It felt a little bit strange waking up with nothing bad happening to me right now. Nobody tried attacking me, no sudden alarms, and no cryptic dreams of a haunting doom close to my future.

But just because there were no immediate threats after my life didn’t mean that all of my problems had also gone away. It took me a little bit longer trying to leave my room as I knew what problems I was going to have to face.

The stack of new books sat right next to my reminder… along with the shorthand notes reminding me of the problems I had to deal with today.

Domains, fae rules, trying to understand ‘their magic’ which was a trial in itself.

On the surface the rules were the same… except they worked in opposite areas. ‘Fae Magic’ for a better lack of word operated on presence and secrecy… follow the masquerade rules to hide the existence of magic and then when it is time to reveal yourself go as big, flashy, and loud as possible.

Normal… well my magic operated in the same method as a gun… in more ways than one. Yes it could kill your opponent quickly, but waving around a gun got you killed… and everybody knew about guns. The simple trick was shooting first, well, and taking cover.

Or that what I kept trying to tell myself when my new ‘housemate’ had knocked on my door before more or less strolling into my room before finishing the knock. I had been trapped inside this house for four days and yet she always found the time to ‘stumble’ across me half-naked.

And she always tried to ‘return the favor’ at the moment. This time she was wearing a loose shirt that went below her waist, but didn’t seem to be wearing much besides it. There probably was something hidden to give her a sense of modesty, but the shirt tried to imply otherwise.

She looked me up and down before giving her best attempt at a whistle as I sighed “What is it now?”

The half-elf crossed her arms “So… any more hints from the book she left?”

The recovered (or magically appeared) book that everyone had left when the old hag died had somehow brought itself back into the house. It was an interesting book that brought more questions than answers… and half of those answers made you regret learning them.

Making sure my pants were up and secure before she tried anything I motioned towards the array of pictures much to the confusion of Averia. To anyone else they were a mess of gibberish… to myself?

“Look familiar?” I asked “It took a good chunk of the night, but I cracked the first half of this section.”

That was a lie as the ‘code’ for this section had been extremely simple. Heck it practically handed me the blueprints and a step by step video on how to solve it… yet to anyone else?

She glanced at the picture of the blond-haired woman in the green dress “Uh… are these people she tried to blackmail… or the people in charge of the outsiders resting at the city border?”

The picture of ‘knife girl’ was left hanging on the whiteboard with a line connecting her picture to the Half-elf girl… The ‘green heir’ so to speak as I had already tried asking who this person was to a couple of other people and… nobody seemed to know.

Especially the people who had been calling for her head on the day of the trial… everyone expect for The Stitch Witch at least.

Running a hand through my hair I motioned over to the second picture of the woman who had called herself ‘Scarlet’ who looked like a tan beauty model… to the ginger.

There was no explanation for the feeling as if you asked me I wouldn’t have noticed or remembered. Yet it was like trying to remember a person’s face only to be given a picture to help connect the dots… only in this case it was a little more complicated.

“No idea.” Averia muttered before taking a closer look at the pictures “Amber camping out in the woods when she was studying Norse Rune work, but I don’t see the connection.”

I motioned towards the other two pictures feeling a pit in my stomach “And these two?”

The half-elf nodded her head “Alexandria and… Hazel.” She rubbed her head “No clue who the other girls are or what their connection is..”

I glanced at the pictures. Two of them were of Alexandria… and the other two were ‘Hazel’ and Rebbeca. The only problem was that Averia couldn’t make the connection… I mean it should have been obvious since they were pictures of the exact same person…

Except when you added in the first picture. The one stupid picture I had forgotten on that stupid night. The one that showed when I first came to this stupid house on a hill as the old friendly lady had taken a picture of us all at that dinner table.

Her victims with the words ‘Anyone can be nice for a day’. The second set being listed as ‘Anyone can change for a day’. Then the third set ending with ‘And sometimes we forgot what actually happened for a day.’

