For months Virginie Dulliviere's department at the DSI had been secretly tracking down individuals with magical powers. It was a matter so classified that not even the Council of Ministers had been read in. Not her decision—it was the president's.

  Then out of nowhere, monsters rampaging through the streets of Nivia. Footage all over the media. People with magical powers fighting back. And among them, a familiar face.

  The secret was out, and her orders had changed. She imagined it was the same for her counterparts all across the world. The priority was no longer suppression of information. It was about preventing the events in Teelameer from happening in Charais Gamor.

  An analyst named Jerome poked his head into the conference room. "I've updated the profile on Tristis Montgomery with everything that's come in today, boss."

  She navigated to the directory on her laptop. "What about his parents?" she asked while waiting for the file to load. It seemed to take longer every time. The page count had grown tenfold in the past week.

  "They seem just as surprised by developments as we are," Jerome replied. "We haven't uncovered any reason to believe they're involved."

  She didn't think so either. But it was always prudent to check.

  "Have you updated the analysis on the Teelameer incident?" she asked.

  The preliminary reports had painted a troubling picture. The monsters possessed capabilities far beyond anything her team had predicted. Their analysis, based on detailed investigations of the dungeons and extrapolating through the ranking system, had put the troll pack leaders at the top of the A ranks.

  Then it came out during a media interview by none other than Tristis himself that the pack leaders were mere B-ranks. This meant that all their analysis had to be revised, and the potential threats were actually far greater than previously predicted.

  "There are too many unknowns," Jerome replied. "We need Montgomery to tell us everything he knows. Only then will our risk assessment be close to reliable."

  Her team knew it as well as she did—Tristis was the key to everything. His knowledge of these new phenomena was uncanny. At the press conferences he'd spoken openly about dungeons, monsters, and magic like it was all established science.

  There was also the question of the boy's level being beyond anything her agents could appraise. This wasn't so surprising since their readings only went up to D-rank, and he'd taken down several B-rank troll pack leaders.

  How had Tristis gotten that strong?

  Finally there was the matter of his appearance in Teelameer at just the right time. It couldn't be a coincidence.

  Fortunately the answers may not be far away.

  "Our guest should be here in an hour," she said. "Have you arranged the catering?"

  "Confirmed on schedule. But are you sure it's all right? It's enough food to feed an army."

  "We only need the lobster, wine, two steaks, and cup of truffle sauce up here. Send everything else down to the team. I think you all deserve a treat after the week you've been through."

  "You're keeping the good stuff for yourself and the hero?" Jerome said with a cheeky grin.

  "You can buy your own lobster with your overtime check."

  "At least I don't have to be jealous about the wine. Desarossan Reserve. Not even ten years old. Who'd have thought that the Hero of Teelameer would have such cheap taste?"

  "Isn't everyone fond of the flavors of their youth?" she replied.

  Even the lobster had been imported fresh from Ashba and the chef instructed to prepare it Desarossan style. She needed every advantage she could get in this meeting.

  "Who do you want assigned to observation?" he asked.

  It was standard procedure to have another agent listening in on the audio during these sorts of meetings.

  "No one," she said. "Montgomery laid out his terms quite clearly, and we're going to honor them. Me alone, no recordings, no listening."

  "He must be up to something," Jerome said. "All that travel to every corner of Concordia. There's some big conspiracy going on. He can't just be out there to make friends."

  "You don't trust the field reports?"

  "I just wish we could've gotten more eyes on him," Jerome said.

  She'd felt the same way. The investigation had been hindered by a resourcing issue. Everyone complained about budgets, but sometimes money wasn't the bottleneck. For Virginie, it was staff. A field agent took months of training to become halfway competent and many more years to master their craft. The emergence of magic users hadn't done anything to abate the existing threats of terrorism and insurgency that her department was still responsible for controlling. As a result, her field agents had been stretched thin.

  "And also on Lori Gascoigne," Jerome continued. "The young lady who lives with him. And a direct link between him and Rastane."

  "I don't think Rastane's pulling his strings," she said.

