Once Master Agathos freed Pheres from his bindings, he led them out of the holding chamber and down a long corridor with a high ceiling. The fierce glow of iron Dragon sconces lit the way. Hunter almost felt like their ruby eyes were watching him.

A hiss of exasperation drew his attention to Pheres, who shot Hunter a withering look. Impatience was stamped all over his features at Master Agathos' slow walking pace.

Hunter didn’t care, as long as they were long gone before Vassilus’ men arrived. It seemed to him that despite his renown, Master Agathos was still answerable to the officials in Delphare. Next time he returned, Hunter intended to find out why.

Halfway along the corridor, Master Agathos took an abrupt turn, taking Hunter and Pheres by surprise. With the snap of his robes, he opened the double doors leading into an opulent dining hall.

Agathos motioned them onward with his cane.

A banquet table ran the length of the room, draped in red silk, with golden cutlery and plates set as if he expected guests at any moment.

“For your safety, please don’t touch anything in this room.” Master Agathos looked directly at Pheres. He paused by a side table with a large crystal jug filled with water. “Please go through the double doors on the far side and wait for me there.”

Hunter and Pheres exchanged a look before nodding to Master Agathos. They walked on in silence, taking in all the fascinating curiosities in the room. It was a pity they didn’t have more time to explore.

Hunter opened the double doors and ushered Pheres outside, before his sticky fingers took something that didn’t belong to them.

“I’m not going to take anything!” Pheres crossed his arms and gave Hunter a haughty sneer. “I'm not as stupid as you look.”

Hunter rolled his eyes but didn’t reply.

They both glanced back at Master Agathos, who had a cloth in his hand. He moved at a quicker pace to rejoin them and promptly handed Hunter the now damp cloth. “You might want to clean all the blood off your face with that.”

Hunter thanked him and wiped his nose and mouth. The white cloth was covered in blood by the time he finished. It reminded him of the dull throb still lingering between his eyes.

“I’m an alchemist, not a healer, but I’ve lived long enough to know the signs of all kinds of poisoning. You've been ill before you arrived at the maze?”

Hunter bowed, averting his gaze. “I feel fine, and I’m already resistant to many poisons thanks to my training. But thank you for your concern.”

The master flicked a glance at Pheres, then gave Hunter a grim nod, as if to say he understood and wouldn't press him any further in present company.

“I’m glad to hear it.” He inclined his head. “But should you start to suffer from constant headaches and further nosebleeds, be careful about taking healing elixirs. They treat the symptoms of poisoning, but they will not cure the most deadly ones. For that, you need the right antidote or possess a purity relic.”

With that, he quickened his pace, leading them onwards through a parlor and down steps into a kitchen.

Pheres' brows raised. “Impressive! But where are all the servants and cooks?”

“I gave them the night off.” Master Agathos laughed and shook his head. On the far side of the kitchen was a small wooden door. It led to a scullery that looked ready for use, given all the cleaning tools, but again it was curiously empty.

No sign of servants anywhere.

Coming up to the next door, painted forest green, Master Agathos wrapped his knuckles on it. The sound echoed through the small room. “Once you go through this door, you’re on your own. Needless to say, it doesn’t lead you through the hedge maze. This is the messenger's entrance. I’d say you have about ten minutes at the most to leave this property, before Vassilus' men come this way.”

Pheres frowned. “How many entrances does this place have?”

Hunter wondered how, with his slow-moving pace, Master Agathos would ever greet his guests or messengers on time in such a vast space.

“As many as it needs.” Agathos gave Hunter a knowing wink.

Once the door was open, they stepped out into pitch blackness. Hunter wondered if some light-leeching runic magic was involved. “If we ever wanted to visit again, would we use this entrance?”

Master Agathos handed Hunter a key. “Put that in your ring, say ‘Glowspire’ if you ever wish to visit when you reach the hedge, like you did earlier tonight. Say those words. Instead of ending up in the maze, you will see an iron gate. Open it, and it will lead you to this entrance.”

As Hunter took the key, Pheres growled. “That looks like my key.”

