While they approached the building, Antaya grasped for the hidden weapon her daughter had given her. However, she soon retreated her hand again and instead grabbed for a short-sword from within her robes. Her daughter's weapon was a one-off emergency solution, and she preferred something more reliable, something she had experience with. Beside her, the ghost's left pulled out a similar utensil, but with a triangular blade. In addition, a buckler had already been fastened on his right arm beneath his clothes, standard fare for the more combative parts of Emperor Titu's hidden army.
The front door had been left open by the hasty spy, so they could step inside right away. Careful to prevent any noise, they sneaked through the ruined yard and up to the entrance. Yet before they even entered, they were interrupted by a noise from inside the building, to their left.
“He's here. Ground floor. Sounds like he knocked something over. Please be careful and stay behind me, lady,” the ghost said, and marched through the door with more confidence to apprehend his panicked opponent. However, he had just stepped onto the wooden planks inside, when Antaya heard a soft twang from around their feet.
“Careful!” she shouted, just in time for the warrior to raise up his buckler. Yet even so, it wasn't enough. A sharp spike swung down from the ceiling and lodged itself into the warrior's shield. The force alone was enough to throw him to the side like a child.
Her hand's grip tightened around her weapon as she jumped inside to support her warrior. Her vigilant eyes vigilant searched the entry hall for her foe, to no avail. Even so, she had no chance to relax. As the building's central hub, the front hall connected the entire house with three paths, one to the left, one to the right and a flight of stairs up to the second floor. All of them created enough ways to surprise and attack them. Yet even after a few seconds of wait, no one came to take advantage of their temporary weakness. For now, the spy had hidden somewhere else.
On the ground, she found the taut wire they had tripped to release the trap from its position above the door frame. The wire was connected to a contraption above the entrance, which had simply swung the weapon down onto the oblivious entrants.
What a nasty trap.
Since Master Xander was a clock maker, it was no surprise he could create something like this. Yet most clock makers would not use their talents to create contraptions like this inside their own homes. Most of them weren't mad enough. Confronted with the chance for even more danger, they would have to be more careful from now on.
After the room was secure, Antaya glanced down to make sure her warrior was unharmed. The weapon that had attacked him was still stuck in the buckler, a very crude blade, but sharpened to a glint. Maybe it had come from a scythe or a pick, but it certainly was an improvised weapon from a tool.
“How are you?” she asked in a calm voice. Though concerned, they had to remain focused.
“No worries, lady. I'm fine,” the warrior claimed, though the pearls of sweat on his face said otherwise. With his left, he propped himself up, the short sword still in his hand. When he pulled the pick out of his buckler, the blade was followed by a small fountain of blood, which stilled into a steady trickle.
“You're injured,” the lady said in shock. The trap had so much force that it had broken through the metal shield and the warrior's hardened cloth armor, straight into his arm. Luckily, the ghost was left-handed and carried his buckler on the right side. Without the protection, he may have lost his arm or even died from the sudden attack.
“The wound is less than a finger deep. I am fine,” the ghost insisted. Rather than worry about his wound, his eyes searched for any more sneak attacks or ambushes. As always, the ghosts were determined to serve and protect their masters above all else. Since he managed to get up by himself and even managed to hold up his injured arm in a defensive position, Antaya decided to forego the treatment for now. They still had work to do. For now, she needed to figure out which way to search in this alien house.
“Every house in this area is built the same,” the warrior explained. Much to Antaya's relief, he was much more knowledgeable than her about the details of the city's constructions. “there is no connection between the two halves except for this front hall. The sound earlier came from the left, so we already know where the spy is and he has no more way to run. I will lead the way.”
“Please do, but we should remain careful.” She knew that there was no way for the warrior to accept his master's lead, so she wouldn't start a pointless argument over his injury or her responsibility. Even so, she remained right behind him and was vigilant all throughout, ready to pull the injured ghost behind her at a moment's notice.
After they had finally managed to make their way past the building's entrance, Antaya got a good look at the interior for the first time. To her shock, the inside of the house was in just as bad a state as the outside. A strong smell of sulfur and dust hung in the air. Cobwebs decorated every corner, as well as all the junk, wood chips and the like that was strewn about.
The walls looked in a sorry condition as well. There was a good chance that the old craftsman had extinguished his considerable anger on them from time to time. With some portions crooked and blackened, it was a testament to Saniya's experienced builders that none of the inside damage was visible on the outside, or that none of the walls had collapsed yet.
