Tristis shifted in the chair while his restless eyes wandered across the blank white walls of the interrogation room for the millionth time. How many hours had already passed?

  Alfonso had been taken away in an ambulance the moment the police officers realized who he was. As for Tristis, he hadn't received the sort of hospitality befitting a hero.

  His master had warned him about this. Ashban institutions were proud, and it would be hard for them to swallow the idea that a member of the public could find a hostage that they themselves couldn't. Particularly when the public wasn't even supposed to know that the hostage was missing. It was natural for them to suspect that he had a role in the abduction.

  At last the door opened and a detective entered, accompanied by a man in a dark suit.

  "The antiterrorism unit will be taking over," the detective said indifferently.

  He was escorted outside where a black limo was waiting. It was at that moment that he realized he was no longer a prisoner. The suited man opened the passenger door for him. Inside there was a female agent seated beside a very recognizable man.

  The first agent entered behind him and closed the door.

  "Do you know who I am?" the important man asked as they pulled away from the station.

  "Minister Lombardo." Tristis offered his hand.

  Lombardo shook it. "I'm very grateful for what you've done for my son."

  The female agent whispered something in the minister's ear. When she was done, she looked over at Tristis and flashed him a smile.

  Lombardo said, "I apologize that you haven't been treated with the respect you deserve. Rest assured that you won't be bothered like that again. I've come here to thank you personally, and I will do anything in my power to show my appreciation."

  "You really do care a lot about your son," he said.

  Lombardo smiled wryly. "He may not be everything I'd hoped he could be, but he's my boy. I've had some sleepless nights, as you can imagine. And now you have my eternal gratitude for getting him back to me."

  He didn't know if it was something about the way Lombardo spoke, but his intuition was telling him that not everything about this situation was as it should be.

  It took him a few moments to realize what it was.

  Lombardo had expressed no curiosity at all in his son's rescue.

  In the hours that he'd been held at the police station, they would have gotten the full story out of Alfonso. They had enough time to send a team out to the hillside estate. And they no doubt would have found the bodies.

  All of that should have left them with more questions than answers.

  Unless they believed that they already had the answers.

  Tristis did something he should have done the moment he got into the limo.

  He had to appraise her twice because he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The agent was a hunter. There was no way Lombardo didn't know.

  The Ashbans had access to magic.

  He realized he'd been staring at Benelli. Luckily she didn't seem to mind. In fact she looked amused. She turned to Lombardo and said, "I think he's figured it out, sir."

  He also turned to Lombardo. "How—" The words caught in his throat. He tried again. "How long have you . . ."

  "Not as long as Charais Gamor, it seems," Lombardo replied cordially. "But we're sure to catch up."

  The minister seemed to think that he'd been trained by the Gamorese government. To correct him now would be awkward and only invite inconvenient questions. Questions that could lead back to his master.

  It was better to focus on the task he'd been sent here to do. And since Lombardo was already in the loop, he could ask more directly.

  "I'd like to talk to you about the future of the continent . . ." he began.

  There was a knock at the office door. Tristis looked up from his desk to see that it was his brother.

  Looking at Sam today, you would never have guessed that he'd been caught in the warehouse blaze. This was all thanks to Tristis's gift of healing. But the magic only worked to erase the physical toll of the tragedy. Sam hadn't been to a single rave since, and sometimes, when certain songs were being played in the background, he'd get all nervous and cast his eyes all about the place.

  Sam closed the door behind him and took a seat. "Did you have fun on your trip?"

  "What?" There was no way Sam could have known about his trip to Ashba.

  "You think I haven't noticed the way you disappear for days at a time? You're either gallivanting across the continent or you've been locking yourself away and bingeing yourself to the moon. That's why I followed you to the airport."

  "You what?"

  "I was worried about you, man."

  "You could have just asked," he said.

  At this point Sam looked away awkwardly. "Yeah, well, I didn't think I'd get a proper answer that way."

  "I don't get where this is coming from," he said. "Yes, I have been traveling around Concordia. But I don't see why I should be announcing it.." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Have you been wanting to tag along?"

  "What? No!" Sam looked genuinely surprised at the suggestion. "Look, forget I said anything. I just came by to see if you wanted to come check out the new art exhibition that opens tonight. My girlfriend's one of the featured artists."

  He wasn't sure what stunned him more. That Sam was into art or . . .

