"Do you remember telling me about that man who tried to hire you at the governor of Petista’s banquet after the expedition ended?" asked Petros.

  "Yes. Lord Garamant."

  "I think we need to find out more about him. I didn’t like that story. He clearly knew something about Nubel that I don’t know, and no one should. Garamant lives in Mainor. If you’re going there anyway, maybe you should ask around. I think we should dig in that direction."

  "All right… I’ll take care of it. But Petros, you still haven’t fulfilled your part of the deal. You promised to tell me what happened to my father…"

  "And I’m ready to keep my promise. I don’t know where your father disappeared to, or who killed your mother. But what I told you about Garamant might be one of the keys to unlock that mystery. And here’s the second key. Your parents were once members of a secret society. This society calls itself the Cassians. I’m almost certain your father’s disappearance is tied to what he did in that organization."

  "I see. Then, I think, I’ll go to Mainor right now."

  "A good idea. And one more thing: find Yuffilis. He’ll tell you more."

  ***

  "Did you find Yuf?"

  "No. All I could find out was that shortly before I arrived, Maclevirr sent him on some important mission to the north of Aktida. He’s not in Mainor, and I don’t know when he’ll return… But I managed to find out a few things without him."

  "When I got to Mainor, the first place I went was my mother’s house. It came to me by inheritance, I had the key, but I hadn’t been there since she died. The place had been searched, and they took everything they could. But they missed one hidden compartment. There was a note from my father. I think he wrote it shortly before he disappeared."

  "What was in the note?"

  Rita pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket. She cleared her throat.

  "Manifesto.

  We are the Cassians.

  We are ordinary city dwellers trying to earn a living with our trade. But no matter how hard we work, all our income is taken by tax collectors. We can’t afford a good house, good clothes, or even bread on the table.

  We are the peasants who have worked the land all our lives, and the land feeds us. But most of our harvest is taken by royal foragers, or aristocrats who’ve never worked a day in their lives and claim that, because of their family name alone, they have a right to our grain.

  We are tired of working for the benefit of the king, a handful of officials, and nobles who gained their titles and lands not through merit, but through inheritance for hundreds of years. We are tired of the king’s ministers being his family friends. We want to influence what happens in the state, and we want to choose our own future. We demand the tyrant dynasty of the Winvers be removed from the throne and put on trial, along with all their relatives and cronies in power, for what they have done to our country. We want to establish a republic in Aktida, like the one that existed in Laugdeil two thousand years ago in the time of the ancient Nocturns. If you agree with us—join the resistance!"

  And the signature: a capital letter C.

  "I’ve heard something like that before…" Kairu said thoughtfully.

  "Probably from Petros," Rita smirked. "He loved to ramble on about this stuff. So, I started digging. Carefully, because a manifesto like this can get you thrown in Maclevirr’s dungeons real quick these days. For a long time I couldn’t find a single mention of the Cassians. Then the siege began, you were brought into the hospital, and I met Viggo, Remiz, and Woody. And along with them, that soldier Dalid came to visit you…"

  "Yeah, we signed up with him in the Twelfth Volunteer Regiment."

  "What do you know about him?"

  "Uh…" Kairu hesitated. "I think he was a student at the Mainor Institute before the war. His whole group signed up together…"

  "That’s right. He was sitting nearby when I told Viggo and Remiz about the manifesto. And suddenly he smiled and said…"

  ***

  "If you’re looking for the Cassians, you’ve found them," said Dalid Eyring.

  In the silence that followed, all four stared at him.

  "I apologize for eavesdropping, though you weren’t exactly being discreet—and you should’ve been. Maclevirr has become especially vicious toward our group in recent years. But I can tell you’re not connected to Maclevirr. You look like people who might actually help us."

  "My parents were Cassians," Rita said. "My mother was killed in Mainor six years ago. Her name was Amalia. Do you know anything about that?"

  "Six years ago, I was still in school and didn’t know anything about the order. I joined when I got into the Institute. But I know people who remember those times. It’s not safe to talk here. If you want to know more, come to the meeting. For a long time we’ve been hiding, scattered. But now Maclevirr’s bloodhounds are more focused on finding spies from Vaimar and the Islands, so our time has come."