In short… the entire thing was set up both as a trophy for the havoc the old witch had caused… and a not so subtle clue at telling who had been ‘compromised’ when during the night of that stupid trial. Out of the four girls who had left Willow’s Hill… only two of them escaped as the other two had been captured.

“Sorry.” I lied to her “Just trying to figure out the gaps. The encryption part isn’t that hard… but it’s the ‘obvious hints’ that make me want to bang my head against the wall.”

The half-elf girl shrugged “It’s memories of our past when Agatha trained us…” She was silent for a moment “So how long until you are ready? I mean I finally got you out of house arrest.”

That brought a small measure of enjoyment to me since there was a lot of stuff I was missing… and yet questions of how I was going to pay for it started to rise up. Since all of my old ID cards (real and faked) were gone along with a few bank cards… pretty much anything with a name on it had been removed.

“Don’t worry the Council is willing to pay to help you restock on supplies.” Averia spoke in a calm tone “Just so long as you…”

“Check the morague.” I muttered with unease “They seriously kept the corpse of a Reanimator there?”

The half-elf scratched the back of her head “Most things tend to stay dead after they die… and whatever they did wasn’t necromancy… which is kind of freakier. I mean we have wards built to deal with regular necromancy.”

Apparently the ‘dead bodies’ of anything from that night had magically been sent to someplace safe and out of the way to prevent any of the ‘normal people’ from showing the head of a dead werewolf to the local news.

The problem was that the Reanimtors were ‘technically dead’ during that period making everyone think things were safe… right up until they reanimated themselves and got to work reviving those who had been working for them along with a few others.

The Council didn’t want to admit that they were tricked and asked for my help… but they had reached a point where their pride no longer mattered.

The Reanimators were from Kornea and they didn’t even know much less cared about the unwritten rules of the secret magical Masquerade… and The Council was getting fed up with damage control.

“Give me an hour to finish getting dressed and putting away my stuff.” I replied, glancing at my alchemist set “It would be dangerous if anyone messed with it without me being nearby to fix it.”

“I’ll let them know you are disarming the booby traps.” Averia spoke half-joking.

Truth was that I didn’t trust them trying to steal anything while I was gone. The other problem was that I needed time to finish cleaning up and finishing the last of my paranoia checks.

Once the half-elf left my room. I went into my bathroom and checked the picture of myself. Most people would think it was vain to keep a picture of themselves in the bathroom, but I remembered the dirt and grim… how it felt as if I had been half buried in a grave.

It wasn’t the best picture I ever had, but it matched ‘me’ during the first picture… and it was ‘me’ in the second picture. If I had been compromised then I wouldn’t match the same description of the person in the picture.

“Brown hair. Brown eyes, ears are not pointed…” I glanced at the blood red stained water. “Blood is still red so I’m still human no matter what they say.”

A small vial of healing potion had been left by the counter as I took out the eyedropper and applied a drop onto my arms. The wound healed without even leaving a mark… I would make a killing selling this stuff in Kornea if I knew how to make it.

Still rubbing my wrists I took a deep breath and glanced at the clock. Over an hour had been spent trying to brew up new ink, tending to the (Semi-illegal in Kornea) plants, and of course trying to ease the morning paranoia that kicked in when my life wasn’t in danger.

“Time to start a new day.” I told my reflection.

----------------------------------------

You know when most people brought you outside you expected certain reactions. If you are brought to crowds who are booing, then you are in trouble. If you were given bodyguards then it meant they were trying to protect you. If they sent people to watch you then it meant they were trying to keep you from running.

So what did it say when their first destination was a bank?

I sat in one of the offices trying not to swing my feet underneath the chair or start to wonder how many pieces of magically enchanted items I had concealed all over my body. The revolver felt hot in its holster as I had repeatedly explained that I had a concealed firearms licences before every ID I had was stolen from me.

