The room was brightly lit by a fireplace and magical lamps hanging along the perimeter. Rita flinched, glancing at the chair where she had sat on the day she’d dared to come to Garamant’s home. Joanna and Remiz immediately rushed to an inconspicuous door to the right of the fireplace. Joanna took out her lockpicks and began methodically working one of them in the keyhole. While she worked, Rita and Remiz strained to listen for any footsteps—but the mansion was silent. Finally, something clicked, and Joanna opened the door with a satisfied look.

  A long corridor lit by candles stretched straight ahead to another door. At the entrance stood two stone gargoyles, staring at anyone who entered. Rita thought their eyes glowed red. But the gargoyles remained still, and the intruders cautiously passed between them without incident. They slowly reached the end of the corridor, and this time, the door opened easily, leading them into another room. It was a bedroom. A massive canopy bed with closed curtains stood against one wall. Mirrors in golden frames adorned the walls, multiplying the intruders’ reflections. To the right, a half-open door led to a bathroom, while another closed door lay ahead. On the wall opposite the bed hung wooden painted masks, clearly depicting demons. In the dim light, their bulging eyes and fanged mouths looked eerie.

  "Remiz, do you recognize them?" Joanna whispered. "This is the work of the ancient Nocturns. You might have seen them in the museum in Orinde."

  Remiz nodded. Joanna confidently crossed the room and tugged the handle of the new door. It was locked. She leaned over the keyhole, examined it, and smirked.

  "What is it?"

  "The lock is protected by magic. Another alarm. I recognize the signature. I think whatever Garamant wants hidden from even his own servants and guards is behind this door."

  "Can you open it?"

  "I think so. Remiz, I’ll need your help. This lock has very serious enchantments."

  Remiz extended his hand. Joanna closed her eyes, started whispering something, gripping Remiz’s hand with her right while moving her left over the lock. Rita thought she saw a faint glow flow between Joanna’s fingers, and the air in front of the lock shimmered. Joanna was visibly tense; veins stood out on her wrists, her hair rose and hovered above her shoulders. Suddenly, a gust of icy wind swept through the room, the candle flames leapt, and a faint, distant scream echoed from the keyhole. Then came a click.

  Joanna opened her eyes and sagged, nearly collapsing. Remiz caught her.

  "It’s done," she exhaled. "Let’s hope the alarm didn’t go off… Either way, we don’t have much time."

  She shook her head and pulled the handle, opening the door.

  The room was dark. Joanna waved her hand, and torches flared on the walls, illuminating a small chamber. In the center, on a stone pedestal, stood a chest. It was tiny, wooden, lacquered, decorated with gold and precious stones. Letters on the lid spelled out in mother-of-pearl: "A. S."

  "This is it," whispered Rita. "I’m sure this is it!"

  She stepped up to the chest, heart pounding wildly, and took it from the pedestal. The moment she did, the air in the room shuddered, and another gust of wind nearly snuffed out the torches. A second later, a wild, inhuman scream echoed, and something like a giant bat swept past them toward the staircase.

  "Oh hell," Joanna muttered.

  "What was that?" Rita gasped, turning around.

  "Alarm. I think now he knows we’re here. We’ve got to go! Quickly!"

  They ran. Back through the bedroom, the long corridor… Remiz led the way, stopping abruptly and drawing his sword. Rita nearly crashed into him and barely stifled the scream rising in her throat: the stone gargoyles at the entrance were no longer still. They had turned to face the uninvited guests and advanced, spreading clawed gray paws and baring their fanged mouths.

  Rita drew her blade. She and Remiz backed away, taking up combat stances. The gargoyles advanced slowly, but their massive bodies filled the entire corridor, making it seem impossible to slip past them. Remiz was the first to lunge forward with a swift thrust—metal rang out in a sharp, painful screech against stone, but the creature seemed unfazed. The gargoyle, in turn, swung a massive claw, and Remiz barely managed to leap back before the stone talons crashed down where his head had just been.

