Gretel sat behind the desk, watching him lean back in the chair across from her. His legs were crossed, posture rexed, that easy confidence in every line of his body. Jack's face. Jack's smile. Perfect.

  The harp sang from its pce on the desk. "Northern wall breached. Guards engaging hostiles. Casualties reported at the main gate."

  She listened with half her attention. The city was under attack, but the guards were handling it. Jack was probably at his mother's. She considered calling him, but everything was still in control.

  "Fire spreading in the merchant quarter," the harp continued. "Three buildings abze. Civilians evacuating to the pza. Fire brigade on its way."

  The man met her eyes. A small smile pyed at the corner of his mouth.

  "Twenty hostiles breaching the north gate. Guards falling back to secondary positions. Four dead, seven wounded."

  Gretel's fingers drummed against the desk. The attack was serious, but nothing they couldn't handle. The guards knew what to do.

  "Warning." The harp's voice shifted, urgent. "Intruders in the tunnel. Multiple hostiles approaching through the passage beneath the house."

  The door exploded inward.

  Wood splintered. The frame cracked. A tall man in a green hood led the charge, and behind him came the rest. They moved like professionals, like people trained to kill as a unit. They spread along the perimeter in seconds. Professional. Tactical. Each one covering an angle, weapons up and trained.

  All of them wore green except one. A woman in a red cloak, hood pulled up. The only woman in the group.

  Six weapons pointed at her and Jack.

  Gretel's hand twitched toward the desk drawer. The pistol was there. But moving now would get her killed.

  She kept her hands visible. Stayed seated.

  "We're here for the harp." The man in the green hood's voice was calm, authoritative. He gestured with his bow toward the golden instrument on the desk. "Hand it over. No one gets hurt."

  Gretel stood slowly, keeping her movements deliberate.

  "I'm not doing that." She kept her voice level. "Who do you think you are?"

  "Don't worry about who we are." The man didn't lower his bow.

  The others held their positions. The woman in red. A massive man near the door. Two others fnking the sides. All armed. All watching.

  Jack stood. The movement was unhurried, graceful. He smoothed his shirt with one hand.

  "This is quite interesting. Whoever you are." His voice carried Jack's folksy charm. "But I'm in a generous mood. Leave now, and I'll pretend this didn't happen."

  The man in the green hood stared at him. "Excuse me? I'm holding the weapons here. I'm in control."

  "You can leave." Jack smiled, warm and reasonable. "I'll let this go."

  The soldiers ughed. Even the woman in red smirked, shaking her head.

  The sound was still echoing when Gretel heard it.

  *Twang.*

  An arrow appeared from nowhere, slicing through the air past the hooded man's ear. He jerked to the side, eyes wide.

  The arrow flew straight at Jack.

  Gretel's breath caught.

  Jack's hand snapped up. Faster than the real Jack could ever move.

  He caught the arrow. Plucked it from the air inches from his face.

  His fingers closed around the shaft.

  "You're not the mayor." A woman's voice. Disembodied. Somewhere in the room. "There's no way Jack could have done that."

  The men in green spun, weapons sweeping the empty air. Searching for a target they could only hear.

  Gretel stayed still. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

  Must be a Cricket.

  Jack lowered the arrow slowly, his eyes scanning the room. "Cricket."

  He said it calmly.

  The intruders froze. The man in the green hood looked around sharply, bow half-raised. "Where are you? Where..."

  They hadn't known someone else was here.

  Gretel kept her face neutral. A Cricket. Here. Invisible. Armed.

  This could go badly.

  Jack reached down beside his chair. His hand wrapped around nothing.

  He pulled upward.

  The naginata shimmered into existence as he lifted it. Long, curved bde gleaming in the light. He spun it once, testing the weight, showing the edge.

  "What the hell..." one of the mercenaries breathed.

  Jack exploded into motion.

  He sprinted toward the corner of the room. Toward nothing.

  *Thwick.*

  An arrow appeared mid-flight, aimed at his chest.

  The naginata spun. Bde fshed. The arrow deflected, cttering against the wall.

  *Thwick. Thwick. Thwick.*

  More arrows. From different angles. All targeting the attacking ninja.

  Jack ran full speed, the naginata a blur in his hands. He blocked one overhead. Spun and knocked another down. Side-swept a third.

  The speed increased. Faster. The weapon moved in defensive patterns, intercepting projectiles Gretel could barely track.

  He was closing distance. Getting nearer to wherever the Cricket stood.

  Gretel watched, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

  But Crickets were dangerous. Just as good. She'd seen what they could do.

  This could go either way.

  Jack swung horizontally. A massive strike toward empty air.

  *CRACK.*

  The sound of splitting wood echoed through the room.

  A bow appeared in mid-air. Sliced perfectly in half. Both pieces cttered to the floor, suddenly visible.

  Silence.

  Then a metallic whirring sound. A chain, maybe.

  Jack shifted his stance, naginata ready.

  Gretel could hear it, whatever it was. Could see the faint disturbance it made in the air.

  Something shed out. Jack blocked with the naginata shaft. The impact rang through the room.

  The mercenaries stood frozen, weapons half-raised, staring at Jack as he parried and struck at empty air.

  The whirring came again. Something wrapped around the naginata. Jack twisted, breaking free.

  Something moved toward him. Invisible. He dodged.

  Not fast enough.

  Something connected with his shoulder.

  Jack's face flickered.

  Just for a second. Like static on a screen. A masked face fshed beneath, then vanished.

  The invaders saw it. The woman in red's eyes went wide.

  Another strike. Something wrapped around his leg.

  His masked face flickered again. Longer this time. Dark eyes. Prominent cheekbones. Bck fabric beneath the expensive suit.

  "What..." The man in the green hood lowered his bow slightly.

  A third blow. Something raked across Jack's chest.

  The flicker sted longer. The illusion struggling to hold.

  Jack spun the naginata, forcing his invisible opponent back.

  Something struck his side again.

  The illusion shattered.

  Like gss breaking. Like a mirror dropped on stone.

  Where Jack had stood, a muscur Asian man in full bck ninja gear held the naginata in a combat stance. His face was covered except for his eyes.

  Fighting something they still couldn't see.

  "What the hell..." the woman in red whispered.

  The man in the green hood stared, bow dangling in his hands. "That's not..."

  "That's not Jack," the woman in red finished.

  Gretel stayed behind the desk. Watching.

  The Puppet moved like water. Like violence made elegant. The naginata spun and struck at something invisible, each movement precise.

  Something whirred again. The Puppet blocked, twisted, advanced.