  "Since when do you have a girlfriend?" he asked.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  It wasn't that his brother couldn't pull. But he distinctly didn't remember any such visitors while Sam was in hospital. And he also remembered Sam's previous girlfriends. Every single one of them. Because Sam would talk about them incessantly. It was impossible for him not to know that his brother had been dating.

  "We didn't get together until after you moved out into your own place," Sam said. "And then every time I went over to hang out, you'd flown off somewhere."

  "You couldn't call or text?"

  "I wanted to share the news in person."

  He frowned. "You've hardly known each other that long. It can't be that serious."

  Sam sighed. "I know you've got powers."

  It took a moment for the words to sink in.

  "What are you talking about?" he said.

  "A miracle recovery? I was a dead man, Tris. And now look at me. Not a single scar. You think I wouldn't notice that every time I improved, it was only after you came to visit? And all those lame excuses just so you could get your hands on me? You'd never given me a massage in my life."

  "Do Mom and Dad . . ."

  "They aren't stupid, man. They know something's up. But don't worry. I haven't told them a thing."

  Sam had always underestimated how smart Mom and Dad were. If his brother figured it out, they must have too. But the fact that they hadn't come to him about it meant that they were willing to let the matter lie. And that was a relief. Because as long as they didn't ask him about it, he wouldn't have to lie to them.

  "Look, Tris, I know you must have your reasons . . ." Sam began. There was an awkward pause while he tried to find the words. "Your power doesn't only work on family, does it?"

  "You want to know if I can help the other victims?" he said.

  "Not just from the fire. The ICU is always loaded, man. Your powers are wasted here. Think of how many lives you can change."

  "I have thought about that," he said. "But I can't."

  "Are you afraid of the publicity?"

  "I'm going to have to ask you to trust me on this one, Sam."

  "Of course, man," his brother replied without hesitation. "It's your power, your choice."

  "And you must not tell anyone about this."

  "Like hell am I ever going to sell you out."

  He added softly, "It needs to be this way for a very good reason."

  "We've known each other our entire lives, man. You think I don't know what kind of person you are? You can tell me when the time is right."

  "Thanks, Sam."

  "You will tell me, right?" Sam added. "Because I'm dying to know. It must have something to do with all those flights, doesn't it? Are there more of you out there? You're planning some sort of big reveal, aren't you?"

  "Are you sure you'll be able to keep the secret?" he said.

  Sam mimed a zipping motion on his mouth. Then he said, "About the art exhibition . . ."

  As much as he wanted to go and meet his brother's new girlfriend, there were people counting on him. He'd already missed so many days of training, and even he could see how much more progress they made when everyone was together as a party. He was also keenly aware of how much pressure his master was under, and while she kept it to herself, he knew that she still blamed herself for how much their progress was lagging.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  Sam nodded as if it was the answer he'd expected all along. He stood up and made his way to the door.

  "Just one thing," Sam said before leaving. "You're going to be safe, right?"

  He smiled at his brother. "You're never going to lose me."

  After work Tristis checked his phone for the coordinates of tonight's first dungeon. His master sent these to him through a secure messaging app.

  They only exchanged text messages and never voice calls, though the app had both features, because apparently the stream of data associated with voice calls made it possible to identify which two devices were in communication, and this wasn't an issue that could be fixed by changing to another app. It wasn't really a problem because anything that needed to be said could be said when they met up at a dungeon.

  The coordinates pointed to a patch of forest outside a satellite town west of Lacris-Cheree. It was a long drive, and if he was to get there by nine, he only had time to pick up some food from the cafe downstairs before heading out to his car.

  Traffic in the inner city was always bad at this time of day as everyone's eagerness to get home and relax meant that no one could get home or relax.

  At least he didn't have to worry about making any detours to pick up his master. Lately that task had fallen on Victor. Lori would be with them, as she was still living with Kyra.

  He finally understood Lori's reluctance to move in with him or Victor. It was easier to get to the hospital where her mother was from Kyra's place by public transit. It was an easy hurdle to solve—he just had to get her a car. But in between his trips abroad, his job at Mom's office, and the nights raiding dungeons, he'd been running himself ragged.

  How could he find time to buy a car when he couldn't even cook for himself? It was something he'd promised himself when he moved out—a hot, nutritious meal every night. That quickly slipped down to once a week, and now he didn't remember the last time he had the energy to do anything other than order take-out.

  The traffic improved once he left the city and turned onto the highway. It was relaxing being able to cruise at speed.

