“Focus, Caretaker,” Janus grunted, his voice muffled under a dark cloth.
We were lying on the rooftop of a big, old house that occupied the entire block, covered by an old chimney occupied by a family of swifts. Across the street, Kellaren’s manor rose like a lone peak among the stacked houses of the Western District. The houses seemed to fuse together over the dark alleys, turned into an amalgamation of add-ons and renovations. The tallest buildings reached four or five floors, and some even had roof gardens with gnarled grape vines. Unlike the Northern District, the Western District flourished with tidy streets and taverns with clear new windows.
The wind brought the distant sounds of the tournament, and I wondered if the kids were already fighting. The semi finals would only host two official fights plus a handful of exhibition matches between eliminated teams and the usual show of elemental magicians, which meant we had little time until Kellaren and his guard returned to the manor. I fixed a black cloth over my mouth with a hood down to my eyes. Breaking into a house during the day instead of the middle night felt strange. Not that Sentinel skills cared about the presence or absence of light.
I spied over the roof ridge. Risha’s group meandered across the alleys like a pack of wolves ready for the hunt. They were as rowdy as I imagined them, every single soldier covered from head to foot in old rags just like Janus and me. We had a minute until Risha started banging on the gates of Kellaren’s manor. I checked on my pockets. Everything was in place.
“It’s starting.”
Down on the cobbled street, Risha and the soldiers emerged from the alleys like undead from the mist and kicked the main gate, alerting the guards. More than twenty men and women surrounded the entrance, yelling for Kellaren and banging on the metal fence. Risha had more than enough strength to take down the iron gates, but the fact he didn’t topple them spoke volumes about the control over his muscles.
A dozen guards jogged down the drive with their pikes in the front, but neither Risha’s men nor the guards dared to cross the barrier separating them.
I interlocked my forearm with Janus, and we blinked.
The rooftop I was lying on disappeared, and the ‘down’ direction suddenly changed. An instant later, we were standing at the base of the manor wall. My stomach churned, and my legs took an instant to realize I was standing and not lying prone anymore. Without warning, Janus blinked again. The world turned into a gray mesh of shapes, and we appeared in the meadow between the outer wall and the manor, a little further away from the library window than I expected. I had no time to look around, and when I opened my eyes again, I was inside a dusty library.
Janus fell to his knees with a pained expression, making the old floor planks creak loudly. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as the sound echoed against the walls. The second blink had been too short, or Corin’s layout was slightly off. We exchange a silent glance, waiting for the guards to open the door to check on the sound. My stomach wasn’t doing me any favors after the blink. I hid my presence just like Janus had taught me and counted to a hundred. No alarm rang inside the manor. No sound of footsteps rapidly climbing to the second floor. No hail from the guards.
Janus nodded, and we slowly moved through the old bookshelves towards the door. It was unlocked. Janus peered outside, using a small mirror and opened the door. As expected, the corridor of the officer’s dormitories was deserted. Any guards not with Kellaren at the tournament must have been in the Great Hall. The rest must be busy with Risha’s diversion. Even if there was a late riser, the minutes we waited in the library would be enough for them to run downstairs.
We crossed the corridor, our footsteps muffled by the rug and reached Kellaren’s chambers without bumping into anyone. I channeled my mana and projected a copy of the wall on our backs. An oblivious observer would see a regular piece of corridor. Janus knelt and took out his lockpicks. The door was locked by a sturdy metal padlock. He struggled against the lock for a minute until he gave up.
“It’s enchanted,” Janus whispered. “I need a distraction. I’m going to pop it.”
“Below us is the treasury,” I whispered back, activating my mana sense and peeking into the runes. I let [Awareness] take a picture.
“We are not going through this door with the lock intact. The spell works like a Fortifier’s barrier and prevents me from blinking inside,” Janus replied.
Treasury guards wouldn’t leave their posts even with Risha’s group causing a scene. Any suspicious sound over their heads would alert them, and I wasn’t sure I could disguise the sound of a breaking lock. Janus gave me a pressing glance, we were against time.
“I’m going to count to three,” Janus whispered, wrapping the cloak around the padlock and pulling his knife. “One—”
“Wait, no,” I muttered.
“Two,” Janus channeled his black mana.
I channeled mine.
“Three.”
The sound of a muffled catfight covered the clank of metal against metal. We stayed still, straining our ears to hear even the furthest step. My heart hammered against my chest, and I could only hear the blood rushing through my ears. After a moment, Janus nodded and we entered Kellaren’s chambers. The room was a hexagonal study, richly furnished with windows on three sides and a door that led to Kellaren’s bedroom. The curtains were open, so I used a second instance of [Minor Illusion] to project a picture of the empty room in case someone looked inside.
