Duke Cyril blinked open his eyes, watching the sunlight filter in through the window. He lifted his head up and looked down. There, his right leg was missing. Of all of the body parts that he could have lost, the leg was the one he had been least concerned about. Prosthetics had improved greatly, and the injury was below the knee.

  Healing magic could restore limbs, but generally only if the original flesh was intact and the wound was less than a day old. If it was crushed or stolen, it became a more difficult prospect. High-level healers didn’t need the original flesh, just a fresh wound. Either way, it didn’t matter—that useless lump of blackened flesh had long ago lost its purpose.

  The duke laid there for a while, reflecting on what the days prior had held. Belcourt Asheford. The First Inquisitor had returned. If he was back in action, that meant that the demons were plotting something huge. Belcourt certainly wouldn’t be involved in smaller schemes. He had sent people to investigate the tracking magic that he left behind in the wound he’d made, but Belcourt had been shrewd enough to notice the mark and send his people on a wild goose chase.

  The Student Ambassadors had comported themselves admirably, springing into action to rescue the labor union from an attack. Belcourt hadn’t managed to do any serious harm. It might sound like a victory on paper, but by Cyril’s estimation it was a stalemate. He hadn’t been able to uncover any new information, just like in all prior incidents.

  I need something. Anything, Duke Cyril thought. What will I need to do? Start an Inquisition in Riverra? The rot must be purged.

  He waited for a while, and there was a knock at his door. He turned his head to look and called out, “Enter.”

  The doors opened wide, and Walter entered. “Your Grace, I have some news.”

  “Share.”

  “The members of Heavenwatch Monastery have returned. They claim to have been working in concert with you to smoke out demons. They… they claim to have found a portal to the Hells, thanks to you,” Walter said hesitantly.

  Duke Cyril blinked a few times. “Excuse me?”

  ***

  Back when this story was being planned…

  “And why are you so certain that Duke Cyril will be a satisfactory scapegoat?” Lucian asked.

  “Because when people have misfortunes befall them, it’s much easier to think of old enemies rather than consider the possibility of new ones,” Aurelia said.

  Lucian considered that. He had some knowledge of the fact that Cyril was responsible for shutting down the Inquisition.

  “Why are you so certain?” Miriam asked his question.

  “Because I’ve spoken to Belcourt plenty of times before.”

  “Not enough to know he was an Inquisitor, evidently,” Lucian cut in. “Elsewise you might’ve sniffed me out.”

  Aurelia rolled her eyes. “He specifically highlighted Duke Cyril as a person to avoid. I can guarantee you this will divert Belcourt’s attention.” Aurelia smiled cheekily. “I can almost tell you what he’ll think.”

  ***

  “What exactly do you mean, they’ve discovered a portal to the Hells?” Belcourt demanded. “I destroyed the portal. I destroyed any trace of it.”

  “Not that portal, master. Another,” the messenger, a trembling human, delivered. “They found another portal in Riverra.”

  Belcourt walked away, clenching his head with his hand. Duke Cyril… or was it Aurelia and Cyril in concert? He had visited Vivari’s safehouse. Ruminian’s body would’ve dissolved to ash, but not Vivari’s. Her body had been torn asunder when Ruminian burst free of it, but on her flesh he could see the remnants of the holy fire of divine beasts. The only one even remotely capable of challenging her was Aurelia. He didn’t know if she could defeat Ruminian, but… perhaps she could.

  “First, he disbands my Inquisition… and now this,” Belcourt said with a tired smile. “This man, this damn… man… why is he so persistent? I was under the impression that we had a tacit agreement after our last encounter,” Belcourt reflected with a shake of his head. He ran his tongue along his teeth, saying ‘mm’ thrice as he shook his head. “Perhaps facing death has made him think he has nothing left to lose. Though… death can make any man desperate, even him.”

  “What must I do, master?”

  Belcourt paused, then turned. He kneeled before the man. “If I were to tell you that you master is thinking very hard after you ask that question, how would you feel?”