  "But Gascoigne could be. A college drop-out but not because of her grades. We interviewed her teachers. She could be smarter than all of us."

  "Did I hear you right?" she teased. "Surely there's no one smarter than you, Jerome?"

  The senior analyst dutifully ignored her comment. "They've been training and traveling together. She's probably as strong as he is. And she was there in Teelameer."

  "Yes, I read your comments in Gascoigne's profile. You made it very clear that you suspect her of being the mastermind behind the Teelameer incident. A conspiracy to elevate Montgomery. An interesting assessment."

  "The pieces fit," he insisted.

  "Not all of them. Someone as smart as Gascoigne would have the foresight to realize that the incident in Teelameer would result in thousands of deaths. And she isn't cruel or ruthless enough to sacrifice all those lives for the benefit of her boyfriend."

  "I suppose we assessed her personality differently."

  "Don't you find it unusual that a person as intelligent and conniving as you believe Gascoigne to be could end up under Rastane's thumb?" she asked.

  "She got out of it," he pointed out. "If you add it all up, she got close to two million cords out of the sucker."

  "You've got to do better than that, Jerome. There's a much simpler explanation for what happened with Rastane."

  "We could have a lot more answers by now if you'd called her in for questioning," he grumbled.

  "I did extend an invitation. She declined."

  "You could have compelled her."

  Jerome was a good analyst, but he had no mind for politics. Bringing Gascoigne in by force would have been seen as a provocation by Tristis and, by extension, his well-connected friends and family. Whatever intel they hoped to extract from the young woman simply wouldn't have been worth it.

  That was of course before Teelameer. But it wasn't like they hadn't anticipated the possibility. The tests they'd conducted in the dungeons seemed to prove that monsters couldn't pass through portals without human assistance. Even Jerome couldn't fault the methodology or conclusion.

  Would foreknowledge of Teelameer have changed her decision?

  Her answer would be considered blasphemous by every analyst in the situation room.

  "There has never been any indication that these young people intended to do our people harm," she said. "They have as much right to secrets as you and me."

  "They're walking weapons."

  "From my perspective, you are too," she said. "From your perspective, so is a trained boxer. There are armed officers patrolling this facility who could end both you and me right this minute should they develop a spontaneous tumor in the brain."

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  "They have knowledge that could be vital to national security."

  "There was a time when the Sanders had nuclear weapons and we didn't," she replied.

  Sanders was the term for the people of the Salomantic Union. It encompassed not just those residing in the land of Salomanta but any of their many territories across the globe.

  "We put a lot of effort into catching up to them, didn't we?" she continued. "It was our top national-security priority at the time. Imagine if we learned of Gamorese citizens with insider knowledge of this vital Sander technology. We would certainly ask them to join our nuclear program. Offer them generous compensation packages. But what if they refused? Would you have them detained and forced to work against their will?"

  "Absolutely I would have," Jerome replied. "And so would you if you have any sense."

  She smiled. "I suppose it's fortunate that I'm the boss and you aren't."

  Virginie liked to encourage a culture among her team where everyone can speak their mind. Their job was to uncover hidden truths, and that was hard enough without their own coworkers doing the covering.

  "What if the incident happened in Lacris-Cheree instead of Teelameer?" Jerome asked.

  "What if I got robbed instead of my neighbor?" she replied.

  Jerome sighed. "I just hope you can get us some answers tonight, boss."

  She hoped so too. But unlike the last time they met, Tristis was coming in prepared. And what did she really have on her side?

  "Whatever happens, remember that our job is to keep the country safe. Getting answers is only incidental to that."

  "You don't think he'll cooperate?" he asked.

  "He's untouchable now. You realize that, don't you?" she said. "Even if we have a valid reason, we won't be able to detain him."

  Jerome sank into quiet thought at that point.

  "Why don't you go check on the catering?" she suggested. "Close the door on your way out."

  Alone in the conference room, Virginie skimmed through the updates on Tristis's file. She was already familiar with all of it.