  "A sword won’t help here. We need a hammer! Fall back! To the bedroom!" Joanna commanded from behind them. She raised her arms above her head and allowed Rita and Remiz to retreat. In the next instant, a white glow flared between her clasped palms. She staggered slightly, as if throwing her entire body into the motion, and a dazzling orb of white light slammed into one of the gargoyles’ chests, hurling it against the wall. The house shook, stone chips flew in all directions. Part of the wall blocks shattered, and part of the gargoyle’s body crumbled, emitting a guttural growl in response.

  The second gargoyle managed to take several steps down the corridor. A gap opened up between the two monsters, and suddenly Rita dashed forward as fast as she could, circled around the gargoyle closest to her, and positioned herself right between them, just like between the hammer and the anvil. A stone fist whooshed over her head; she ducked, dodged again—both former statues were so close that, with their limbs extended, they missed her head by just a few inches. For a moment, the gargoyles froze in confusion, and Rita stood still, watching, waiting for even the slightest movement from either side.

  Then both monsters stepped forward simultaneously, swinging with both hands.

  For a split second, Remiz thought Rita wouldn’t make it. It looked like she hesitated, reacted too late to the enemy’s move... And just as four stone fists were about to crush her skull, Rita performed some impossible pirouette, dodged all four, and flew out the other side of the corridor unscathed. In the same instant, the gargoyles, having lost their balance, crashed into each other. The thunderous crack of breaking stone limbs and their fall to the floor made Remiz’s ears ring. One statue lost a limb; the other had a deep dent in its chest, as if struck by a cannonball. The gargoyles got tangled in each other’s limbs and collapsed in a clumsy heap. At that moment, Remiz snapped out of his stupor and shoved his sword back into its scabbard.

  "Joanna! Help me!"

  He unraveled the rope he carried around his waist—they had all brought ropes in case they needed to escape the house through the upper-story windows. The Nocturn swiftly formed a lasso, swung it, and threw it over the heads of both gargoyles, who were still trying to disentangle their crushing embrace. The loop tightened, and Remiz and Joanna both leaned back, pulling with their full weight. The statues swayed but stayed upright. Remiz gritted his teeth and heaved again.

  "On three! One... two... three... pull!" he shouted.

  They yanked down again, and at that moment, Rita from the far side of the corridor rushed forward, leapt, ducking her head into her shoulders so as not to hit the low ceiling, and in midair, slammed both boot soles into the neck of the nearest statue. She was flung back as if she had pushed off a wall, but the impulse was enough. Remiz and Joanna both hit the floor, still holding the rope, and simultaneously the two gargoyles crashed to the ground with a deafening roar, sending up clouds of stone dust.

  Remiz and Joanna jumped over the shifting heap of rubble and ran down the corridor toward the exit, where Rita was already waiting for them.

  They burst from the corridor back into the receiving hall, swords raised once again—which turned out to be a right decision... From the opposite side of the hall, new enemies were already rushing toward them. This time, they were human. Five Nocturn guards in black leather jackets with katanas in hand. Their black, ebonite-like faces were unreadable, and they charged without a word.

  Remiz was calm. He didn’t move until the closest guard was nearly upon him. One barely perceptible movement—and their swords clashed with such force that both fighters were almost thrown apart. Remiz used the momentum to spin and strike another warrior, catching him off guard. Rita cried out as she deflected an attack from the third and shoved him into the fourth. Joanna struck the fifth with a fireball that bloomed between her palms and shot across the room like a flaming arrow. The guard fell with a weak scream, flailing on the floor, trying to put out the flames on his clothes. Joanna rushed to him and snatched the katana he had dropped.

  The living room turned into a deadly dance. Remiz fought two opponents at once, spinning and leaping between them like a top. Joanna distracted another enemy, helping Rita, though Rita seemed to be handling things just fine—her style was quick and light, like a mongoose’s strikes. She dodged the heavy blows of the massive Nocturn, slicing him again and again. Only a few seconds passed before one of Remiz’s opponents dropped his sword, pierced in the shoulder, and staggered back. Rita maneuvered her opponent so that his back was to the fireplace, then suddenly kicked him in the groin, making him double over, and shoved him straight into the flames. The guard crashed into the hearth, scattering burning logs across the rug, which caught fire seconds later. Joanna deflected several attacks from her enemy, then suddenly extended her left hand, and lightning shot from her fingers, striking the guard in the face. He screamed and fell backward. The last guard was caught between two fires. Remiz pressed him with a flurry of blows. He defended well, but then Rita attacked from the side, and against two swift blades, he didn’t stand a chance. Steel rang a few more times, and then a direct thrust from Remiz pierced the leather jacket and went straight into the guard’s gut. He gasped, froze, dropped his sword, and slowly collapsed.