The arcavian craftsmen had a running contract of five years with the crown, that much Antaya knew. At this point, their contract had already run close to four years, and it looked like this Master Xander intended to leave his house in an inhospitable state when he left the city.
As they sneaked forward, the ghost warrior motioned Antaya to stop, before he stepped over another tripwire into a larger room. If the cold fireplace with the grill and pot atop was any indication, this may have been a kitchen area once. However, now it had been transformed into a workshop.
While the wordless warrior stood guard to defend against sneak attacks from the two entrances, Antaya looked over all the materials on the various tables. Farthest away from the fireplace sat several short mounds of black powder in a number of containers, together with various earthen pots, pans and measuring cylinders. Now she knew where the sulfuric smell in the house came from.
“Gunpowder,” Antaya mumbled after she had picked up a tiny bit and rubbed it between her fingers. With the evidence before her, it was all but clear who had taken the powder to the flintlock manufactory five days earlier. After all, while gunpowder itself was a prohibited substance and heavily regulated in the southern kingdom, its components were not.
Both sulfur and charcoal were easy for anyone to acquire in large quantities. Only saltpeter was a bit trickier, but summer had just ended, and every summer the substance was widely used to cool down the houses of the rich and important families in Medala's cities. With the right tools and the right mixture, it would have been easy to produce vast amounts of powder for someone like Xander, who had spent much of his work over the past few years on guns.
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Yet the powder wasn't the worst she found stowed away in this barricaded ruin. On the other side of the fireplace, on another table, several pieces of paper were strewn about. Although Antaya didn't understand the language or many of the obscure scribbles or markings, she could still recognize the pictures on one or two of them. By the looks of these sketches, Xander had copied off the machines and tools he had seen in the flintlock manufactory.
While the images seemed to lack many details and only described some of the machinery's outsides, they still gave Lady Antaya a great shock. With any luck, Chukru's strict rules on exits and entries had prevented these pictures from leaking out so far, otherwise it would be a great victory for their enemies.
“Luckily we found them early. The ink on one of them is still almost wet, so this one must have been created this morning or maybe last night. They cannot be very old. By the looks of it, Xander may have been recruited by the spies only a short while ago, so chances are he only started to produce them and they had no time to sneak these out yet.”
Despite her outward optimism, she knew there was a good chance that at least some sketches had made it into the hands of their enemies. Even worse, her earlier fears of a possible carrier pigeon became even more substantive. Who knew how many of these sketches were inside the house, or how many the spy had taken with him as he fled past here. Even though they had found the source of danger, it still needed to be stamped out. The last spy still needed to be caught.
Determined to make up for the negligence of the ghosts, she turned and followed the ghost warrior's look towards the exits out of the room. In the back, there was another hallway with an open door halfway along it. Again, they marched carefully and stepped over another tripwire, before they could see inside the opening. The door itself led into a rough hole in the earth, with stairs of fresh wood that led downstairs. A nasty, rotten stench came from inside, as if an animal had made its nest there and died.
“Lady, these houses only have cellar access from the yard outside. This door was installed later, possibly by its master.”
As soon as the warrior spoke, Antaya understood his meaning. Once she did, a shock ran down her spine. Her worst fears were confirmed yet again. This should be a secret escape tunnel, dug out by Master Xander or possibly the spies to evade persecution. While the river would prevent the tunnel from escaping the city, the fugitive spy could still use it to get past their encroaching encirclement. Once he slipped through their net, he may be able to sneak away on a boat or relay some of the sketches with more support from hidden allies.
“We need to follow right away,” she said with urgency in her voice.
“Lady, there is danger. We should wait until-”
“No time! Go!” she shouted. Although it was a reckless move, she would rather risk her life than let the spy get away with Saniya's secrets.
Next to the open door was a rack with three hooks, with lanterns hanging from two of them. With his injured right, the ghost warrior picked up one of the lanterns and ignited it, before he made his way down the wooden stairs, Antaya right behind him.
As soon as they had gone past the opening, both could feel the air move in front of them. While Antaya still believed her hunch about a secret passage confirmed, the ghost jumped to the side and down off the stairs.
“Down!” she heard him shout, and instinctively dropped to the floor. Just in time, since something flew right over her head and took a few strands of hair with it. Again, a weapon had been launched at them through some hidden mechanism. This time, it had come from the front and had swung in an arc up the stairs. This one felt even more evil than the first, but Antaya had no time to consider the details of the trap.