“It was never yours or your father’s to begin with. Your father wrangled it from that crook Vassilus. Unfortunately, this property was under the care of the city for a long time before I took up residence. It would seem your father and Vassilus didn’t turn over all the keys to every entrance.”

Pheres opened his mouth, but Master Agathos' searing gaze shut it for him. “Be off with you before you get caught.” In a frightening blur, he shoved them across the threshold and slammed the door on their heels.

Hunter focused his chi into his eyes, sharpening his senses, until he adjusted to the murkiness. He could just make out the outline of a gate in the distance. He jogged towards it, picking up speed as he went; the only sound was their footsteps on the pebbles. Hunter unlocked the gate and carefully stuck his head out, looking both ways.

“Coast is clear. Let’s get back to the city, and I’ll give you your bottle of Buckfast.”

“And you can stay the hell away from me.”

“Give it a rest and let’s move. We're breaking curfew by being outside the boundary wall.” Hunter didn’t want to reveal he had the permission token from Helios.

“Curfews don’t apply to the likes of me. The city guards all know who my father is.”

Hunter shook his head.

Once clear of Master Agathos' property, the moon became visible, as if emerging from behind the dark clouds. It lit the path leading back to the city. Pheres grabbed his arm, slowing them down.

Three hulking figures approached.

Hunter tensed, but slowed to a walking pace. “Just act casual.” He pulled away from Pheres' vice grip.

Straightening, Pheres released his hold. “Actually, it’s best if you don’t say a word and leave the talking to me.”

Hunter looked around. Rolling hills stretched out with nowhere to hide.

“What if they’re not city guards?”

“The same applies.” Pheres huffed, indignant that Hunter dared question his authority. “Don’t open your blabbering mouth. I can be very persuasive. We're not dealing with degenerates on Death Island that easily fall for your base charm.”

“I hope you fight better than you insult.”

“I’m excellent at both. Why don’t you run away? That’s what you’re good at.”

Hunter’s resolve to remain calm crumbled. “You couldn’t fight your way out of a satyr dance circle, you useless sack of whale blubber.”

"Oi, you there."

A clang of armor echoed as the three figures charged towards them, withdrawing their weapons.

The three men spread out, blocking the path.

Hunter realized they weren’t city guards.

Damn mercenaries!

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The leader’s prosperous gut wobbled as he took a step forward, straining from the confines of his ill-fitting armor. He looked like he ate a whole hog at every meal. He paused and looked Hunter up and down. “You lovebirds out for a little stroll?” He cracked his neck, flexing his free hand as it rose to the worn hilt to form a two-handed grip on his Thracian sword.

“I think not, my good man.” Pheres took a large sidestep, opening up the distance between him and Hunter. “I barely know this imbecile. Please step aside, and we'll be on our way.”

All three mercs towered over Hunter and Pheres.

They didn’t move.

Pheres tsked. “You must be new to Delphare. My father is Port Manager Xuthos. Step aside, and I am sure he would oblige you all with much better armor and weapons than you currently have in your possession.”

The middle one scowled and looked down at his armor. He seemed to be the only one who took any pride in his appearance, with his curled mustache and well-groomed beard.

The smallest of the three mercs stepped closer, his sica knife gripped tight in his black-gloved hand. He thrust it in Hunter’s direction while wiping his whiskey-bruised nose.

“Ain’t you that rat bastard from the alley? You and your prissy pal are coming with us.”

The leader scowled. “We were given direct orders to arrest the trespassers in Master Agathos' compound.”

Hunter recognized the bloodlust in the smallest merc as he flashed a vicious smile. “We can do both. This one here commanded an army of rats and stole my weapon.”

The two other mercs exchanged a knowing glance, as if they both thought he was as deranged as he looked.

“I think you are mistaking me for someone else.” Ignoring the hammering of his heart, Hunter spoke the lie with an unconcerned shrug.

“Oh, you’re a dead man. No one calls me a liar.” He lunged, but Pheres deflected the blade with a much larger one of his own. With his free hand, he leaned and punched once, slamming into the crazed merc's cheek. He stumbled back in shock, his weapon dropping when he clutched his face.