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  In the sudden silence, only Rita and Remiz’s heavy breathing could be heard, along with the crackling of burning rugs—the fire now spreading to the furniture. Joanna crouched, pulled back the collar of one of the dead Nocturns, and revealed his shoulder. There was a black tattoo: a lotus flower inside a circle. Joanna smirked.

  "I knew it. I knew you’d pull something, Miss Rita."

  Rita turned around, still panting, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Garamant stood in the doorway leading to the exit. In his hands, he held a very persuasive argument. It was a massive iron automatic rifle, the same kind Rita and the other Seekers had used against the turand at Lake Darius. Garamant slowly shifted the barrel from Rita to Remiz, and then to Joanna. She slowly stood up in response.

  "Keep your hands where I can see them, sorceress," Garamant ordered. "Palms facing you. That’s it."

  "So it was you," Joanna said. "I suspected... when I saw you at the ball in Petista, remember? But I wasn’t sure. Now I know for certain—it was you all along."

  "Not all along," Garamant grinned. "There were others before me. But apparently, they failed their mission. I never found out what happened to them. I was more careful. That’s why I’m still alive, and you’re about to die. And none of your masters will know what happened to you... just like I never found out what happened to my men."

  Rita and Remiz glanced at each other in confusion, trying to understand what was going on.

  "Do you even realize what you've done?" Joanna asked calmly. "Do you understand that all of this started because of the Black Lotus? If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened. You destroyed everything we worked so hard to build, just when we were one step away from our goal. You're a traitor, Garamant."

  "Me?" The lord seemed genuinely surprised. "I'm the traitor? You're the traitors! People like you, and all the High Priests! You chose the path of slaves. You gave up when we were still strong and could continue the fight. And we—we’re trying to fix what you did. Restore justice."

  "We chose a path that would be better in the long term..."

  "Ha! Long term? How many years do we have to wait? Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? We've waited long enough, and our time has come. It's already started, Joanna. You're too late. If you wanted to fix things, you should have done it thirty years ago."

  He shifted his gaze to Remiz, still keeping Joanna in his sights.

  "And you? You're with them? You're one of us! Look—you just killed your own blood brothers! Why are you serving those white bastards who stole this land from us, who look down their noses at us and act like they're gods while we're only here to clean up after them and eat their scraps? I've seen you in action, you're an excellent fighter, and a brilliant scientist. They're not even worth your fingernail. You could accomplish so much if you joined the resistance! But you... you also chose the path of a slave. But it's not too late. I offer both of you freedom. And power. Right here, right now. If only you'll join me. And hand over what you're trying to steal. That item rightfully belongs to me."

  "You’ve chosen to see yourself as oppressed and to fight for the version of freedom you've defined for yourself," Remiz replied quietly. "I've chosen to fight for peace. And for my friends."

  "Friends?" Garamant laughed. "They’re not your friends. They'll abandon you the moment you've served your purpose. I'm here to fight for a different world. A world where you could be king of all Laughdeil! Yes, you! And they," he pointed his gun at Joanna again, "are trying to convince you that the future is predetermined! But we create the future, right here, right now!"

  There was a wild glint in his eyes. He squinted, aiming directly at Joanna’s chest, and she realized that in another second, he would pull the trigger.

  "Hey!" came Viggo's voice from behind Garamant. The lord turned slightly, and in the next second, a crystal vase shattered over his head.

  Garamant staggered, and his finger reflexively squeezed the trigger, but his hand jerked, and the burst of bullets went upward, shattering the window above Joanna’s head. She ducked, turning her palms toward him. A glowing orb shot from her hands, but missed. Remiz acted more wisely. He raised his hands, and a shimmering light shield spread out in front of him and Rita, protecting them from the bullets. Viggo burst into the hallway, but immediately recoiled as another burst struck the door beside him. Garamant groaned and tried with one hand to wipe the blood flowing down his face, blinding him, but with the other hand, he continued gripping the gun tightly and firing. Rita instinctively shielded her eyes with her hand—the muzzle flashes were right in front of them, the roar of gunfire tearing at her eardrums. Bullets slammed into the silver shield, slowed, and dropped to the floor a few steps from them.