Janus signaled me to use less mana. Maintaining two instances of the skill using a precise amount of mana was challenging but not impossible. Curiously enough, projecting a stadium with twenty two soccer players and a ball counted like a single [Minor Illusion], but a piece of corridor and a window didn’t.
I examined the room using my mana sense and I found no traps, not magical at least. Janus’ skills told him the same because a moment later, he started digging in the desk drawers. I stood still, forcing my mind to focus on the illusions. If I used too little mana, the skill would fail, but if I used too much, the Sentinels would detect it.
“Kellaren is preparing a legal process against you over Firana’s guardianship,” Janus whispered as his eyes rapidly swept across the document.
I crossed the room, my [Light Footed] trait helping me avoid the cracking boards. The documents looked official, with the signet of the Aias Family and everything. [Awareness] helped me give them a quick read. Kellaren requested the Marquis appoint him as Firana's legal guardian in the absence of any other close family until she had the age and experience to lead the family. He appealed to the family tradition and the ties to Farcrest nobility to hold up the vows of loyalty made by Garel Aias, Firana’s father.
Despite the fact we were expecting Kellaren to use the Marquis influence to get Firana, I didn’t expect a legal process. He never struck me as the legal type, and the orphanage had equally good arguments for Firana’s guardianship. Elincia had been the one housing and feeding Firana despite Kellaren having a manor with servants in the city. Not to mention that Firana was technically an adult.
Sir Janus went through the room almost with robotic precision, scanning a bundle of documents for only a few seconds before jumping to the next. The minutes passed like seconds. By now, Risha’s forces outside undoubtedly had two options: become more hostile or fall back before Osgirian troops appeared. Either way we were running low on time. Janus crossed the vestibule and entered Kellaren’s bedroom while I stood behind in the study; the less I moved, the easier it was to maintain both illusions. Corin had told us the important documents were on the small coffer under the nightstand.
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“Your mole is the best spy I’ve ever heard of,” Janus whispered as he pulled a small coffer made of black metal from the space under the nightstand. “You should introduce me to him.”
“My mole is only loyal to the Aias Family,” I replied.
“Shame.”
I examined Kellaren’s nightstand and found no trace of mana. Luckily, the coffer had no enchanted padlock. There was no way I could maintain three perfect illusions at the same time so another auditory distraction was out of question. Janus pulled his lockpick set and tinkered with the keyhole.
“How curious, it’s already open,” he said, opening the lid.
“Wait—”
A loud explosion blasted forth from the coffer, leaving my ears ringing. My illusions wavered. Janus suppressed a howl of pain. Blood stained the rug as he held his wounded hand. Before I could identify the damage, he pulled a high-rank potion from the satchel, drank half of it, and poured the rest directly into the wound. I recognized the acrid smell of the explosive as one of the ingredients for Ginz’s ammo. None of us could detect the trap because it wasn’t magical.
Several pairs of boots climbed the staircase.
Before I could react, Janus grabbed the contents of the coffer and blinked away.
I was alone.
The metallic taste of fear covered my mouth as the sound of heavy boots and the commands of a captain filled the corridor. I had less than a second to come up with a plan. I opened the gates of my mana pool and fed [Awareness]. Time seemed to stop. The soldiers spread through the corridor as I pulled out the invisibility potion. I swallowed it in a single gulp. A part of my brain told me it tasted like marshmallows, but the sensation got lost in the sea of information I was processing. [Awareness] agreed with Sir Janus’ directive; bloodshed had to be avoided at all cost.
I let the window illusion fall and focused all my mana on the illusion of the chamber’s door. The Invisibility Potion’s mana swirled through my body, and a moment later, my limbs disappeared into thin air. A part of my brain told me it wasn’t normal for limbs to disappear, but I ignored it. I needed to be quick. I dropped the illusion of the door and threw Kellaren’s desk through the window.
The guards swarmed the room, rushing the shattered window and looked down into the backyard.
“They are still inside, you idiots! I can feel them!” A Sentinel yelled, but I had already moved past the guards and into the corridor.
Tendrils of mana crawled outside Kellaren’s chambers, probing the surfaces and searching for the invisible intruder. The staircase was blocked, so I retreated to the library. I hadn't noticed but the windows were barred. Not that I would trust [Light Footed] to survive a fall from a high second story. The tendrils of mana touched the door frame behind me.
It was time for Plan C.
I put my hand in my satchel and pulled out a rat.