  The man sputtered. “Ah-uh, er…”

  “It’s not a trick question. Just answer honestly,” Belcourt urged.

  “I would be… quite worried.”

  “See? You get it,” Belcourt said, patting his shoulder. “You see, I went to my master, hat in my hand… and He said he needed to think very hard. He said He needed to consult various others. He was at a loss for words. I’ve never seen that. Even when something comes up, He’s very decisive. So when I see Him at a loss… you can only imagine how I feel.”

  The messenger seemed a touch disarmed by that display of humanity.

  “As fellow sufferers, let’s grab a drink,” Belcourt urged, then wrapped an arm around the man’s neck and jostled him in a friendly manner. “Who knows? Perhaps he might arbitrarily smash my head into pulp, same as you feared I would you. I mean… why would I squeeze your head until it popped like a melon? What reason would I have to do that?”

  The messenger laughed nervously, acutely aware of the arm locked around his neck as the two of them walked off to grab a drink.

  ***

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  “So, provided Belcourt buys it… what about Cyril? You think he’s not going to expose the mirage?” Lucian pressed. “I don’t think he would, either, but I want to play devil’s advocate.”

  “He’d never eschew influence, and potentially deeper ties with Heavenwatch Monastery, just because it’s built on a lie,” Aurelia posited. “He’ll be using us just as much as we’re using him. It’ll provide him footing in the diplomatic game in the Concord to use our prestigious name.”

  “Okay… that’s the more problematic concern down, then,” Miriam said. “What about Rowan and the student ambassadors?”

  “Rowan’s a shrewd guy,” Lucian insisted. “He’s been putting up with my weird shenanigans because I saved his life, and a couple of other reasons besides. All the same, he’s going to be less than charitable when it involves lives lost. People in the labor union died, almost definitely. He’ll want answers.”

  Aurelia crossed her arms. “Again, I have to propose my earlier idea. It’s the natural tendency of guilty people to think that other people will be suspicious of them. It’s the very guilt that generally evokes the suspicion. If you don’t act guilty at all, you won’t arouse suspicion. We could toss Miriam’s leg into a river, say you got ambushed by demons and got lost in the wilderness for a while… you wouldn’t have to expose anything.”

  Lucian bobbled his head uncertainly. “I don’t know. Rowan’s sharp. I’ve been stringing him along for quite a while.”

  “I think that she’s just worried her true nature might be exposed to more people,” Miriam said, staring at Aurelia. “She doesn’t want more people like me around. People privy to how awful she is.”

  “I was never awful. I just had bad influences,” Aurelia insisted.

  Lucian had a cutting comment in mind, but held his tongue. “How can I make him trust me?”

  “How am I supposed to tell you when you won’t give me a single hint about how you know all of this?” Aurelia pressed.

  Lucian furrowed his brows. She had a point. But he also had a point in keeping all of that information from her.

  “Well… just be vulnerable,” Aurelia said. “It works for me.”

  “Like you tried earlier in that cave?” Lucian interrupted.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said bold-facedly. “Anyway, he’s into women, right? She’s pretty. Perhaps Miriam could lose her leg and he could find her—”

  “No. What is it with you and putting her into situations where she loses her leg?” Lucian shut it down. “But expand on that. What do you mean, vulnerable?”

  “Show weakness,” Aurelia said. “Start off by telling him about the wound to your soul, about the Formless Essence.”

  “He can’t see my soul,” Lucian reminded her.

  “I’m sure you could work something out to let him know.” She sighed, then rested her head on her hand. “Either way, it probably won’t happen. You don’t like to be seen as weak, vulnerable.”

  “That’s not…” Lucian bit his tongue a few times. “Alright, fine, maybe. Miriam has the real problems there.”

  Miriam glanced at him with a frown. “Why are you dragging me into this?”

  “I’m not, I’m just…” Lucian sighed. “I’ll ask again. How do I get him to trust me?”

  “You’re acting like this is a complex problem,” Aurelia said. “The answer’s obvious, isn’t it? You earn trust by doing what?”

