“I’m going to be honest… I was surprised when you threw yourself on my blades.”

  Evantra had ended her call with Noelle, quickly changing into some of the casual clothes she had prepared. She was seated at the bar with Guinevere, and they watched as Steve attempted to teach Clark how to execute a muscle-up on a stringy piece of pull-up bar that looked like it was about to give way at any moment.

  “Evantra. Why Ghostslaying?”

  Evantra froze, her glass halfway to her lips, before it smoothly resumed in its path. Knowing Guinevere, she doubted the woman would have missed it.

  This was the second, far more precarious risk that she faced aboard the Spirit.

  Casual conversation.

  No doubt, Caliburn’s Ghostslayers were surprised at her sudden interest in the enterprise, and Evantra already knew that Clark or Elaine had tasked Guinevere with trailing her on the first day back to her home.

  “I ran when a wraith attacked. My parents got killed.”

  It was Evantra’s turn to watch as Stephanie – Guinevere’s – glass halt in its path to the woman’s own lips. Unlike the rest of her body, the skin on her face retained its beige colour, as if in an attempt to preserve the woman’s humanity or identity. It still didn’t impede her from turning her head invisible, but Evantra supposed there was a reason why the rest of her body hadn’t received the same treatment. She was too reluctant to ask.

  It was a simple truth.

  Lying to Guinevere would have been out of the realm of possibility. She had to reinforce her narrative with things she couldn’t fake, even if that meant revealing things about herself she would rather take to the grave with her. Something had to give if she was going to do this.

  “I’m sorry. That explains a lot.”

  Evantra started in surprise when the woman began to laugh. She couldn’t help but stare at the Ghostslayer as she chuckled under her breath, taking a sip of her cocktail – a pina colada.

  “Truth be told, I didn’t want you on the team. There are tons, and I mean tons, of applicants. Plenty of professionally trained soldiers join our private forces. All of them with one story or another. Reasons why they want to fight the Veil,” the woman paused, swirling her drink gently, her emerald green eyes locked onto the liquid within.

  “But not all of them have what it takes to erode that sense of self-preservation. When you threw yourself at me, I knew you had it in you.”

  Evantra felt the blush rise to her cheeks, and she nodded her thanks.

  “What about you? Why did you take the path?”

  “Orphan.”

  “Ah.”

  “Steve, on the other hand, the twisted fucker. His parents are growing old in Glascow on a little chicken farm. If you ask me, he’s the most twisted of us all – he had the option to raise chickens, and he chose to join a megacorp. Are you kidding me?”

  The woman’s voice hiked up a notch, and Evantra got the distinct impression that she was a big fan of animals if the barely concealed envy was anything to go by in her voice.

  Evantra couldn’t help but let out a snort as Guinevere rolled her eyes.

  “Miss… Guinevere. What is it like going on a raid?”

  The woman didn’t quite smile, but Evantra got the impression that stony-faced was her default expression.

  “Stephanie is fine when we’re off duty. You ever seen a playback?”

  Evantra nodded slowly.

  “Yeah… whatever you watched? No matter how badly it went? That was a good day. Because someone survived to upload that recording. That’s why days like this are so important.”

  Guinevere’s eyes fell on Steve and Clark in the distance.

  “I joined the Ghostslayer’s guild when I was just about your age. Enrolled in the academy. Got sent into a Veilsurge bordering Egypt – quite close by to where you encountered the Dancer, actually. Talk about a small world. It was supposed to be a simple, introductory assignment – a couple of us and a supervisor to clear out a small Veilsurge. Then we got stranded. Killed the Veilcreatures sustaining the portal, then got boxed in before we could retreat back through.”

  Evantra’s grip around her glass tightened as the woman slowly drew her into her tale.

  “The Archliches. They say that there must be a Mythic Veilsurge there that leads to Duat – the land of the dead. I’ve heard rumours about inverted, black pyramids hanging in the sky. A black, desolate land, devoid of life or creatures. All except for undead monstrosities, and the black sun, of course. Don’t know how much of that actually rings true though, and I've got no urge to find out.”

  Guinevere raised her glass, and Evantra clinked it softly in silent agreement.

  I would like to find out.

  “Well, we got stranded over there. Had to deal with wave after wave of endless ghouls. Something that you can’t afford to forget is that even if you kill the Veilcreatures sustaining a Veilsurge… there will always be more.”

  Guinevere, Stephanie, took a long sip of her drink, her eyes far away.

  “A single Draugr spotted us. Wiped out my classmates. We were all a bunch of organics. I was stranded, alone,” the woman recounted her tale, inflectionless. “They sent someone over from the nearest military encampment to retrieve me. I signed with Caliburn shortly afterwards and chose my speciality after the experience.”

  “Invisibility.”

  Stephanie nodded.

  “It won’t always help, depending on the threat you face. But that’s when I decided that there were times that I just wanted to disappear.”

  The woman took a big sip of her drink.

  “Whatever your designs are with Caliburn, drop them.”

  Evantra looked towards the woman in confusion, narrowly preventing her body from locking up. She felt a chill wash over her body at the words delivered as casually as her previous ones, the hair on her forearms standing.