  Something he'd been doing now that he didn't do before was appraising everyone he saw. People who came into the office, customers waiting at a restaurant, other drivers on the road. It didn't matter if he'd seen them earlier in the day, he'd appraise them again in case something had changed.

  Since his experience in Ashba, he'd been constantly on the look-out for other hunters. For the time being they were rare—he was yet to come across another one—but he didn't want to be caught unaware when they started popping up.

  It was thanks to this new habit that he realized he was being tailed. The same car and the same driver as he noticed when he pulled out of the office lot, and they happened to be driving out of the city the same way he was?

  To be sure, he took the next offramp and followed a circuitous route around in a circle before pulling over on the side of an isolated road. Out this way it was wheat and barley, and the heavy flavor of the ripening crops assailed his nose when he got out of the car.

  It wasn't long before the other vehicle appeared. He tried to wave them down. He just wanted some answers. But they sped past.

  He was expecting this and had a stone waiting in hand. With a quick flick of his wrist, followed by a loud pop, the vehicle spun out of control until it came to a stop in the middle of the road.

  He ran over and tapped on the driver's side window.

  "Looks like your rear tire's busted," he said when the window lowered.

  "What did you do?" the man demanded.

  "I can give you a ride back to town," he continued casually. "Where do you work? I'll take you back to your boss."

  The man was fidgety, his hand fingering a concealed weapon. Probably a gun. While firearms weren't much of a threat to Tristis, it was better not to get shot. Not while he was going around as himself.

  "Your boss must have told you who I am when they sent you on this job," he said. "You don't imagine they'll care about your excuses if I get hurt, will they? Not with all the heat it will bring down on them."

  He kept his hands open and in view so that the man could see that he was unarmed. The man relaxed a bit but kept his hand under his shirt.

  "What's the alternative?" he said. "We both wait here all night?"

  "I've got a spare tire," the man said.

  "Don't you think that the same thing could just happen again?" he replied.

  "I'll call roadside assistance. Or a tow truck."

  "Or you can call your boss. Tell them I just want to talk. Clear up any misunderstandings about . . . this."

  The man shook his head. "I don't work for no one."

  It could have been the Ashbans having him followed. Or it could have been related to any of the other high-profile individuals he'd connected with across the continent. Sometimes rich people were paranoid, or someone in their inner circle didn't appreciate having to compete with a new friend.

  But those people all had the resources to hire a professional, and this man didn't look like he had much experience in this sort of thing.

  His mind turned in a different direction, and he tried a hunch. "Maybe I should ask Rastane why he's having me followed."

  The crooked businessman who'd trapped Lori in an inescapable burden of debt. They'd had nothing to do with each other since their deal was done, but greed wasn't something that could be buried for long.

  "I never said I work for Rastane," the man replied.

  But his heart told a different story, and Tristis's sensitive hunter ears picked up on the quickening pace better than any lie detector.

  "Tell me what you know and I won't tell him that you did," he said.

  The man seemed to understand the situation. It didn't matter if he kept his mouth shut if Rastane believed he'd squealed. Still he hesitated. There must have been a deeper part of him that feared to cross his boss.

  "Rastane doesn't have to know that we ever spoke," Tristis said. He slapped the car roof. "This is your own ride, isn't it? Registered in your name? Maybe I noticed you following a bit too close and had some friends run your plates. Anyone on the force would know who you work for, wouldn't they?"

  This was enough to tip the balance in the man's mind. "He didn't tell me nothing. Just to keep an eye on you and who you go with."

  Tristis felt his chest tighten. Depending on how much the man had seen, the situation could get very serious.

  Controlling his voice very carefully, he said, "And what did you find?"

  "Nothin'. You weren't home for a few days. Until last night. I followed you to work in the morning and here we are now."

  "Rastane only put you on me a few days ago? Why?"

  "He never said, and I don't question orders."

  "You must have a hunch," he said.

  "Two of our guys were attacked last week," the man said.

  "What does that have to do with me?"

  "You tell me."

  He didn't understand. A man like Rastane must have many enemies. Why would he cast any suspicion his way?

  Whatever the businessman's reasons, one thing was for sure. They had to get this misunderstanding cleared up. He couldn't have people following him when he met up with his master and the others.

  "Where's your boss now?" he demanded.

  "He hasn't left the Shark Tank all week," the man replied.

  Leaving the man to change his own tire, Tristis drove back to the highway and got on the ramp heading back to Lacris-Cheree. He sent a message to his master but didn't expect a reply. The others were probably already in the dungeon by now. But he couldn't join them until he sorted Rastane out.