Ironically or more annoyingly they treated my gun like a joke as they sent Mr Knight to help escort me around town. Mr Knight being the large burly bald black bodyguard that made me think ‘Cobra Bubbles’ if anyone asked me to make a joke about him… or that would be the (obviously fake) name he would give me if I asked.

Mr Knight was busy trying to speak with one of the bank managers while Averia ironically was the one barred from entering the building. As in they had literal security officers setting up iron push stops right outside the door when they spotted her.

The kind that stopped people until they pushed forward, put some coins into the machine, or simply hopped over them.

Averia was left standing outside the bank glaring at the security officers who stayed behind the objects.

After a few minutes the balding man in a business suit stepped back into the room while closing the curtains to try to give us a bit more privacy… it wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do that or if it was legal, but then again… the magical community really didn’t seem to care about ‘Mundane Legal law’ so to speak.

He pulled out a cloth and whipped his forehead “I take it this is the Heir… or is he?”

“The Magician.” The knight emphasised “He is not The Binder, but The Traveler.”

It took me a few seconds before I remembered he was referring to the ‘titles’ which each of the heirs had been given. The fact that I was the person who wanted to leave, yet couldn’t made the man calm down a little.

The banker smiled though it was still a bit strained “So… For the purpose of your records and accounts, what are your domains.”

“Isn’t that what we are setting up?” I asked pulling out my wallet “No ID, records, or…”

“His craft lies outside standard magic.” The knight interjected “At the cost of his memories.”

“My memory is perfectly fine.” I nearly snapped back “It’s not my fault you have some crazy witch curse messing with everyone else’s memories.”

There was an awkward pause as Mr Knight rolled his eyes as the banker stared at me as if I had taken one too many blows to the head. With a bitter sigh I pulled out the ‘fancy gloves’ and a piece of coal. With a bit of magic and a tight grip I placed the newly formed diamond onto the table as the banker stared at it in disbelief.

The Knight coughed looking back at the door “The Traveler is supposed to find new arcane… and Kravos had done a little too well.”

The banker pulled out a pair of spectacles as he examined the diamond with an almost drooling interest before he popped the diamond into his mouth and seemed to chew on it for a second before spitting it out.

“No glamour, rough cut, probably needs to be cleaned up, but…” He glanced at me as the fear had been replaced with open greed “Yes… Yes I believe I can look up the old records and accounts of the Willow estate.”

He quickly moved out of his seat and started looking through the various boxes, cabinets, and records… but he never returned the diamond.

After a few moments he placed down the various stacks of papers, documents, and a large assortment of pens. He was about to hand me one until the knight stopped him as he shook his head. The man withdrew an old iron ink pen and a bottle of ink.

“Be very careful.” Mr Knight spoke with a small glare at me “His… Pacts tend to have a more lethal bite than most.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“But I thought you said…” The banker stumbled

“Spirit of the Pact. Not the Letter.” I informed him “Eldritch beings do not understand legal loopholes or they tend to take offense.”

The fact I had to keep repeating it so many times made me wonder if I should start making business cards with the words printed on it.

“Ah…” The banker started to dab the top of his forehead with the cloth again “But… you obtained the domain of stone… or is it riches from them?”

“It is not ‘riches’ if you can make gemstones as cheap as plastic rocks.” I said with a sigh “Inflation is still a thing after all.”

“Ah yes…” The banker spoke in an almost wishful tone “We wouldn’t want to crash the mundane marketplace with hard to find gemstones now would we. They’d probably waste them making rings or something.”

Mr Knight cleared his throat waking the banker from his wishful dream “This is to help set up proper funds for research, abiding to Council Rule… and for providing a means of pay for… odd tasks that would be better left out of official reports.”

The banker took one look at my gloves “So you have no Domain… yet you can make Diamonds…” He slowly nodded his head “Yes… that is something best left unwritten on official documents.”