  “Like I said, I know your type,” Stephanie continued softly. “You’re a free spirit. You aren’t like me. You aren’t one to shackle yourself to a megacorp unless you’re after something. But if you intend to bring harm to Clark or Elaine, then we will intervene. Got it?”

  Evantra nodded, silent. There was no point in reassuring her verbally. The only thing that would convince Stephanie was her actions, and even then, Evantra was certain that the woman would always be wary of her.

  It was her job to be.

  “Barring that, do whatever you want.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Guinevere nodded towards her before she finished her drink, gracing Evantra with a small smile, before returning to her dorm.

  ***

  Evantra stood in the corner of the women’s toilet, having activated the [ritual of concealment]. She stood in front of the sink furthest from the toilet entrance. Evantra had also activated [conceal] to supplement the [ritual of concealment] – just in case the woman had any means of detecting body heat or heartbeat if the ritual failed to conceal every aspect of her presence.

  Veilsouls remaining: 6

  One of the benefits of the rituals was that once she activated them, they stayed activated. It was a toggle that didn’t strain her to the same degree as her skills. Perhaps it was due to the ritual being fueled by the Veilsouls she expended, but it made the rituals one of her greatest assets.

  She watched as Guinevere entered the bathroom. Having drunk as much as she did, Ghostslayer or not, there was no way that the woman would be able to hold it all in. Guinevere let out a long sigh, pinching her temples as she shook her head.

  "Urgh. Fuck making an impression, Rod. Who cares if the rookie doesn't think I can hold down my liquor?"

  True to her assumption, she watched as Guinevere entered and headed for a stall without casting a single glance in her direction. She watched as the Ghostslayer eventually emerged from the stall, washed her hands a few feet away from her, and left the bathroom.

  Guinevere didn’t spare her a single glance the entire time.

  Evantra’s lips curled into a smile.

  ***

  “Don’t talk to me, corpo. Preacher scum.”

  “Cypha, I thought you wanted to be recruited into Nezha’s research division?”

  “That’s because they’re Nezha. Caliburn? Why the hell do you want to associate with this dodgy mining company?”

  Cypha spat into the junkyard pile beside her. Evantra was confident that at least half the junkyard had been graced with Cypha’s DNA. The girl stared at her for an answer, but Evantra just remained silent.

  “You’re upset that I had to terminate our arrangement.”

  The girl glared at her, her silence carrying a thousand words. They were mostly comprised of those that had no place being uttered under a church roof.

  “I’ve negotiated a compromise.”

  Cypha did a double-take, and her eyes narrowed as she scratched her neck. She tugged at the orange jacket tied around her waist, and Evantra watched as her throat wobbled as she swallowed.

  “Caliburn have agreed to let me continue our night hunts with you.”

  “YES!”

  The girl punched the air, her yell startling a nearby techrat who shot her a scowl as they narrowly avoided falling from their perch on the hills. Evantra could see the girl’s enterprising eyes gleam with the allure of capitalism, and frankly, she couldn’t blame her.

  There was one way to both get accustomed to her new role as a sniper providing oversight, while also having the chance to strategise with Noelle, while not under Caliburn’s watch – and that was through the night dives. There was no substitute for applied practice. It hadn’t taken much to convince Guinevere to adjust her schedule.

  “Cypha?”

  “Yes, my golden goose?”

  The girl was still cackling.

  “Why are you so interested in the night dives? Do you have plans for the money?”

  It was a point of curiosity that had dug at Evantra. Cypha – for all that she loved the process – didn’t seem to be as materialistic as her priorities made her out to be. The techrat flicked her off, giving her the middle finger.

  “Non’ya business.”

  “What if I withhold my service—”

  “I told you already, I want to get out of here,” Cypha’s eyes shifted, lingering on a faraway heap of junk. “Ma and Pa are working non-stop for peanuts. If I can save up for the equipment, my shot into Nezha is all but guaranteed, and we’ll be living it up.”

  The girl’s grin widened, but Evantra could sense an undertone of resolve in her voice that no amount of levity could conceal.

  Figures.

  She’s worried about her parents’ retirement.

  It always comes down to the simple things, doesn’t it?

  “The profits are yours.”

  “Huh?”

  Cypha stared at her with an incredulous expression. She seemed to begin searching Evantra’s face for a trace of deceit or ridicule, and her jaw fell open when she failed to find anything.

  “You must be bumped in the head, preacher. Who would give up perfectly good ectocreds. I ain’t taking your handouts. Or your sympathy. Preacher scum.”

  It was Evantra’s turn to search the techrat’s face before Evantra grinned.

  “Hey Cyph.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “You a fan of the enemies-to-lovers trope? Got any book recommendations?”

  The girl blushed crimson, her cheeks heating up. She gave Evantra the distinct impression of an organic tomato that corpo executive chefs would have salivated over. Cypha, unfortunately, was none the wiser to that fact.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout.”

  Evantra shook her head, letting out a sigh and choosing to relent before the girl went from overripe tomato to passing out on the ground from embarrassment. Then, Cypha averted her gaze, a blush reaching her cheeks anew.