“Call off your attack dog, and let’s discuss this with reason.” Pheres' voice was calm and measured.

“Are you going to let that pissant talk about me like that?”

The leader slapped the smaller merc across the face. “You don’t attack unless I say so. Know your place.”

The well-dressed merc laughed with scorn. “Reggie is right. In the grand scheme of things, you are lower than a snail's testicle.”

The small merc raised a gloved fist and spat in his direction. “Shut it, Hector. I don’t work for you.”

Pheres lowered his weapon, keeping it in hand but out of their line of sight. “If you all work for Vassilus, then he will not be pleased that you mistreated the son of his most esteemed business partner. So here is what is going to happen. You are going to step aside and let us pass, and I won’t tell my father how inconvenienced I was on return from an important business matter.”

The mercs burst into laughter.

This time the leader sported a wicked grin. “I have my orders. We are going to Master Agathos. You two look as shifty as a weasel; you’re coming with us. The magistratus can decide what to do with you when we get back.” He gestured for them to turn around with his sword pointing in the direction from which they came.

Hunter shot Pheres with a glare that said ‘if we turn our back on them unarmed, we're both dead men.’

Pheres returned a subtle nod to his hidden weapon to show Hunter he understood and eyed the direction they were told to go.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re all booted out of the city for the disrespect shown to me.” Pheres shoved Hunter and spun him around. “Move it lugnuts before they gut you where you stand.”

The small merc grunted under his breath. “That’ll happen sooner rather than later if I’ve anything to do with it. Want me ogre knife back, and I will clean the filth off and will use his blood to wet the blade.”

Pheres moved at a brisk pace back towards Agathos' compound.

“Why are you helping me?”

“I’m helping myself. You still have something that belongs to me and cannot fall into Vassilus' hands.”

The bottle of Buckfast Supernova.

Any illusion that Pheres was redeeming himself vanished.

Outnumbered three to two, all that mattered to Hunter was that they both survived.

The smaller merc walked more closely behind them. His stench reached Pheres' nose, and he wrinkled his nose. “Gods, man, take a bath. The last thing I want is to be flea-bitten.”

The merc barked a laugh. “A cultivator like you doesn’t need to worry about fleas.”

Hunter glanced down and stole a backward glance. The kill-happy bastard was raising his dagger in hand, preparing to stab them in the back.

Without another word, Pheres turned with a scorpion sword drawn, acting surprised with near theatrical movements to see the sneaky merc closing in. “A thousand apologies, my good man.” He wore an apologetic frown as though he accidentally ran his sword straight through the merc’s gut. “How careless of me.” He gave an exaggerated apology with a savage look in his eyes. “I’m so dreadfully sorry!”

The merc gasped, eyes bulging from their sockets and dropped his weapon. Pheres withdrew his sword from the merc’s gut with glee, letting him fall to the ground, where he lay bleeding out.

As the ground turned red around him, the other two mercs readied their swords, but the leader raised a fist to stop his well-dressed death squad comrade from charging at them.

Instead, they spread out, one each flanking them as Hunter turned to face them with his mithril knife drawn, a weapon that once belonged to the man dying at his feet.

Hunter's stomach clenched.

He felt sick to his stomach at the ease with how casual and almost satisfied Pheres was at taking a man’s life. There was a small comfort that the man was about to disobey orders and kill them, but this wasn’t a simulation. Anyone who died here wouldn’t be coming back.

There were no respawn flags in the real world.

The leader eyed his comrade. “I think these two are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Agreed, we are not paid enough to cart them around with us as prisoners. Although I’ll be happy to share Val’s pay with you.” The well dressed merc flashed his jewel-encrusted ring. “I’ve got plenty of room to store dead bodies, and who knows if what Val said was true. Perhaps, there’ll be a bounty on their heads we can collect.”

If Pheres was fazed, he didn’t show it. “I’m sorry I thought I’d done you a favor, because I got the distinct impression the smelly git wasn’t too well-liked.”

The moon hung like a sinister eye above them, casting the pooling blood around the body in an eerie light.

