“What if we meet somewhere else?” I offered. “Outside the Academy?”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way Ardovar will accept that. He specifically requested to meet in his office,” Jace said.

“Jonas,” Florencia said. “It’s not a good idea to ignore Ardovar’s request like this. You don’t know his reach!”

Damned it, Florencia was right.

While I didn’t trust the Lord Commander nor his attack dog, Captain Dion, Ardovar would not respond well to such a challenge to his authority. By opposing him, I would most definitely be creating a powerful enemy for myself. Philemon Petridies was different, but my heart told me not to trust him, either.

I shuddered over the memories of the circlet. How it dulled my mind to the point I was a mindless, drooling body, and the piercing pain it caused after it was lifted. I did not want to be taken prisoner again. But I also did not want to make enemies as powerful as the Lodge, or the Academy.

As I weighed my options, there was only a single reasonable thing to do—to go with Florencia and Jace deep into the quarters of the Lodge and hope that my fears were unfounded.

There I knew I could not count on anyone except for Florencia, who would shield me from the ill will of the Lord Commander. I knew that Jace had no reason to help me, so I could not count on him. As I sat there on the bed, carefully contemplating my next move, I felt the weight of Florencia’s expectant eyes on me. And while she was silent, I felt she wanted me to trust her. But she did not say it in front of Jace, who sat stiff and unmoving, with an uncomfortable look etched on his face.

If Ardovar would try to imprison me again, I would fight, no matter the outcome. Hopefully, it would not go that far. And there was also the slight possibility that I was wrong, and overthinking this.

By the end of my contemplations, I had changed my mind. The deciding factor was that I did not want to leave Florencia’s side. At least not yet. Not until I had found some stability in my mind.

I sighed and conceded.

“Very well,” I said. “I’ll come.”

But I won’t let them imprison me, I thought.

Florencia’s face softened, the tension leaving her body, and she gave me a tight hug before letting me go.

“I’m sorry, again, but the Lord Commander is already waiting,” Jace said and set the empty cup aside. “We should go.”

“Alright,” Florencia said, walking to the table and grabbing her coat. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s see what Ardovar wants from us.”

I tied the laces of my new leather boots, which I had bought just a week ago. They had very little wear during those days, and were not broken in yet. The leather was still stiff at the ankles, and the soles were hard.

As I finished lacing up, Florencia had already slipped on her own tall boots, which she had not cleaned up, the leather scuffed and scratched from long use, with patches of old dirt still clinging to them. She was donning her dark-brown wool coat over her black linen shirt with wooden buttons. Meanwhile, Jace stood next to the fireplace and was methodically spreading the still-warm coals around so the fire would die down.

Then a doubt crept into my heart. I looked outside, where there was very little light left from the day, and the shadows were growing dark and wide. Only a few dim lanterns shone on the cobblestones, and no moonlight pierced the heavy clouds. It promised to be a dark night.

“Flo, you said that it’s not a good idea to go into the city during the night,” I said.

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Florencia picked up her longsword, sheathed in the scabbard of dark leather. She fastened the belt and threw it over her shoulder, and said: “It’s dangerous for most people, even the guards, to walk around alone at night. That’s why they patrol in squads of five or more. But Jace and I can easily handle some thugs.”

She turned to Jace and asked him: “I don’t see your sword. Where did you leave it?”

“I always keep my equipment at the Lodge,” said Jace, already stepping in front of the door, seemingly impatient to leave. “Wearing my weapons in my hometown feels strange. And I don’t like their weight slowing me down.”

“You have a bastard sword, Jace,” Florencia said in a joking tone, meaning no offense.

“I’m not fast enough to carry it on my back,” he said. “I have to have it on my belt. And when it’s in the sheath, it gets in the way all the damned time.”

Florencia nodded in silence and opened the door.

While we were going down the narrow staircase, almost pitch black save for a single dim light-bead on every floor, I asked Jace, “You said that Bessou is your hometown. Were you born here?”

“I was,” he said. “Forty-one years ago. My father works for Baron Cartorre—”

“The Lord Mayor of the town,” Florencia whispered quickly.

“And my mother was the mayor’s legal advisor. That’s how they met. After I was born, my mother stayed home to raise me, and now she’s taking care of the house. I’ve been living here all my life. It has changed so much,” he mumbled.

“It has,” Florencia agreed.

We stepped outside, and the icy wind hit my face as soon as we turned to the main street. It was an oppressive darkness that was laid upon the streets and in the air. I could sense it the moment we were on the main street heading toward the lake.

Up in the sky, the Sun had by then already set. Far to the left, toward more of the warehouse district, which was connected to the artisan quarter, burned a single dim streetlight. Was it an oil lantern, or a light-bead, I could not tell from this distance.

I saw nobody. The streets were empty, and none passed us as we made our way toward the lake. We had to take the long way to the Academy, by the harbor, not through the city streets. I walked alongside Florencia, the eerie emptiness making my stomach uneasy. We had to take the long way to the Academy, avoiding the city streets and instead skirting around through the harbor. As we turned right, I heard the distant sound of a bottle breaking, followed by the echo of footsteps.

Many of them.

I tensed up.

“I hear something!” I whispered. “We are being followed.”

“We are,” Florencia said, but kept moving. “Sometimes that happens when you go out during the night. Most of the time, the goons are too scared and won’t really bother us. Especially if I wave the Lodge’s medallion in their face.”

Jace nodded in approval, and we walked on. We made our way along the docks, where there were no ships docked for the night, and even the cry of the seagulls was missing. The footsteps drew closer, and I felt a coldness in my heart.

“But sometimes they're not scared,” Jace continued and kept walking as carefree as Florencia.

“Most thugs understand that if someone is walking slowly during the night, and alone, they have a good reason to,” Jace said, his shoulders relaxed and slouched. “You never run or try to walk quietly. That’ll draw their attention. It’s almost like they have an extra sense for these things.”

“And you’re not scared?” I said, cursing at myself for sounding afraid.

But the steps drew ever closer now. There were many.

“It’s fine,” Florencia said, waving her hand.

But I sensed a coldness approaching from behind us. Jace and Florencia were walking slowly enough that I could extend my mind outward, and keep walking. I focused my attention on where the footsteps came from. There I felt, drawing closer, a cold and purposeful emptiness, but with that void, I could not sense thoughts.

There was only a famine and a predator that approached.

“They’re not scared,” I said. “I can sense them. They’re coming closer.”

“You can?” Jace asked, surprised.

“It’s fine,” Florencia said again, but this time she stopped and turned to Jace. “This is why you should carry a sword, Jace. Just in case.”

“Maybe you’re right, Warden,” he said, but there was no fear in his voice. “But walking without it reminds me of my childhood, back when I didn’t have to wear weapons to feel safe…”

Florencia said nothing but nodded.

“Looks like this is one of the bad nights,” Florencia said. “I’ll handle this. Just stay behind me, Jonas.”

We stopped in a narrow section of the street, where to our right were two towering buildings of black, soot-covered brick, and an overgrown wooden fence. The lake, with its dark water totally still and unmoving, is to our left. A double-lane street was between us and the building, where horses and carriages would trot during the day, but was empty now.

I looked up, and the building loomed over us, casting a long, even darker shadow over the area. In front of us were many more abandoned buildings of dark stone, separated by a thick wooden fence, which was overgrown with dead weeds, that had not been tended to in a long time.

The entire area had a feeling of neglect and abandonment. Whoever pursued us picked the perfect spot for an ambush.

“Hey!” a throaty voice shouted.