She jumped up and rushed into the room to reinforce, following the warrior down the side of the stairs, where she landed on hardened soil. As she stood up, she finally saw the spy again, in a standoff with the ghost warrior. Illuminated by the flicker of two lanterns, the man who had looked like an innocent apprentice before now looked like a vicious beast straight from the depths of the underworld.
“Welcome, friends. You sure are slippery to escape the angry moron's traps. But your road ends here. Don't worry, I guarantee that you will make for some fine trophies.”
She didn't understand what the strange spy was saying, but she could see the glint of the knife poking out from within his right sleeve. His meaning was clear. He intended to take them on and kill them right here. Although Antaya tensed up again, her worry eased. After all, since he had decided to wait for them here, it meant that he had nowhere to run.
While the uneasy standoff continued, her eyes darted around the room to confirm her suspicions. Indeed, the earthen walls were solid on all sides. Nowhere could she find any openings, not even paneling or shelves to hide any tunnels. However, she found something else that made her blood chill. In a dark corner of the empty basement, revealed by a flicker of light, she found the source of the cellar's stench.
There lay three bodies, with leathery skin and empty eyes, half decomposed already. Thrown away like silk napkins after a hearty meal, the three former young men had been piled up to become food for vermin.
“Are these your trophies?” she asked the spy in a cold voice. Now that their target had no more path of escape, there was no need to risk a dangerous fight. The best option now was to stall for time and wait for reinforcements.
“Hah! Those are that cocky moron's handiwork. I'm not that sloppy, you'll see soon enough.”
Madness glinted in his eyes as he stared at Antaya.
“You, cheap bitch. You are quick on your feet, aren't you? I think those would make for a good trophy, actually. I always like to keep a memento whenever I am about to go home.”
“Dare talk to my lady like that again and you lose your head!” the ghost shouted, but Antaya put her free hand on his shoulder before he could rush the spy. There was no telling how many more traps would be hidden away in the darkness. Again, the smartest move was to remain still.
“No need for politeness,” she said and stepped next to the warrior to address the spy and protect her warrior's flank. “You may think that you still have a chance to take us on and escape, but I can tell you that your attempts are futile. For today's operation, we have mobilized more than one hundred police officers, as well as dozens of hidden cultivators. All of them are highly trained and armed to the teeth, and all of them are coming here. If you want preferential treatment, if you want to be treated with a warrior's honor, you should surrender now. Then we can give you a nobleman's cell and wait for your master to redeem you. Otherwise, I guarantee on the name of late Emperor Titu that you will suffer like you have never suffered before.”
“Ahahaha!” A piercing laugh came from the spy, as his eyes opened wide to reveal his madness. “You think you get to dictate to me, bitch? You think you can catch me? I'm a genius, I'm a master. No one can catch me. And I'll show you right now! Come here and let me cut your pretty face.”
“Bastard!” the ghost shouted again. This time, he took a step forward beyond the lady, but as soon as he did, a loud bang tore his right side apart.
Everything within the basement turned to light when the lantern the ghost had held exploded. Piercing screams came from the warrior who rolled on the floor, the right half of his body engulfed in flames. For a moment, the basement became brightly lit, and in the flames, the mad spy launched towards them.
Still confused but not paralyzed, Antaya raised her sword to confront the spy. However, the glint from the spy's sleeves rushed towards her before she could react. Without a chance to block the lightning attack, the spy's knife lodged itself into her torso and made her fall back. She landed heavy on the floor of hard earth, but somehow managed to keep her head up so she wouldn't be dazed by the impact.
Although she had been hit, she felt no pain from the knife in her stomach. Confused, she touched at the hilt that stuck through her clothes, before she narrowed her eyes. From underneath her robes, she retrieved a small firearm, the weapon her daughter had given her for this operation. The two barrels were encased in a thick layer of wood, and the knife was lodged right inside. As it had saved her life once already, Antaya was ready to let it save her again.
When she got back up on her feet, the spy was bent over the burning ghost, and the screams had stopped. Even so, the madman continued to stab down one of his knives, again and again.
When she was less than three meters away, the beast remembered her existence.
“Now for you, you cheap who-” Before he had fully turned, the muzzle flash once again turned the basement as bright as day. The paper cartridges inside the barrels broke and released a showed of tiny projectiles into the spy's right flank. Driven off the body by the immense force, he landed on the ground with a heavy thud and ceased to move, unconscious or dead. Up above, Antaya could already hear the shouts of the police men who had come to reinforce them. Finally, all northern spies had been caught, and her nightmare was over.