He carefully placed the contracts before me as he explained each one. The man left no detail out trying to set out every detail, responsibility, and to make sure that I understood what the contract actually meant in order to avoid any ‘Pacts’ causing a rebound effect.

After two hours all of the long drawn out papers had been signed as the man had walked away filling the reports. The worst part was that if they hadn’t been trying to point out and explain every detail then I knew it would have been worse.

Their idea of making sure the Pact wouldn’t rebound was to explain every detail and put it up in the shortest format. Even then I saw them pulling some contracts out and specifically rewriting them as that was their goal for today.

Bind me with agreements I couldn’t break out of in exchange for not having me play Tyrant on the Hill.

For me it wasn’t much as I probably would have agreed to most of the things anyway… yet for them? It felt odd having to agree not to turn anyone’s house pet into a sabertooth tiger or dire wolf. It was a little more worrying that there was an entire separate contract specifically made for ‘not shooting the messenger’ when they brought bad news.

Most of the basic agreements I had asked for in return were agreed without even a second thought in exchange for the ones previously mentioned. The only one that left a real point of concern was the one listed as ‘mind control’ or any attempts of tampering the mind through the use of magic.

That took far longer than I would have liked.

By the time we got to hammering out the final details. Mr Hawkings had stepped into the office. The dark skinned wizard had carried a briefcase full of papers and one glaring Alaeros rubbing his mitten gloves.

“Were they really necessary?” The elf hissed in mild annoyance

Mr Hawkings shrugged “Secrecy is needed and there are outsiders lurking about. So… agreement about this eye?”

I carefully pulled the silver orb out of my backpack “This is the stupid silver orb. Do not touch, do not get blood on it, and do not think that toying with the Ring of Sauron will end in anything other than your own demise.”

That actually earned a chuckle from the elf as the others stared at the orb in slight disappointment. They knew it was magical, but somehow I expected that they were expecting something a bit… more magical so to speak.

Pulling out a notepad Mr Hawkings read out loud “If you ignore the rope in the trees you will take an Eye for the Eye that was Taken.” the others glanced at him in unease as he looked up at me “What would happen if somebody stole it? If someone more reckless might try to use it?”

I chuckled nervously, shaking my head “What would happen? Nothing at first… they might hear whispers or voices, but nothing bad until they try to use it.” I focused on him “Thus the whole ‘Do not poke cursed relic’ line.”

“You read his future.” Alaeros spoke in a grim tone “That's why you chose him over the others.”

They all glanced at me as I started to feel a little bit unease as the damn thing started whispering in the background. Just minor words… thoughts… suggestions that lingered in the back of your mind.

Covering the thing up I hissed loudly “Did you seriously make a Pact with Para’dax! You do realize that the concept of linearity is a novel idea to him right!”

There was a long pause as I could actually hear the eldritch entity chuckling as I zipped up the backpack. My mind was racing for how much damage control I was going to have to deal with before…

“No… I actually read the cards to get a glimpse of your future.” Mr Hawkings spoke putting away his notepad “What do you mean by ‘linearity’ as a novel concept?”

I gritted my teeth as I wasn’t sure if his excuse somehow made things worse if it was better that the person in charge hadn’t tried making a Pact with one of the more powerful if slightly dangerous eldritch beings.

Not that Para’dax was evil mind you… just… dangerous.

The kind of absurd danger that if he had a butterfly flapping its wings you had an actual hurricane appear a few miles regardless of the previous weather.

“A being that had been explained what the term paradox actually meant. So naturally it decided to name itself after the term, finding it absolutely delightful.” I slowly muttered “If that doesn’t give you a reason for concern then I don’t know what will.”

There was the odd long stare “How?”

I had no idea who asked the question, but I shook my head “Magic is the alteration of reality which in terms means it still works within the confines of reality. Fire burns, water is wet, manipulation of biomass can restore limbs.”

“Manipulation of biomass…” The banker stumbled over the words.