  Evantra’s eyes narrowed.

  “So uh… is your ‘friend’ dropping by anytime soon? Word on the street is that you had a lover’s spat—”

  “I’ll see you tonight for the dive. Careful, Cypha. I’m still not exactly accustomed to this sniper. Wouldn’t want me to… miss,” Evantra gave the techrat one of her best smiles of serenity that would have made a certain monk beam with pride.

  She watched with satisfaction as the techrat paled in horror.

  ***

  “Are you sure we can speak like this?”

  “Guinevere is preparing for the raid in two days. Besides, I’m sitting at the very top of this very unstable, rusted hill, and I’m speaking as softly as possible. It’s about as private as it gets, assuming the connection is secure.”

  “It is.”

  Evantra had filled Noelle in on her tentative findings aboard the barge. The presence of the trove seeker artefact that she had been alerted to in Elaine’s office, Guinevere’s suspicion of her, and the details of the raid.

  All of it led to more questions than it did answers. The only thing that she had discovered was that her [ritual of concealment] was effective against Guinevere's optics.

  “Stephanie Hall. She’s placed at [elemental] rank from what I’ve found online. That’s in the level 20 – 24 range, assuming 5 level increments. She’s in the rank above Steve, who’s in [Draugr]. Lancelot – Roderick Fray is a rank higher, sitting at [Banshee], the level 25 – 29 range. However you look at it… Caliburn hasn’t sent their best Ghostslayers on this mission. I’m certain they can afford better. The whole thing is strange. But on the bright side, you found another relic! You’ll be able to gain even more broken powers.”

  “Only, that it’s inside Elaine’s office—”

  “Guarded by Guinevere. You can use your [ritual of concealment] to sneak past! I think you’ve got a solid chance here. You’ll just have to wait for a moment when their guard is down—”

  “Noelle, the system called it a ‘trove seeker’. I also think it has something to do with just why they’re organising the raid. It doesn’t make sense to try to push into the Lost Territories for no reason. I asked them about the purpose of the raid, but they told me they weren’t at liberty to answer – standard Ghostslayer protocol and information barriers.”

  Evantra bit her lip.

  “I might be able to press Clark on it if I get the chance… but I still don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. I half expect that he’s just better at playing the friendly, down-to-earth than his sister. But that’s besides the point… I’ve overlooked something.”

  “Oh?”

  Evantra let out a slow sigh.

  “Rituals. There was something I failed to mention in our previous conversation. Back then, it was still up in the air as to whether Caliburn had an artefact at all.”

  Evantra filled Noelle in on what she had learned from her perusal of Adeline’s bookstore. How rituals were comprised of blood, catalysts and souls to power them. That they were ‘curiosities’ to corpos didn’t surprise her. Evantra heard Noelle mutter under her breath as she began to put the pieces together.

  “I can think of one possibility…" Evantra continued. "That the murders around Wisptown are somehow fuelling a ritual that is enabling them to search for something… and maybe that’s the purpose of the raid out into LA. It would also explain their mining efforts."

  “Damn,” Noelle cursed under her breath. “It would explain their priorities with the mining and the raid. But we're operating on quite a few assumptions. That the purpose of the trove seeker is to seek out other artefacts, that Caliburn were responsible for the murders, and that a ritual could even be used in such a way. Still... if the trove seeker does allow you to identify other artefacts, it is crucial that you manage to get your hands on it. Sourcing artefacts is the biggest bottleneck to your progression right now.”

  Evantra sighted a mimic and pulled the trigger as a crack echoed outwards from her position. She watched in satisfaction as the creature’s head exploded as it crept towards Cypha. Cypha had agreed to lure out any mimics that she encountered in the scrap for her to pick off. When Evantra had offered to accompany her on the ground, Cypha had just spat in her vague direction. It seemed like she was growing more confident during their dives.

  “In any case, try to learn about the purposes of the raid. It might give us some insight into their agenda here. Like I said, we have to narrow down our assumptions or get some concrete information. Besides that, get as many kills as you can on the expedition - both to level up, and to acquire as many Veilsouls as possible. That will maximise your chances of consuming the artefact if you get your hands on it."

  Evantra’s lips curled into a soft smile as she kept Cypha’s location in sight with her scope.

  “You’re still going to the range, right? Is he…”

  Evantra heard subdued muttering through her earpiece in response.

  “Still mad at you? Take a wild guess. Trevor’s… good. He seems a little more stressed. I think he’s making headway with his investigation, but he's been tight-lipped. He’s been a little more unavailable of late.”

  “Alright… update me if he tells you anything. Oh, and also… how are Lucas and Carmen?”

  “They’re… the same as usual. Lucas is a lot more chipper now, after the appointment with the psychologist. We’re planning another trip when we go for the viewings.”

  “That’s… good to know. Also… can you arrange to block any cred transfers from Cypha? I want to send her the funds from our runs, now that Caliburn’s paying me a wage. I’m pretty sure she’s going to send it all right back once she finds out.”

  “Done. Aw, but Evantra… you miss Carmen and Lucas, don’t y—

  Evantra cut the connection.