  Next she pulled up the proposed action plans for her meeting with Tristis. These had been prepared by every member of the team individually, so there were quite a few to go through, but each was only two pages long. She'd already made up her own mind, but it was a good exercise for the analysts. It was important to train up the people under her so that they could step up into her shoes if the worst should happen.

  She was pleased to find that most of her team had come to the same conclusions as she had regarding Tristis's goals. As for what approach to take, they were all over the place. Some overestimated the agency's position while others correctly identified that Tristis had the upper hand. They sought to regain some leverage by making use of his family. It was all very unnecessary because in her judgement, Tristis was loyal to Charais Gamor.

  Shortly before the meeting was scheduled to begin, a team of caterers arrived bearing covered trays. They expertly set up the table and laid out the dishes before following the guard back toward the freight elevator.

  Everything down to the seating arrangement had been carefully planned out. It was why she'd chosen this specific conference room—the table had just the right the shape. She'd even had the lighting adjusted to the perfect friendly color and intensity.

  The scheduled time came and passed. There was no word from security of Tristis's arrival.

  She sighed. He was playing that game.

  But only a few minutes later, security rang to tell her that he was on his way up.

  A short wait and there he was at last. Tristis Montgomery. So much had changed since they last met. Gone was the inexperienced boy she'd spun circles around all those months ago. The one who had to try too hard to hide his tells and relaxed too soon when he thought he had her figured out.

  The new Tristis moved with an easy confidence like she was the one meeting in his parlor. He calmly looked her over with a soft smile and took in the place setting before choosing his seat.

  She dismissed the guard and closed her laptop before joining him for the meal. Together they removed the cloches to reveal the steaks and lobster and began to eat.

  "This is a far better reception than I received last time," he said in good humor.

  A half smile crept onto her lips. "Last time you weren't the Hero of Teelameer."

  He appeared embarrassed by her use of the name. "There are others more deserving of that title."

  "Yet it's your face that comes up whenever someone invokes the name. Wasn't this all by your design?"

  He was quick to seize back control of the conversation. "I wasn't expecting you to be this direct. Aren't intelligence officers supposed to be furtive and coy?"

  "I thought you would appreciate me better this way," she replied. "But I can be furtive and coy if you'd like. You will, after all, be the one calling the shots."

  This was the outcome that her analysts had yet to realize. Tristis was going to be their new boss.

  Not directly of course. She'd still be reporting to the agency director, who in turn answered to the president. But a president didn't govern alone, and there was no doubt in her mind that Tristis Montgomery was going to be an important insider in Gamorese politics.

  This turnabout didn't bother her at all. It was the nature of the civil service. One day you could be serving one president, the next day his rival. The beautiful thing about a stable republic like Charais Gamor was that while the leaders were transitory, her oath wasn't to an individual but to uphold the values of the people.

  "I can't tell if I really have your confidence or if you're just flattering me, Virginie."

  "That depends whether I've taken the correct measure of your plans. Why don't we clear that up right now?"

  Tristis took a moment to chew thoughtfully on a slice of steak. He was taking his time to make it look like he was still deciding whether to trust her or not. She was confident he'd already made up his mind before coming here. But he sold the part well. So well that she began to wonder if the credulous boy she met those months ago had been part of the performance.

  "The threat is bigger than anyone realizes," he said at last. "Charais Gamor can't stand alone, nor can we let our neighbors fall. There is only one way we can get through this. South to Ashba, east to Govinia, north to the Veridian Isles. All the hunters of Concordia will be governed under one association. And they will be free to move and fight where they're needed most."

  It was precisely the plan she'd been expecting, and it was the consensus her analysts had arrived at too. But until Teelameer, it had seemed to be out of his reach.

  "Ambitious," she said. "So you need our help getting the final pieces into place?"

  He flashed her a broad grin. "All the pieces are already in place. The final touch is right here in Charais Gamor."

  It took her a moment to process this fantastical claim. "You really managed to get all nine other countries of Concordia on board? Even the Veridians and the Govinian Empire?"

