It took Lowe longer than he might have hoped to realise that something was up in the building where he was being held.

In his defence, he had quite a lot on his mind.

Principally, of course, was his impending death. It was hardly the first time he had been threatened by someone whose path he had crossed - sometimes, it was even to do with cases he was investigating - but he feared Mr Law was more than his typical opponent.

However, there was nothing he could do about that right now. He scanned the room, searching for a way out. But the walls were bare, and the door was sealed shut. His heart sank a little deeper.

Nevertheless, he was now fully healed and at maximum mana, but - and this was a pretty significant worry right now - he sensed this would just prolong his death. The guys holding him didn't strike Lowe as the sort to give up and go home because the first blow didn't one-shot him.

So, rather than dwell on his imminent, bloody fate, he'd turned all of this attention to the case of Gianna d'Avec. Mr Law's employer had twice warned Lowe off investigating what had happened in the Temple. But he was confident now that it wasn't because they had anything to do with it.

As far as Lowe could tell, their main concern was that they wanted to identify who was responsible before the Security Services closed in on them.

Which was interesting.

Likewise, although there was obvious, pragmatic glee in having access to all Markian Ulton's logs, he didn't get the impression Mr Law liked him much for the murder either.

So where did that leave things?

Of course, there was whoever Mr Temple was. The person who had caused Latham to go missing the night before had to have some juice in that building, but the fact that the attempt on Lowe's life hadn't landed suggested a lack of competence Mr Law clearly possessed. There was merit in thinking whatever had happened was due to some sort of intestine warfare on the upper floors. Sertor's death likewise fed into that. But . . .

If you wipe out a Level 67 in her own fucking Temple chamber, it felt pretty unlikely you'd fumble an effort on a Classless investigator. His guy told him Mr Temple was playing their own game - which did not have the High Priestess' death at its heart.

Lowe clicked his teeth. Where did that leave him? He had two separate, powerful entities, both trying to stop an investigation into a murder they - apparently - had nothing to do with. And a third, well-connected, smug and very slappable man is also seemingly in the clear.

In the often-reported words of his dearly departed mother, "What the fuck, Jana?"

And who swiped Hel's sister's glove in between her leaving it and Lowe arriving?

He'd been pondering things for a while when the noise from above finally began to penetrate his mind. Lowe stood and moved to the door - oddly, the sound seemed to deaden when he pressed his ear to it. He stepped back and looked upwards. Yep. It was definitely coming from above.

Was he in a basement?

Then the noise went up a level - hey, let's call it what it was, screaming - and a little kernel of hope started to warm his soul. Had Latham come for him?

There was a series of loud crashes as if someone was tearing down walls, and then a rather ominous silence settled. Had the rescue attempt failed?

Then, there was a bang against the door, nearly removing it from its hinges, and Lowe scuttled backwards to get clear.

A second strike was all it took to free the door from the gap, and a familiar figure stood wreathed in dust and smoke.

*

Mr Law - whose real name was Leoto Bright - was enjoying his latest assignment.

It wasn't that he found dealing with these people as beneath him . . . no, no, it was exactly that. He had forgotten what an insular little place Soar truly was. Even those who professed to understand the 'big picture' were obsessed with such pointless, little games.

Like that chancer, Markian Ulton. The only time he had smiled in the last few days had been when he'd heard that Red Notice had been slapped on his cocky face. The amount of information Cuckoo House would now have on any number of corrupt officials and petty gangsters had really cheered him up.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

However, his employer wanted answers about the death of the High Priestess, and he had only negatives to share. Maybe he should have left Lowe out there as bait for a few more days? See who made a move on him?

Hey, ho. You live and learn. A drive to act precipitately had ever been his primary flaw. That and overconfidence. Because, of course, Leoto Bright had a lot to be confident about.

It was just that overconfidence that had him filter out the chaos above for longer than he really should have done for someone of his experience. His absolute conviction he was the shark in these waters blinded him to the sound of the rest of his shoal being eaten alive.

Only when he searched for a messenger to run to his employer did he notice far fewer minions in the house above him than there should have been. It took him no time for Threat Assessment - just one of his Legendary Skills - to identify what had happened and suggest possible counter-approaches. It caused him a moment of concern that "RUN" appeared as a 5% solution in the optimum paths to follow.

What on earth was going on up there?