I glanced at him “Flesh, bone and muscle. I can in theory hack off my hand and stick it back on… but I can not turn my hand into a solid gold brick.”

Maybe that was pushing it a little, but it gave you a general frame of reference for how merely improbable things were possible when you applied magic to it.

I cleared my throat as I set up the part most sane people stayed away from “When something falls across the ‘Eldritch Line’ you don’t ask… you try your best to deal with it and then promptly ignore it for your own sanity.”

“Worst case.” Mr Hawkings replied.

That actually took me off guard for a moment as most people tend to take the words ‘Eldritch’ and ‘Insanity’ as self explanatory. Most people liked being sane so most people tended to avoid trying to drive themselves insane.

But these people had Fae so maybe betting on their sanity was a bad bet.

I pinched my nose “Worst case? Imeria gets contracted with a vessel and starts trying to ‘help’ all the poor helpless humans unable to fully express or utilize their lovely imagination. She isn’t evil mind you… but she has a hard time trying to understand human concepts.”

Trying to repress a shiver I tried to give a broad example “Like how humans might struggle if you gave them muscular bodies that prevented them from walking… or allowing a human to always have their physical form change as even their own senses would shift around every hour… that doing that might cause the lovely human mind to go horribly insane.”

There was an awkward cough as they all looked at me with unease and fear. The fact that I was telling them the truth and through some odd quirk that their brain didn’t want to admit… the flickering glance at the orb made it seem obvious.

Like I was stating the sky was blue or that walking on the ground wouldn’t suddenly have us fly straight into the stratosphere. Some basic concepts that even a child understood from how blindingly obvious it was.

The ‘helpful aspect’ of the orb that simply helped people understand that I was telling the truth and there was no misunderstanding, exaggeration, or deceit… just the simple truth.

It technically wasn’t mind control only due to the fact that it served to help ‘translate’ certain ideas or concepts to beings that struggled with them… like how the process of linear time works.

“Why would anyone want it?” The banker spoke with unease

The elf shook his head “No… how was it built and what do the people outside the city want with it. That is the question we should be asking.”

That earned a slightly bitter chuckle out of me “Same reason why anyone else would want it. Power and for some like Akara… they want to make a second Spire.”

There was a long pause as the others didn’t seem to understand what I was saying, but the obvious look of fear on the elf’s face told me that he knew. The name was lost on everyone else, but the sense of recognition and fear was all to familiar.

I glanced at him “I take it… there is a reason for their grudge against the Fae?”

All eyes turned on him as he tried changing the subject “When was the city of the lost made?”

There was no easy way of telling them the truth… They were thinking that Kornea was some ancient vast city built before the dawn of man hidden away in some magical deep subspace pocket that could only be reached through some obscure arcane means.

“The first city… roughly around the first Crusade. Kornea on the other hand was claimed I think around World War One… maybe that brief period in between it and the second world war..” I muttered trying to remember “Honestly it's more due to the advancement of the craft that things are starting to get a bit more common or easier…”

“You mean it’s new.” Mr Knight spoke in disbelief “But how…”

“You mean it’s becoming more… common.” The elf spoke with unease

I rolled my eyes “Anything beforehand would easily be dismissed or small enough not to really make a big impact. It’s why you don’t get history books with native american indians flinging fireballs and lightning bolts at the english settlers or why the Incan Empire fell to the Spanish.”

There was a small awkward pause as I realized that technically… these people had magic not related or connected to The Spire… I mean… even then the closest thing to address the public consciousness or even humanity entertaining the idea of something like this came from HP Lovecraft.

“You do realize that the closest thing to public concesiones to ‘Eldritch’ roughly came out around the 1900s right?” I asked, trying to remind everyone of that certain writer “Is it that hard to believe that those working the craft wouldn’t improve upon it?”