  She'd been expecting there to be at least those two hold-outs. The Veridians because the islanders always held themselves aloof from the mainland, and the Govinian Empire as the dictatorship had historically resisted integration into a continent of republics and constitutional monarchies.

  Tristis seemed to enjoy her incredulity. "I would have liked to have this meeting with you sooner, but I've spent the last week securing a commitment from them."

  "What's your secret?" she asked. "We've been trying to normalize relations with them for decades."

  "I'm afraid my method won't be of much use to you," he replied.

  He reached out into the air above the lobster like he was about to perform a magic trick, and she followed his movement closely. When he pulled his hand back, he brought with it a sheet of paper. There was no trick to it. It was pure magic.

  And yet it was so mundane.

  Somehow this impressed her more than any spinning of fire could have.

  She took the sheet that he offered to her. The smooth paper was filled with mystical symbols. Nonsensical. Possibly some kind of cipher. She was about to ask if she could show it to her analysts when suddenly it disintegrated in her hands.

  She looked up in shock to find Tristis grinning from ear to ear.

  Her field agents had provided a detailed account of how it felt to use magic. None of them had done the experience justice. It was like a butterfly trying to explain wings to a caterpillar.

  "You understand the significance of this, don't you?" Tristis asked.

  How could she not? The ability to teach anyone magic. Even the Veridians wouldn't be foolish enough to turn their noses at it.

  "Did you make that?" she asked.

  "Lori did."

  Her mind spun at all the possibilities. But she pushed it all aside and focused on the most pressing matter at hand. "You did all this without us. Why would you need us now?"

  "The way the hunters association will work, each country gets to appoint a delegate. I want Charais Gamor to appoint me."

  She shook her head. "You need only ask the president and the delegation will surely be yours."

  He replied smoothly. "When there are millions of lives on the line, if something can shift the needle even one degree, isn't it worth doing? That's why I need your support. To make the delegation an absolute certainty."

  She leaned back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. "Since we've already come this far, I was hoping you'd be more honest with me."

  He gave an apologetic grin. "Getting the chairmanship is only the beginning. The real work will be in keeping it, and for that I'll be relying on your support. I want proof of the extent of your commitment."

  His request was rather unorthodox. An agency like the DSI was meant to be apolitical. They weren't in the business of making endorsements for any role outside their purview. To make an exception for him would certainly reflect a serious commitment on their part.

  And the funny thing was, she was sure they could make a case for it. This was a matter tied to the most serious emerging security concerns in Charais Gamor.

  "I can get you in a room with the director," she replied. "I have no doubt that he'll agree to put forward a glowing endorsement to the president."

  "I want your name behind me too, Virginie."

  "I'm flattered, but I don't see why I deserve your confidence. I never came close to matching you in this game."

  "Isn't it enough that I see a part for you?" he replied.

  She couldn't help but smile. It was hard to believe that a man so young would be the one to bring all of Concordia together in cooperation for the first time in history. Even an experienced statesman with twice his age and thrice the advantages might not have pulled it off. But having caught a glimpse of the wolf inside him, she was ready to believe it.

  "One last thing," she said. "Why Teelameer?"

  The question seemed to dampen his mood. "We didn't get to choose. It was a confluence of the age of the portals and density of the magic . . ."

  "So it was unavoidable?"

  He shook his head. "It wasn't supposed to go so badly. I was supposed to be stronger. And we didn't expect to get so unlucky."

  He genuinely seemed to regret the events that led to his rise to fame. She understood now why he didn't like to be called their hero.

  And it was this that settled the question for her. She'd always felt that there were limits on what was acceptable even in the halls of power. Her oath was, after all, to the people, and she couldn't serve anyone willing to sacrifice them in pursuit of a goal, however noble they believed it to be.

  It was a relief in fact to learn that Tristis had his limits, as she was beginning to fear the changes he might bring, had he no concern for the lives of others. But she sensed none of those darker qualities from the man she was sharing lobster and wine with.

  "I'll make sure you get your delegation," she promised.