Refreshing his various bonuses, Bright - more cautiously than he ever liked to truly be - began to make his way up the narrow stairway to the house proper.

*

In the sort of coincidence that suggested at least one god might be taking an interest in what was happening in the increasingly derelict building in the Peace District, Charl smashed his way through to the underground floor at the precise moment Bright made his way upstairs.

Hel lowered herself and Tenia down through the gap on a stiff breeze and quickly moved towards the entrance of a room which screamed 'torture holding cell'. Two figures with the sort of build most usually associated with stepped to bar her way.

Neither displayed their Class or Level, which cheered the up. She had thought they'd left their days of casually slaughtering those ill-equipped to combat her group behind them, and it had been a somewhat dispiriting evening thus far.

So the appearance of these two had potential.

"Charl, watch our backs. Tenia, the ugly one is yours. I'll take pretty boy."

"Twas ever thus," the muttered, hitting the shorter of their opponents with a stream of luminous green energy that did little for the poor fellow's attractiveness. Dark red boils burst out on his skin, oozing with a creamy yellow pus. Interestingly, the disfigurement appeared to make little impact, and the man ran forward to tackle Tenia to the ground with a heavy crash.

Hel barely had chance to quip, "T, don't play with your food," before her own foe started to get spicy. There was no art to taking on someone who could hide their attributes. While long enough study could prepare you for anything from a known entity, there was a particular frisson when fighting with an unknown.

Hel threw out a couple of speculative Wind Blades, twisting the air into itself to disguise her own information. To an untrained eye, it might be assumed she was some sort of common-or-garden . The man before her - and he was damn handsome, she noted - calmly tanked both of her strikes. He did, she was pleased to see, wince when presumably checking his HP after the second one hit. Yes, that's right, baby. Mama has clout, she thought, diving to the floor to avoid the man's swinging axe as he blurred towards her and attacked with preternatural Agility.

Interesting, she thought as she rolled left and right, then backwards on a puff of wind as good-looking went to absolute town on the flagstones beneath her. Each strike left some sort of acidic residue behind, further demolishing the hard surface. Hel didn't need all her years of experience to know she did not want any of that on her skin.

A glance told her Tenia had finished off the ugly guard and was now filing her nails with all the studied indifference of someone feeling damned proud of themselves. The body at her feet was revealed to be a Level 53 , which, presumably, was what her own dance partner was likely to be. That Class gained multiple bonuses when working in pairs. Bonuses which Hel was confident would have just run out when Tenia separated his mate's head from its shoulders.

Hel took a moment to remind herself about this Class, particularly its unfortunate susceptibility to sudden decompression.

With a flourish, she hardened a shell of wind around the man and sucked the air out in a quick and ultimately bloody explosion.

"I took mine out when his defensive bonuses were active," Tenia said as if speaking to herself.

"Yes. Well, well done, you."

"Didn't know what his Class was either. Had to go old school on him."

"Yep. You did some solid work there."

"You might say you owe your kill to my efforts . . . "

"Fuck sake, T. You can have the XP." With a flick, Hel directed her gains from the kill over towards the whilst simultaneously summoning a quick Cyclone Blast at the torture room's door.

It exploded inwards, and Hel quickly stepped through.

Lowe blinked owlishly back. "Hel? I was expecting someone taller."

Hel smiled and dropped a portal stone on the floor. "Well, you know how it is. Once you pick up a stray, it's hard to watch when they try and put him down."

A shout from outside the room drew both their attention. It was Charl bellowing a war cry, followed by Tenia expressing something like outraged concern.

"We need to go!" Lowe suddenly became very sombre. "Call your people back. They don't know what they're messing with."

Hel didn't need telling twice. She activated the portal stone, throwing the inspector through it and tugging on the emergency threads of air she'd long ago attached to Charl and Tenia for just this eventuality.

Tenia arrived first, throwing everything she had back down the corridor as she was sucked into the room. "Charl!" she screamed as she vanished through the portal.

Then Charl came crashing through the doorframe. Or at least, most of him. Whatever he had been fighting with had removed his forearm and taken a massive chunk out of his belly. He was unconscious - a state Hel didn't think she had ever seen him reduced to.

What the fuck was coming?!

She wasted no time bundling him through the portal, jumping in after him and leaving one of her hurricanes behind to shatter the portal stone into a thousand pieces once she was through.

Unfortunately, this would not turn out to be sufficient.