“Yes.” The wizards spoke in a unified tone

That answer actually threw me off as you generally replaced old things with new things. An old sword breaks? Get a new one. Someone found out how to make a better gun? Get it. A random person found out how to cast magic without the use of long inefficient knifes, robes, and vague latin like chanting?

Far easier to go to the supermarket and pick up spell ingredients than trying to pretend they were a secret cult society. Especially when the internet making it easier to communicate with people these days.

“Quick question… why isn’t there any history records of your side getting involved with the first or second World War?” Sure it was a little bit off topic, but the question was starting to bother me “I doubt it was due to lack of supplies as technically that is the major reason why most people who leave Kornea can’t continue the craft.”

“Who says we didn’t?” Alaeros spoke with a hint of amusement “You don’t find it odd that the concept of Gremlins didn’t become popular around the Second World War?”

Mr Hawkings coughed “Not that anyone had any involvement with it.”

“Gremlins…” I repeated as the elf couldn’t be serious… could he?

The elf in question chuckled “An offshoot of goblin. You don’t find it strange that your so called ‘imp’ can walk into a church, suck on batteries, and cause ‘mischief’ to electronics? Almost as if they had been bred specifically for that purpose when there were no mention or hints of them before?”

He just sort of smirked “A rather ‘odd’ path of evolution considering how ‘new’ technology is. Or did you think Gremlins before then just ran around in forests and open plains trying to find random thunderstorms to sate their hunger until ‘modern’ batteries and electricity had been invented?”

“Futurm isn’t a gremlin.” I tried to argue “He is just…”

“A genetically modified organism with fancy sounding words to try to explain a concept while ignoring the obvious truth.” Alaeros spoke in a deadpan tone “Ever since the printing press came out humanity preferred pretending that they knew everything and ignored the obvious signs that suggest otherwise.”

He chuckled “Reminds me of when they tried stating how America didn’t exist or how Lemuria had to exist because of Lemur fossils as they ignored evidence of continental drift until the proof practically was slapped across their faces.”

I felt like saying something if only to defend my argument, but the elf had made a pretty good point… one that was a little harder to argue with than ‘They were called imps more to mess with crusaders factions’... especially to an elf admitting that there was supernatural activity during the world wars.

It was just that humanity tried to ignore the supernatural nonsense.

Also, apparently Gremlins were a thing.

The elf glanced at Mr. Hawkings “So now that eldritch monsters have been confirmed to be real and that this ‘orb’ is supposed to help them transition into this reality… is there a part in that prediction of the future to help us avoid having the city ripped from existence?”

Mr Hawkings pulled out the notepad again as the rest of the room looked at my backpack with the same careful stance as one might handle a highly volatile explosive or a very fragile vial of some contagious super virus.

Say what you want about Alaeros, but I had to admit… he made a pretty convincing argument for everyone to not mess with the silver orb of doom.

The older wizard cleared his throat “Silence brings inspiration at the door, Pale faced innocent will drown in bile. And he will be paid his price.”

Nobody said anything as I tried to figure out what exactly all of that was referring to. I mean… cryptic nonsense that could probably justify anything after it had happened, but it was all gibberish to me.

Mr Hawking glanced at me “And yes The Council has taken cosidity of the corpse hanging in the tree… We thought it would be wise to prevent temptation after all.”

“And that is what you were going with to pick me out of all the Heirs?” I asked mildly annoyed that a prophecy was the reason I was stuck being here.

The wizard shook his head “When the phrases ‘The Blade shall sing upon the blood of the innocent’ or ‘As you laugh over the corpses of the fallen’ generally are not recommendations of endorsement.”

That was… I had to admit that while that didn’t say what was supposed to happen... it gave enough incentive to take the cryptic warning with a grain of salt. Especially when you had Fae living within the city.

“Okay fine.” I shook my head “Let's find a thick bank vault or a rather deep pit to toss this into. Find out what problem is trying to kill me, and then let me leave this city.”

