Victor tried his best to stay alert as the trio stumbled through the midnight streets of what appeared to be the seedier side of the mercantile district.

Thomas and Chloe supported him on either side, straining to keep him upright as Chloe directed them down winding dark alleyways.

Victor had woken up to find himself being carried over Thomas’s shoulder. He had no memory of anything after the fight with the troll — perhaps he had been unconscious the whole time — but the fresh night air had stirred him from his murky slumber.

Victor had then insisted that he walk himself — a request which was at first stubbornly refused and then begrudgingly granted. Of course, he was regretting it now — he could barely keep his footing even with the other two bearing the vast majority of his weight.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Grunting, Thomas stopped and wrapped his arms around Victor’s waist. “You’re being carried.”

Victor tried to protest as the other boy tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of flour, but all he could manage was a pitiful mumbling.

“You’re in no condition to keep going like this,” Thomas chided him, “and besides, you’ve been slowing us down.”

Victor tried to scowl, but he was so achy and exhausted that even his facial muscles revolted against his will. “Where are we going again?” He wheezed.

“Shush,” Chloe admonished him as the trio crept forward through the shadows, casually avoiding the wide circles of light cast by the occasional alchemical lamp. “We can talk when we get there.”

After about a quarter of an hour, Chloe stopped in front of a haphazardly constructed stone staircase leading up to a rickety wooden door. The structure was three stories tall, not including the basement, and was pretty much identical to all the others around and across from it, except for the small, pale silvery lantern hanging above the doorway.

It was far smaller and dimmer than Lord Harvey’s street lamps, and the light it gave off was far, far colder.

Thomas set Victor down on the first step as Chloe ascended up to the landing. As Victor watched, she retrieved a small, unfamiliar key from her satchel, inserting it into the lock with a soft click.

Victor frowned for real this time. She has a key? Where is this place? Those thoughts unsettled him. Just how much had she been hiding?

The door swung inwards silently, revealing a yawning darkness. Giving Victor a hand, Thomas pulled him up, and the two boys stepped up to follow Chloe. Victor had to grip the black iron railing, and his legs almost gave out once, but he eventually made it.

Chloe had stepped fully inside. The two boys shared a glance. Thomas shrugged. Sighing, the other boy stepped inside as well, leaving Victor with no choice but to follow him.

Victor could barely see anything at all. The only thing he was able to discern about his new surroundings was that he appeared to be in the entry hall of a private residence. Strange, that it should be in this part of the city — though such things certainly weren’t completely unheard of.

Chloe shut the door behind them. They were now in almost complete darkness, and the only thing that Victor could use to guide himself was Thomas’s outstretched hand. He hoped that the other boy was following Chloe — and even more importantly, that Chloe knew what she was doing.

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“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Brilliant white light instantly flooded the entire room, forcing Victor to shut his eyes in pain. Fuck. He was already developing a headache.

Squinting after a moment, he made out the silhouette of a wild haired woman standing at the entrance to what appeared to be a small, cramped, and incredibly messy but well stocked kitchen.

Instead of focusing on the woman’s face, Victor’s eyes roamed over the piles of dirty dishes, the literal armory of knives, other utensils, and numerous miscellaneous cooking tools, the… industrial furnace?

He caught a glimpse of the pantry as well. An entire wall of glass tubes of spices…

“What are you doing here? And who the devil are these two?”

Victor’s gaze finally landed on the speaker. She was a small, serious woman of middling age, with unkempt silvery hair and eyes that seemed to reflect the light almost like a cat’s. She was wearing loose, plain white nightclothes. In one hand she gripped a steak knife.

Chloe raised her hands in a placating, diplomatic gesture. “I’m sorry for the… sudden intrusion, but we really need your help. We don’t have anywhere else to go.” The woman didn’t move, and Chloe lowered her hands, glancing back at Victor. “This is my brother, Victor. He also worked for Lord Harvey.”

Victor blinked, suddenly even more alert. Why was his association with Lord Harvey relevant? The way Chloe spoke implied that the knife wielding woman had also worked for the crime boss.

“I see.” The woman lowered her knife. “And what about the other one?”

Chloe shrugged. “Victor apparently went into the dungeon to hide, I went in looking for him, and this guy — Thomas — helped us through it.”

The woman didn’t move. “I see.” She paused for a moment, seemingly perfectly content to let the silence stretch uncomfortably. Chloe squirmed. Finally, the woman spoke again. “Okay. What do you need?”

Visibly relieved, Chloe let her shoulders relax, before taking a deep breath. “We need a place to stay for just a few days while we figure things out.” The woman nodded slightly at that. “And my brother — he has what I’m pretty sure is some bad chaos exposure, as well as all kinds of injuries from ichor drippers.”

“You want me to treat him.”

Chloe’s voice was perfectly cold and matter of fact. “Yes.”

Setting her knife down on the table, the woman sighed. “I’ll do it.” Chloe visibly perked up, and the woman raised her index finger. “But. You’ll owe me a favor in kind for this.”

Chloe nodded hastily. “Yes, of course.”

The woman’s gaze landed on Victor. She scrutinized him from a distance, scanning every part of him, her gaze lingering on his fur cloak, before landing back on his eyes. “Right then. Let’s knock you out.”

Victor felt as if his face had paled, the blood draining away from the surface. But he really didn’t care. In all honesty, the idea of returning to unconsciousness was quite appealing — in fact, he was having to exert quite a bit of will to prevent himself from dropping on the spot.

“Stay here,” their new host commanded Chloe. “I’ll be just a minute.”

Grabbing a key from a hook on the wall, the woman retreated down a side passage. Once she was gone, Victor slumped against the off white plaster wall. He stared at the enchanted light overhead. It was strange — something about it was quite unlike any other enchanted lights he had ever seen.

Whether it was the particular character of the light it gave off or something about its design, Victor couldn’t say. He stared until he thought he could see stars.

No one spoke.

Finally, hurried footsteps approached, signaling the return of their host. Now, she carried a minuscule injection needle in her black gloved hands.

“Alright. Lay him down on the floor here.”

Obeying, Victor practically collapsed to the threadbare rug, leaning back and closing eyes. He relaxed his body, especially his upper arms. This wouldn’t actually be the first time he had received a shot.

“Why are we doing this here? Shouldn’t we bring him to the basement?” Chloe asked.

“Oh, we’re bringing him down there right after. I just don’t want him freaking out.” Their host paused. “Patients always seem to get cold feet once they see what’s down there,” she muttered.

Victor tensed — just as the needle stabbed him, sending a sharp pain lancing up his arm.

And then everything faded to darkness.