“I need your help, pal. Look into my memories,” I whispered, hoping my invisibility wouldn’t prevent Loki from acting his magic.
Loki squeaked in protest, despite we had already discussed the plan.
“Come on. You already copied the Lich, didn’t you? This can’t be worse.”
Loki squeaked again, this time more angrily. His body turned into a swirl of darkness and the next moment, standing before me, there was Lord Osgiria in the formal evening suit he wore during the feast. The copy was perfect to the last detail, the texture of his clothes, the oppressive aura, and the gesture of detached displeasure. Even after a quick examination with my mana sense, I couldn’t find the difference with a real person. To notice the runes flowing through Loki’s body, I had to dive deeper using my [Mana Mastery].
“I’ll be glued to your heels,” I whispered. “If you get discovered, turn into a rat and run away.”
“Damn beast!” Loki replied with Lord Victor Osgiria’s voice.
The sound of footsteps stopped.
Loki slammed the door open and crossed the corridor flaunting his elegant black cloak. The guards froze, and the mana tendrils of the Sentinel retreated. Without skipping a beat, Loki stared down at the Sentinel until the man lowered his head. The other guards imitated him, terror in their faces. Lord Osgiria’s presence was hard to withstand.
“How picturesque. It seems to me that even our Scribes would be on a better footing than you,” Loki said, mishmashing the lines Lord Osgiria had used during the feast.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” the Sentinel mumbled without raising his head.
The corridor fell in complete silence.
“I’ve never heard of a country that encourages its citizens to neglect their Class to pursue recreational training,” Loki sighed, and the disdain in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.
“I-I’m very sorry, My Lord. We will get them,” the Sentinel stuttered as he stepped back. “Move, you filthy rats! The intruder can’t be far away!”
The guards scattered, searching behind every door but maintaining a respectful distance from Loki.
“Damn beast,” Loki massaged his temples.
The Sentinel bowed repeatedly before running downstairs with a detachment of guards. My heart hammered as cold sweat covered my invisible body. Only the cardio training of the last months separated me from cardiac arrest. The adrenaline rushing through my veins urged me to run, but my rational mind told me to stay behind Loki.
“Please don’t ask questions,” I said to myself.
Loki was smart, but for some reason, couldn’t produce sentences of its own and even the copied ones seemed to follow certain rules.
The Changeling walked downstairs at a leisurely pace and crossed the vestibule, glaring at anyone who dared come near. Loki opened the front door, crossed the terrace, and went around the fountain into the gravel path. No one dared to come nearby. Risha’s group was still bashing against the fence, despite we were well past the expected deadline. The guards poked with their spears through the metal bars, and several soldiers had superficial wounds.
“Lord Osgiria!” a man by Risha’s side yelled.
The bashing suddenly stopped, and the soldiers' expressions turned into fear and then panic. Those who a moment earlier threatened to ransack the manor unless their wages were refunded, stepped away from the gates. It only took one of Risha’s companions to turn his back on the manor and run away for the formation to dissolve.
Loki continued walking as the guards hailed Lord Osgiria.
Only Risha and a handful of loyal soldiers remained behind. Their faces were covered by pieces of cloth, but their eyes were full of fear. I cursed Risha’s loyalty. An open fight would destroy our disguise.
“Run away, you fool. Run away, you fool. Run away, you fool,” I whispered under my breath like a litany.
Despite his mortal paleness, Risha remained stalwart. Kellaren’s guards laughed as Risha’s soldiers quivered like newborn puppies under the gaze of Loki. If Risha’s loyalty got us killed, I was going to haunt him even in the afterlife.
“Damn beast!” Loki yelled, pushing the gates open and Kellaren’s guards echoed his insult.
For an instant, I thought Risha was going to pull a knife. However, in the last moment, his eyes shone with realization, and he fled into the maze of alleys.
“Should we chase, sir?” The guard asked.
Loki kept going forward despite the questions from the Kellaren’s mercenaries. As soon as I set foot on the street, my instinct won, and I ran behind Risha. I continued running through the maze of alleys until the adrenaline washed away and my legs faltered. I sat between a puddle of stinking water and a rotten wooden crate, panting.
A moment later, Loki landed, or rather bounced against the cobbled path having adopted the shape of a fat condor he had used to attack Dassyra. Loki flapped his wings to regain balance and sat by my side while glaring at me. Without even cursing me out, he turned into a mouse and fell asleep. I tried to grab him, but my hands were shaking. I took a moment to compose myself before putting the Changeling back into my pouch.
“Thanks pal,” I said, trying to ease my breath.
The distant roar of the crowd reached my ears. There was no turning back.