  "Go!" Remiz shouted, moving toward the door with the shield in front of him. Rita and Joanna hunched behind him.

  Shielding themselves with magic, Remiz dashed toward the exit, Rita crouching close behind. The gun barrel turned in their direction and tracked them relentlessly. And only when they reached the doorway did Rita glance back and realize Joanna wasn’t with them.

  Everything happened so fast that Rita later tried many times to reconstruct those moments in her memory—and failed. She missed the moment when Joanna suddenly darted in the opposite direction, rolled, and took cover behind a shredded, burning couch. Garamant didn’t notice either, his eyes still full of blood. He continued firing at Remiz’s shield while backing toward the window. From her hiding place, Joanna raised her hand, and a small metal star with razor-sharp edges shot from her palm, flew across the few yards separating her from the lord, and pierced Garamant’s neck.

  The lord gurgled, dropped the gun, and staggered. Joanna didn’t waste time. In two swift leaps, she was at his side, drew a dagger from her boot, and plunged it into Garamant’s chest. In the sudden silence, Rita stared in shock as the Nocturn sank slowly to his knees, the stunned expression frozen on his bloodied face, mouth slightly open. Then he collapsed forward, and Joanna jumped back, letting him fall face down. Then she leaned in and touched his neck with her fingers.

  "Joanna! His guards are everywhere! A whole platoon is coming this way!" Viggo shouted from his hiding spot. "Hurry, or we’ll all die here!"

  Joanna straightened up. Her face was unreadable.

  "Agreed," she said, rushing toward them. "Let’s go!"

  And they ran. Forward, through a tangled maze of corridors. The whistling of arrows—a new group of guards came at them from around the corner. Remiz and Joanna answered with several fireballs, which were enough to slow the pursuit. A balcony above the foyer, crossbow-wielding Nocturns below—more arrows flew, thudding into the walls above the fugitives' heads—and finally, the room through which they had entered the mansion, and the escape window. Joanna locked the door. Rita unrolled her rope. Remiz looped it around a cabinet leg, and one by one they slipped out into the frosty air, scraping their palms bloody as they slid down to the ground. Joanna was the last out the window, glancing back with regret just as swords began slamming into the door from the outside.

  The courtyard was empty, and they sprinted toward the gate. While running, Remiz pulled out the keys stolen from Glett. He hurriedly jammed one into the lock and opened the gate just in time, as the mansion doors burst open and guards poured out, still shooting at them with crossbows. But they had already slipped through the gate and fled into the dark night streets, away from the burning windows of the mansion.

  They ran for a long time, Joanna leading them, masking their tracks so well that in the end only she knew where they were. At last she stopped, breathing heavily. Around them was silence. The four of them collapsed into the snow, leaning back against the wall of a small private house.

  "Good work," Joanna finally said.

  "Why... did you... kill him?" Rita panted.

  "What, did you want to spare him? He killed your mother."

  "Yes, but... we came for the chest, and we got it... And you risked yourself, when we could’ve just run."

  "He couldn’t be left alive. He had connections, he would have turned all of Mainor upside down, and we’d have been found in no time. There’s nowhere to run in this city until the siege is over."

  "That felt like a well-planned assassination," Remiz said quietly.

  Joanna gave him a strange look.

  "It was self-defense. And common sense," she said curtly.

  "For a former thief, you’re really good with combat magic. And blades. And you didn’t steal anything in there."

  "Is this an interrogation?" Joanna asked mockingly.

  "No," Rita said. "But we want to know who we’re dealing with."

  "All in due time," the Nocturn replied cryptically. "You’ll find out. But for now—just trust me: some things are better left unknown. It’s for the greater good. I have very serious reasons for helping you. Now let’s go. We did good work—now we need shelter and a good rest."

  Rita nodded.

  But glancing briefly at Viggo and Remiz, she saw they weren’t fully convinced either.