The banker had been nodding his head in agreement before rapidly shaking his head at the last part. Apparently my little ‘gem trick’ was far too valuable to him than the threat of an eldritch apocalypse striking the city.

Mr Hawkings took a deep breath “That will be complicated because latter on this week… we will need to address your rival.”

“My rival?” I asked in mild disbelief

Mr Hawkings bit his lip before finally saying “The other forces left within the city who haven’t committed crimes like this… Spire Faction have found themselves a patron and backer.”

I shook my head as this really didn’t matter to me. Trying to keep the people outside the city to stay outside the city felt more concerning to me. In fact the whole ‘reanimators running loose’ bit felt like a larger concern than some idiots running about as Lord of the Ring rejects.

“One of the Heirs has already made it back into the city… and they are challenging the current heir by rite of magic as they seek to reinforce their claim of the Hill against your current ownership.” Mr Hawkings spoke in an annoyed tone

I nearly snapped back at him as I had a good line prepared right up until he opened up the suitcase. It showed a picture of a family being held hostage with some really pale people grinning with teeth far too sharp for human mouths.

“One of the Council has been taken hostage along with her family.” Mr Hawkings spoke in a dull tone “So please… if you say this doesn’t matter to you… let me know beforehand.”

I gulped as a large part of me really wanted to say that. Whatever they had done was their own fault and just because they kept me trapped in this city didn’t mean I was going to run around as their trained errand dog.

Yet it is a lot harder to say ‘no’ when you can actually do something to help.

The elf nodded his head “Her claim is by rite of magic as while you legally own the hill by mortal law. She is stating her claim of ownership by magic overrides yours. That also includes things like basic human decency to how people should be treated.”

I took a deep breath as I tried to state the obvious “So shoot her in the head. Surely this place has a SWAT team or something… I mean if I walk in there then what is to prevent ‘her’ from simply having everyone shoot me?”

“There are rules.” Mr Knight finally spoke up “To try and cheat your claim would be to admit that her own claim is insufficient. It would weaken the grasp of her own domain and to those she has lured on the promise of empty promises.”

Okay so she couldn’t simply have people shoot me because that would make her look weak. It still didn’t sound like a good enough reason to me. After all you could simply shoot anyone who claimed you were weak until nobody was left to say it outloud.

Plenty of bullies operated on that premise and they didn’t let little details or facts interfere with their ego.

“The Council has agreed to give you a blank check for today to buy any necessary supplies you may need including materials you will require for your craft, research, and… food for the house.” Mr Hawkings admitted in mild reluctance “If you succeed your claim upon the hill will be secure.”

“I would rather all of you accompany me than toss me in front of their doorstep.” I muttered in open annoyance.

“Deal.” Mr Knight spoke without a second thought as I turned to stare at him “You fear she might try to do something underhanded. We will ensure that you arrive there safely for the Trial.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and thought of all the reasons why I shouldn’t be doing this. In fact I tried limiting them down to things that logically made sense instead of just out of pure spite of everyone keeping me trapped here.

Then I thought about what Jack would have done.

It would have been easy to have simply walked away… yet he didn’t when I was in danger.

I owed him that and he’d probably have wanted me to do the same.

Even if it was freaking stupid.

“You do realize I’m going to need bullets for my revolver right?” I asked revealing the gun “I’d like a better gun, but I’m on short notice.”

“We will have a case ready when you return to the house.” Mr Hawkings replied without missing a beat “Anything else?”

I thought about it for a little bit longer “What are the pale people in the picture? If I have to fight them then I’d like to know what they…”

“Vampires.” Mr Knight replied.

I nearly chuckled “Vampires? You can’t be serious… you’re serious.”

“It is the reason why they want to have the meeting at night, Magician.” Mr Knight spoke in a firm tone “Like elves… vampires are real.”

A nervious chuckle escaped my throat as I had to ask the stupid question "Does garlic work on them?"