  ***

  "So we had our first lead," Rita continued. "And the second one came from Viggo. He pointed out that if my mother’s death was registered as a robbery and murder, then the Fighters' Guild must have investigated it, and their archives should have some record of it. He went to the Guild branch and found a couple of old contacts. They gave us the name of the person who was the head of the operations department six years ago."

  ***

  "That was six years ago… but I remember, I do," said the man. "I was working under Captain Bassmert at the time, he’s the head of the guard now. So, when these kinds of robberies happen, usually nothing and no one is found. You know, some gang sneaks in at night, through a window, or attic, or wherever, cleans the place out, and vanishes. No traces, no witnesses. We’d usually go after fence dealers and try to trace them that way, but that only works with big gangs who rob often and sell a lot.

  "But this case… it was weird. First of all, the house was poor, small, in a bad part of town—what were they even looking for there? Second, it wasn’t clear what was actually stolen. I mean, it looked like they were after money and jewelry, but everyone who knew that lady agreed she likely didn’t have anything like that. And nothing unusual showed up on the black market. Third, she was killed, and thieves usually avoid bloodshed. Most of them don’t even carry weapons.

  "So, we scratched our heads and figured it was one of those cases that’ll never be solved. So we shelved it. Then Bassmert comes in and says he has info that it was a new gang, and they were celebrating the heist at Old Brago’s tavern, and maybe those are our guys."

  "How did he find that out?"

  "What am I, supposed to ask? Not my job. I gathered my men, we went to the tavern, and arrested everyone. It was evening, so we locked them all up, planning to question them in the morning. But when we showed up the next day, they were gone. Transferred to the Secret Chancellery’s prison by Maclevirr’s orders. That was it. I never saw them again. I was given an interrogation protocol—looks like Bassmert did it all himself that night. Supposedly, they confessed: yes, they broke into the house, yes, they killed the woman because she tried to resist, yes, they took the money and jewelry. Sold the jewelry on the black market."

  "Did you find the buyer?"

  "That’s the thing," Horris said with a cryptic smile. "We found nothing. No one admitted to buying anything from those guys. No fence’s name in the report. On paper, the case was closed and the criminals punished, but it all smelled funny. So, tell me—since that was your mother. What could she have had in her house that made a whole gang break in?"

  "That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out," Rita sighed. "But I don’t know anything. I always thought she had nothing worth stealing…"

  She fell deep into thought, staring off into the distance. Horris sipped his wine in silence for a while. Then he said:

  "I had a thought back then… but I pushed it away, because on duty, you’re not supposed to think that way. But I’m not in the Guild anymore. I can say what I think now."

  "What thought, Horris?"

  "That those guys were seriously set up. And someone just needed that lady dead. The robbery—just a cover. And that someone… was probably Maclevirr. Or one of his good friends."

  Rita raised her eyes.

  "Horris… what do you know about a man named Lord Garamant?" she asked.

  ***

  "That was very important information," said Rita. "But I felt like some details were still missing. And that’s when Woody Miles came to me."

  ***

  "It was six years ago. Before I went to Surrell, I’d spent a long time working in Mainor," said Woody. "And I liked everything about it—until I got caught. It was a petty theft, nothing serious, I was looking at six months to a year. But of course, I didn’t plan to serve the whole sentence. I had the means to escape."

  "They put me in a common cell in Mainor’s central prison. A regular place, nothing special. A common cell means there are several bunks, and they pack in people while there’s room. So, for a few days I was just waiting for trial, scoping things out, thinking how best to pull off my escape. Then one evening, the cell door opened and they shoved in another guy. I knew him a bit—well, in the thief community, everyone knows everyone a little. He was also a housebreaker, like me. I told him my story, and he told me his."

  "Now, this guy had been on a very unusual job. Normally, how do you pick a job? Someone has intel—where the gold is kept, how to get in safely. If he can do it himself, he won’t share. But if he’s just the info guy or doesn’t want to get his hands dirty, he hires professionals and they split the take. In my cellmate’s case, it was a bit different. When he and his team were hired, they were given the following terms: they could take everything in the house, except for one chest. That chest had to be handed over to the client’s courier, in exchange for a payment in gold. Oh, and everyone in the house had to be killed. And the pay for that… wow. With that kind of money, each man on the team could retire immediately. The amount offered was the equivalent of ten regular heists, at best. A third was paid in advance. The target house was in a poor district, no one around, and at first glance completely unguarded. In short, the offer was very tempting."