“Much like yourself, Pheres.” The leader’s voice was filled with scorn. “You are only alive thanks to your father, but I think tonight you’ve finally run out of luck.”

Hunter almost grinned, thinking about his Lucky Rabbit's Paw. This might be the perfect time to use it. But whose luck would he steal? These were life or death stakes, and if he stole bad luck,...perhaps he wouldn't have to.

“Yeah, you guys have it rough.” Hunter flashed a wicked smile. “I’m sorry about Val. Pheres is an impulsive prick. He told me the last time we met that he’d made a lot of enemies among the traveling mercs like yourself, but he was so proud that he was untouchable thanks to his father's protection.”

“What are you talking about?” The leader tightened the grip on his sword, leveling it at Hunter. The hilt looked worn, but the rust-bitten blade still looked deadly. His knuckles turned whiter the more Hunter spoke.

The well-dressed merc let out a polite chortle, knowing where Hunter was going with his story way before the leader did.

Hunter tilted his head toward Pheres. “This incorrigible noble told me how the young mistresses of the household become rather lonely when the hard-working mercs are off, well, working hard…”

Pheres shot him a scathing look.

“He also let slip that while you go around drinking and congratulating each other on a job well done, your lovely lady companions hold a different view. Out of sight, out of mind. How is your dearly beloved since Pheres last comforted her while you were away working?”

Pheres gave a ruthless knowing look. He lunged before the lead merc realized he was in trouble. His insides spilled out and fell around his ankles from a split gut.

Blades clashed as the remaining merc was upon Hunter. He ducked the sideways hacking motion and parried, using his strength and speed to his advantage.

Pheres finished off the lead merc by relieving his head from his shoulders.

The moonlight caught the cruel glint in his eyes—a chilling echo of his uncle’s past bloodshed.

The well-dressed merc, now the sole survivor, unleashed a vicious strike from the side.

Pheres, quick on his feet, flung dirt to blind him.

Hunter, his hair whipping around him like a shadowy cloak, moved with swift precision. He evaded the blinded strike and countered with deadly accuracy. His knife’s blade sliced upwards, carving a gruesome path from abdomen to chin.

The look of fear in the merc’s eyes, added to the vice grip tightening Hunter’s chest as the lifeless body hit the ground with a thud. Another one dead, by his hand.

Snapping his finger, Pheres slid the storage ring off of the merc's hand. “Get on with it and loot these corpses before I stash their bodies in their own ring.”

Hunter knelt down, grabbing the Thracian sword and slipping off the man’s leather bracer. He glanced at Pheres and stowed them in his inventory. “It seems like you’ve done this before.”

“You’re paler than a seagull! Lucky for you, I have the stomach for cleaning up this mess you got us in.” Pheres peered over his shoulder as the well-dressed merc’s body disappeared in the newly acquired jeweled ring that adorned Pheres’ finger. His eyes narrowed as he retrieved a parchment and scanned it. With a shrug he tossed it toward Hunter.

He clutched the note and examined its contents. The well-dressed merc, Hector, had set up a meeting with a couple of exiled pirates. His mind whirled with panic when he read their names and their request to ‘deliver the goods’ was all too clear—a simple reference to a disrupted core.

Hunter grabbed Pheres by the arm. “Aspa wants Jo!”

“You didn’t hear it from me but she is unhinged. Don’t say I haven’t done you any favors.” Pheres titled his head as he scoured the rest of the worthwhile items from the dead bodies before stowing them into his storage ring. “I'll get rid of these goons so Vassilus will think they skipped town. As for your sister, I’m staying out of that situation.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes. No doubt Aspa shot him down, but he wasn’t the first to warn him about her. As much as he disliked Pheres, he couldn’t blame him for steering clear of the situation. Hunter would fare much better if Pheres steered clear of his father Xuthos and his involvement with Jo.

“Now hand over the bottle of Buckfast, and let’s go our separate ways. You can keep your meager loot.”

Withdrawing the bottle, Hunter planted it into Pheres outstretched hand. “Thank you, you’re not as half bad as you used to be.”

“Don’t bother thanking me, and for all hells, don’t expect me to be your friend when you step back on my property.”