  ***

  Lucian managed to get in contact with Rowan in Verne. Right now, he and Miriam sat in an isolated garden.

  “Basically, I’ve known all along,” Lucian admitted, heeding Aurelia’s advice to just be honest. “I didn’t tell you because I was worried that you would tell other people, and those other people would get the demons on my case, and the demons would… sshk.” He mimed slicing his throat.

  Rowan stared at him with his blue eyes. “So… you assaulted a demon stronghold?”

  “Yeah, that’s… that’s where I got all of this,” Lucian said, gesturing to the wide variety of trinkets he’d pilfered from Vivari’s safehouse. “When I first came to Verne, with my reputation as it was, I didn’t think there was anyone I could talk to. Metterand was… well, possessed, then I enlisted the Heavenwatch Monastery for that, and now… one thing led to another, and… yeah.”

  “But how did you know?” Rowan pressed.

  “Lucian travelled back through time,” Miriam said. She looked at him. “That’s the obvious answer, right? You already did something similar with the Jeweled Eye. Other powers like that must exist. You know what did happen, but not what will happen. You don’t act like you’ve seen the future, but rather like you know all of us, like you’ve met us before. As things change, the future you know becomes less certain. That suffices to explain everything I’ve seen.”

  “It’s, uhh… not quite the answer, but I suppose it suffices to explain,” Lucian said with a nod, then looked at Rowan hesitantly. “Do you…”

  “I understand.” Rowan crossed his arms. He paced around for a bit, contemplating things. “Miriam’s right. It explains a lot. It felt like you knew me from the beginning. Knew all my quirks, all my beliefs. All those preparations you made…” He nodded. “I believe you.”

  Lucian exhaled. “I was worried you wouldn’t. I guess it was all in my head.”

  “You are rather calm,” Miriam noted. “Accepting. Not that I’m opposed, but…”

  “It’s his nature,” Lucian said. “Very open-minded, calm. And no doubt you had some suspicions about me.”

  “You’ve been sent to do the gods’ work,” Rowan said. “With times as they are, it’s no surprise to me that the impossible is happening. But you still have some very angry people on hand.” Rowan looked toward Miriam. “At you, too.”

  “Really?” Lucian raised a brow.

  “Lombard… the leader of the labor union… he died,” Rowan said. “It was either him, or one of our Student Ambassadors. I… I made the decision.”

  Lucian blinked. Typically, losing Lombard was a failstate of the mission.

  “He’s dead?” Lucian repeated. “Things… things could get very, very dicey. Lombard was universally loved.”

  “Was an ogre,” Rowan said. “Came out of nowhere. I…” He hung his head. “I couldn’t…”

  “An ogre?” Lucian said in disbelief. “There wasn’t an ogre in—” the restriction took hold, and he choked. He cleared his throat and then rephrased, “There wasn’t an ogre last time this happened.”

  Rowan lifted his head, a little melancholy. “People are angry you two were absent. I understand the need to keep this information under close wraps. If it leaks… you could die. And now that I know how valuable you are, I can’t let that happen. Even still, people want answers.”

  Lucian and Miriam shared a glance.

  “I came up with an original idea just now,” Lucian said. “How about we act vulnerable? How about…” he pointed a finger. “…you went searching for us after we were ambushed?”

  “And I lost my leg, so Lucian stayed to help me,” Miriam contributed. “Hence, the delay.”

  “Smart,” Rowan praised.

  “And I have the facts to back it up,” Lucian said. “My soul was wounded. And… a certain alchemist we know will support the claim, moving out of the woodwork to protect his apprentice and her savior. No one will question the integrity of Charlton Lowenthal. If we involve Denzel in this rescue search, who supposedly hates me, I don’t think anyone would question it.”

  “Very smart,” Rowan continued.

  Lucian felt a bit bitter. They were using Aurelia’s ideas after all.

  “Let’s get some things prepared, then,” Lucian said, standing. “Aurelia, the monastics… all of it.”