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "On the assigned night, the crew entered the house. A woman was there alone, and they killed her in her sleep, then staged the body to make it look like she tried to fight back. Besides the chest, the house had virtually nothing of value. The whole job took half an hour tops. By morning they met with the courier, handed over the chest, got their gold, and went home to rest. That evening, they gathered to celebrate. And that’s when they were all arrested."

  "He couldn’t figure out how they got caught. The only possible explanation: the client himself turned them in to get his money back. Who was the client? No one knew. But clearly someone very rich, and with connections to the Fighters' Guild."

  ***

  "After that, I started thinking," Rita continued. "A wealthy client… And that Garamant, the one Yuf and I met in Petista, was a wealthy businessman. And Petros told me that Garamant might be involved in my parents’ death. So I went digging for information about him.

  Uncovering the surface layer wasn’t hard: Garamant appears in the newspapers all the time, attends major events, and is well known in the city. He’s known to be good friends with Archmage Romenford and also with Sigfried Maclevirr, head of the Secret Chancellery. I quickly found out that he appeared about thirty years ago, practically out of nowhere, possibly from the mafia—and somehow built a very successful business in iron mining. He began selling ore all over Aktida, and also to Vaimar and the Islands, making a fortune in the process.

  No one knew where he was born, where he studied, or what family he came from… And then it hit me. At the banquet, he let slip that he invests in science. So I went to the Institute of Mainor’s archives and looked through the grant reports. And guess what I found? Two years ago, when Nubel applied for a grant from the Academy of Sciences to fund the expedition, the money came from a fund that was primarily financed by Garamant’s company."

  "Garamant funded the search for the Lake of Aktida?" Kairu said in amazement.

  "Looks like it. I think he knew from the start what Nubel was really after. It seems Nubel applied specifically and directly to a grant from that fund, and since it was a very large sum of money, I believe Garamant was definitely involved in the decision-making. The wording in the application was vague: Nubel never mentioned the diamond, he simply claimed he was searching for the Shrine of Dar."

  "But how does all this tie into your parents?"

  "I don’t know, Kairu," Rita spread her hands helplessly. "All I know is what Petros told us. My father took part in that expedition with Nubel and Saelin—also thirty years ago. Garamant was around at the same time. Now Nubel has found the Lake of Aktida—probably with Garamant’s help. Garamant tried to hire Yuf and me—I think his real goal was to use us to spy on Nubel and Petros. I don’t know what was stolen from my mother’s house—what that ‘chest’ really was—but Petros hinted it was something connected to that expedition."

  "So what did you do next?" Kairu asked, though he could already guess.

  Rita smirked.

  "I went to Garamant’s house," she said.

  ***

  The mansion stood in the very heart of the elite district, where mostly hereditary aristocrats, high-ranking royal officials, and the wealthiest merchants lived. It was surrounded by a perimeter fence and gardens on three sides; on the fourth, the front facade with its grand entrance looked out over a small lawn and fountain. Rita hesitantly pulled the bell cord, peering at the house through the iron bars of the tall wrought-iron fence, which was topped with spear-like spikes.

  For a while, everything was silent. Then the gates opened by themselves, and she slowly walked down the stone-paved path toward the porch. By the time she reached it, the front doors were already open, and a Nocturn butler was waiting on the threshold.

  "Please, miss," he said with a smile, stepping aside to let her in. "We’ve been expecting you."

  Inside, the mansion was dimly lit. Rita walked carefully, looking around nervously, studying every element of the vast entrance hall, where marble columns with golden pilasters lined the walls, along with statues of armored knights and paintings whose scenes were hard to make out in the gloom. Rita tried to memorize everything. Sometimes she thought she saw a small door hidden behind a column; she would mentally mark it, trying to build a map of the mansion in her head.

  The hallway ended in a wide staircase leading to the second floor. Following the butler, Rita climbed the stairs; the doors opened once again before her, and she found herself in a spacious and bright sitting room. Garamant sat in an armchair by the fireplace, wearing a crimson robe and holding a glass of wine in his hand; when they entered, he immediately rose to meet her.

  "Miss Rita! Welcome!"

