragged us out of our reality and into a pocket dimension. We were the last ones standing; injured, exhausted, nauseous, but still very much alive. A pair of teenage girls had killed the most dangerous Horr ever summoned into the waking world.

    ¡°We have to finish this.¡±

    Samantha helped me up to my feet.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no getting away from this. I¡¯ll make sure he lives to give people the whole truth about what happened here.¡±

    She nodded and pushed me onwards. We made our way to the front doors of the building and went inside. I drew my gun and kept my eyes peeled for any sign of an ambush from Sloan. He was panicking now. He was unpredictable and dangerous ¨C although there was no sign of him attempting to flee. Where could he even go if he wanted to try?

    I rushed up the steps and towards the bell tower with Samantha in pursuit behind me. I could remember where Sloan was hiding before the fight started, and I assumed he was still there waiting for his servant to return and continue the wholesale slaughter of everyone who¡¯d ever crossed him. There was no easy way to accept what happened here. Sloan was always the one who won out in the end, until today.

    We kicked the door down and walked out onto the balcony. Sloan tensed up and turned to face us.

    ¡°It¡¯s impossible! There¡¯s no way that you defeated the Bloodcrowned King! That crystal is so bountiful that it summoned the most powerful demon in the Veil!¡±

    ¡°The proof is right in front of your eyes, Sloan. It¡¯s going to take more than that to stop us.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a lot of bloody nerve!¡± Samantha growled, ¡°How many innocent people have you butchered for this stupid plan?¡±

    Sloan¡¯s eyes flitted from left to right ¨C seeking an escape route that was not opening up for him. He was stuck here with us, at the point of my gun, facing the very real prospect of dying so quickly that he wouldn¡¯t be able to comprehend that it happened. He could try his luck leaping over the stone bannister and falling three stories if he felt like breaking his ankles and everything else.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you understand what I¡¯m doing here? Don¡¯t you have any pride in Walser? This research, this revelation, it¡¯s the biggest discovery since the invention of the machines that power our factories and light our homes! A realization of such immense scale that it will once again usher in a new age, just as magic fell out of favour a few decades ago!¡±

    ¡°Pride?¡± I scoffed, ¡°If you had any pride in this country, you wouldn¡¯t be so happy to destroy it and terrorize the people who live here. You don¡¯t care what happens so long as your name gets engraved into the history books. This is all about you. It always has been.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a horrible man! I don¡¯t even want to think about what you did to your son,¡± Samantha added.

    ¡°I never owed Charlie anything! His duty was to carry on our family¡¯s legacy ¨C and he wasn¡¯t strong enough to do it. Not smart, not athletic, not sound of mind or body. How could such a failure have possibly been sired by me? Because of him I resolved to do enough for the next five generations myself! No more paper pushers and glib nobles holding us back. An enlightened Walser, bravely forging ahead by assigning leaders through their merit.¡±

    I shook my head, ¡°I¡¯m not wasting my breath trying to convince you to stop. Your demon is gone, and I¡¯ve got you at gunpoint. I only have to pull the trigger to be rid of the second of these three problems. Next I¡¯ll be heading back to the museum and destroying that odious machine.¡±

    ¡°What does it matter? Even though you¡¯ve killed the King, there¡¯s still an innumerable number of demons waiting to come through and finish the job!¡±

    I closed the distance between us and gripped Sloan by the front of his jacket, pushing him closer to the edge of the railing, threatening to throw him from the roof and let his body splatter against the destroyed courtyard below.

    ¡°You think it¡¯s worth destroying the world just to get petty revenge on a handful of people? You can¡¯t even formulate that rage into a coherent position. The only thing you¡¯re doing is killing, nothing more and nothing less.¡±

    ¡°I revolutionized the field of demonology! Genta Cambry and his ilk have been gatekeeping that knowledge for hundreds of years, and even they subscribed to nothing but rank superstition about how it works! I¡¯m transforming those tall tales into real science! Once the bloodletting is over, my new soldiers will sweep across the continent and ensure that Walser stands for one million years! They¡¯ll build statues in my honour and worship the ground I walk on!¡±

    We were too different in so many ways. Even when I was a killer for cash I never acted with such disregard for the safety of the people who weren¡¯t my targets. It was a job. I was a professional. It would have been so easy for me to kick down the door and pull a trigger. Doing all of that without collateral damage, and whilst getting away, was the true test of my skills.

    I took pride in that. Sloan did not. He was going to see his plot through regardless of how many innocent bystanders died as a result. In his eyes the final outcome would be so effective that it was worth besmirching his name and coating his hands in their blood. He betrayed his own aspirations though. Why on earth would they ever worship a man like this?

    ¡°How do we turn it off?¡±

    Sloan laughed in my face.

    ¡°You can¡¯t. It¡¯s a chain reaction. I designed the machine to proliferate regardless of your interference.¡±

    ¡°And how were you planning on stopping it when your plan ran its course?¡±

    ¡°The intricacies are not yours to know,¡± he scoffed.

    Samantha grumbled, ¡°He has no idea, does he? I can smell the bullshit from here.¡±

    I tightened my grip and pushed him closer over the precipice, ¡°You¡¯re right. Did you think that your natural brilliance would save the day, and come up with an elegant solution once the chips are down? This is already completely out of control. You can¡¯t fix this even if you try.¡±

    Sloan scowled furiously at my minimization of his intelligence.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a fool. It is child¡¯s play to rectify the problem.¡±

    We were going to have to solve this the hard way. This lunatic wasn¡¯t going to tell us what his full plan was, but I suspected it had to do with the demon we had summarily deleted from reality a short while ago. Only that thing had the power to destroy these rampaging beasts and claim the crystal. Once the contract was closed, the portal would shut with it.

    ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll have to destroy the crystal ourselves, then. Without the King here to get in the way, I should be able to reach it with my magic.¡±

    Samantha gritted her teeth, ¡°And what about all of the other demons that have come through?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not going to be easy. We¡¯ll have to be alert and ready to use our magic if we run into them. Can I trust you to watch my back?¡±

    She seemed offended by the question; ¡°Of course you can! I¡¯ll stop them dead if they try to get to us.¡±

    Sloan tried to wrestle free from my hold. I pulled him away from the edge and walloped him around the side of the head using my pistol. His unconscious body slumped to the floor with a thud. A pair of handcuffs I borrowed from my mother were secured around his wrists and tied to the nearest metal rod to keep him in place. Bringing him with us was a waste of time and effort.

    ¡°He deserves a lot worse than what I can do to him.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t much like the idea of doling out cruel punishment, but with how many people he¡¯s killed... they¡¯re not going to have a choice, are they?¡±

    ¡°Executing him would be easy. They should throw him in a cell, toss away the key, and let him live long enough to see his reputation in tatters. That¡¯s all that matters to him in the end.¡±

    I could barely stand up straight. Did we have enough gas in the tank to make it all the way back to the museum whilst fighting a horde of smaller demons? I crossed my fingers and hoped that Durandia hadn¡¯t miscalculated when she put together this long-winded plan of hers.

    Sam tugged on my shoulder, ¡°Let¡¯s go. Daylight¡¯s burning.¡±