  "Lord Garamant," Rita replied cautiously, returning his bow. Garamant gestured for her to sit, and she sank into a soft armchair opposite him.

  "Would you like anything to eat or drink? Whatever you wish is at your disposal. Wine? Tea? Biscuits?"

  "Thank you, but I’m not hungry," Rita lied; she suspected that Garamant might have many delicacies she had never tasted in her life, and living off hospital rations had been difficult, but her suspicions were much stronger than her hunger.

  "I understand!" Garamant winked. "Given how much you earned with Nubel, I doubt you’re struggling with food. So, my dear Rita, I must say, I didn’t expect we’d be seeing each other again so soon. You understand, with this war on, most people aren’t thinking about science. But I was very pleased to receive your message. Who would’ve thought we’d both end up in Mainor at the same time during such troubled times!"

  "Lord Garamant, may I ask, why didn’t you leave with the refugees?" Rita asked carefully. "Aren’t you afraid Mainor might fall?"

  "Not at all," said the lord breezily. "I trust our army completely, and I’ve donated large sums to strengthen the city’s defenses. And I have business here."

  "Business?"

  "Yes, you could call it that."

  "This war has been a great surprise for all of us," Rita said after a pause. "Many plans have been disrupted..."

  "That’s true," Garamant nodded readily. "Poor Nubel! When I heard the news, I was stunned. Imagine, just a year ago we were in Petista, and the future seemed so bright, and now everything is shrouded in darkness. Who could’ve known! Who could’ve guessed that Saelin would turn out to be such a villain!"

  "Did you know him? Before the expedition?"

  "Saelin? Oh yes, of course I knew him. He was a major figure at the Academy of Sciences. I always followed his discoveries with great interest. Lately, though, he had become quite reclusive. I even wickedly thought he might have died in those swamps of the Eastern Province..." Garamant chuckled.

  "Why do you think he did it?"

  Garamant stopped laughing, squinted, and looked at her closely.

  "Good question, young lady," he said. "Not sure I can answer it. But I’ll say this: I have a feeling someone is very interested in seeing Aktida enter an age of turmoil. Sometimes, turmoil must come so the world can be cleansed, and the time of eternal light can begin."

  "Who is that someone?"

  "The one who knows both the future and the past," Garamant answered quietly. "But I fear the future has a way of changing. So that someone might be terribly mistaken. It might turn out that this war will lead to results entirely opposite of what was expected."

  Rita was silent, digesting what she had heard.

  "I’ve always known you’re a very smart young lady," Garamant said, smiling. "Questions like these are usually asked by the rulers of the world, and they’re hard to answer. I’ve tried to be as open with you as I can, considering I barely know you. Be open with me too. Why did you contact me? Why are you here?"

  "I’m looking for a job," said Rita.

  Garamant squinted again.

  "But what can you do? I was hoping to hire you as an archaeologist, given your knowledge of the mountains. Now we’re trapped here, the mountains are far away, and archaeology is no longer of interest to me..."

  "I can do a lot, Lord Garamant. I can move around the city and carry out your errands—so discreetly that no one will ever guess you hired me. I can watch people you want watched. I can obtain information you need, and do it without being seen. I can enter places I’m not supposed to, and take what belongs to others. And I can kill."

  Garamant burst out laughing. Rita was trembling; her heart was pounding madly. She had gone all in, and she knew he knew it.

  "Thank you for your honesty," he said after his laughter subsided. "That really is an interesting offer. Is this the kind of work you did for Nubel?"

  "Yes. And not just for him."

  Garamant leaned forward and said—quietly, with emphasis:

  "When I hire people for this sort of job, I always ask one crucial question. How can I be sure that the person trying to work for me isn’t currently carrying out someone else’s assignment? What if, in fact, my home is the very place someone else wants broken into, and that someone is paying you to take what belongs to me?"

  "Whose orders could I be following?" Rita asked. "Nubel is dead."

  "How should I know? I have many partners, but also many enemies. How can I be sure of your loyalty?"

  "Give me a simple task."

  "Excellent. Here’s the simplest thing you can do for me. Where is Yuffilis Lainter right now?"

  Rita held his gaze.

  "I don’t know," she said. "He was supposed to be in Mainor. But I couldn’t find him."

  "Where is he working, and for whom?"

  "I don’t know..."

  "That’s a lie," Garamant said calmly. Rita remained silent, staring into his deep black eyes. "You see, I know much more about you than you do about me. You think I lack sources? I’ll give you one last chance. Where is Professor Petros right now?"

  Rita said nothing.

  "You know I’ll see through a lie, and you can’t tell the truth," Garamant observed. "So you remain silent. That’s very sad. Because if I were to hire you, it would be precisely because you know the answers to all these questions. Why cling to the past? Do you consider Petros your friend? Petros is a selfish, ambitious bastard for whom you and Lainter are just pawns. He’ll get rid of you as soon as you’ve served your purpose. Best case, he’ll abandon you. Worst case—he’ll kill you, because you know too much."

  "What do you know about Petros?" asked Rita. She felt her voice weakening from fear.

  "Too much," Garamant grumbled. His smile had vanished entirely. "Petros thinks too highly of himself. He believes all the branches of history are in his hands, and that he's the gray cardinal pulling the strings of his puppets... But he will stumble, and history will devour him. Lainter may already be too far down the path that leads into the swamp."

  "But you, Rita, you can still make the right choice and save yourself. If you weren’t lying, and you truly want the kind of job you said here—then I’m willing to give it to you, but on one condition: you sever your ties with Petros. You may keep in touch with him, but you’ll pass along to me all information about his plans and movements. The same goes for Lainter. Maybe you intended to be a double agent, spying on me for Petros. I’m willing to play that game, but with reversed terms: you will report everything you know about Petros to me and tell him nothing of what you learn about me. Trust me on two things: first, I’ll pay you far better. And second, you don’t want to live in a world where Petros wins."

  "Lord Garamant, did you know my parents?" asked Rita.

  "Yes. I knew them."

  "Lord Garamant, did you order the murder of my mother?"

  She could hardly breathe from her own boldness. Garamant looked at her for a long time with an unreadable expression. There wasn’t the slightest emotion on his face.

  "Your mother died because she trusted Petros and his foolish ideas," he said coldly at last. "Don’t make the same mistake. Don’t trust the Cassians."

  Rita stood up.

  "I’ll think about your offer, my lord," she said. "And I will give you my answer. But later."

  "Think it over, think it over." Garamant stood as well, his carefree smile returning to his face. "But don’t you dare do anything foolish. I could easily keep you here, in this mansion, and you’d never see the light of day again, and you’d tell me absolutely everything you know. But the irony is, you could actually do the job you’re offering—and in the end, do far more good, both for me and for the world. But remember, Rita—if I find out that you’re plotting anything against me, it won’t be hard for me to find you and... ahem... neutralize you."

  Rita nodded with difficulty.

  "Glett!" Garamant called. The doors silently opened again, and the butler appeared in the doorway. "Be so kind as to escort the young lady to the exit."

  When the wrought-iron gates of Garamant’s estate closed behind her, Rita took a few more steps and then collapsed onto the sidewalk. Her legs could no longer support her.

  ***

  "He slipped up," said Rita. "He knows Petros, he knew my parents... Now I’m absolutely sure my mother died because of his actions. And whatever was stolen from her house is now in his possession."

  "And what are you planning to do now?" asked Kairu.

  "I’ve sketched a layout of the mansion. And we have Woody. He’s a lockpicker. I want to break in and steal that... chest."

  Kairu shook his head.

  "That’s a crazy idea..."

  "It is. But I can’t do otherwise. I don’t want my mother to have died for nothing." Rita looked at him thoughtfully. "Also, I think we need to attend the Cassians’ gathering. They’ll tell us more."

  "When is it happening?"

  "In two weeks."

  Kairu yawned widely. Rita noticed.

  "I’ll leave you here for now—I’ve got a lot to do. I hope you recover quickly. I’m sure Viggo and Remiz will drop by again. But it’s night already, the doctors will come soon, and I’ve overloaded you with information as it is. Better get some sleep, or I’ll get scolded for keeping you from resting..."

  "You’re not bothering me at all," Kairu smiled, looking at her.

  "Drink this potion... They told me to give it to you every time you wake up. And we need to change the bandages. We managed to stop the bleeding, but you still need preventive care..."

  "Cut the lecture. Let me try this so-called medicine..."