As the carriage ambled towards Grimguard, Akemi’s mind spun around Kobe’s last messages to her. She stared at the panel, the world going by blurrily in the background.

Kobe: Here’s your third option—they’re called Street Magistrates. Their prices are higher, but your purchases will be untraceable. And they have spellbooks that academic magistrates won’t sell. Ones that involve traditionally outlawed magic. Necromancy, Conjuration, and, of course, Mindshaping.

Kobe: You can find my contact in the cellar of the Deadly Good Beer tavern. You’ll have to bribe one of the mirthlings to let you in. Only about five silver, though. Once you do, my guy will be in the basement. Ask for the Deflect Mindshaping spellbook.

The Deadly Good Beer. That was the tavern that Pyre had taken her too. There were plenty of Shadow Auditors there last time. They’d definitely see me trying to smooth talk the mirthlings.

That wasn’t going to work.

Her eyes drifted to the front of the carriage, where an unsuspecting Bamo was leading the horses, lost in thought. Akemi smirked.

But they wouldn’t suspect the kid.

—

The tall, obsidian pillars of Grimguard loomed over them a short hour later as they pulled into the Grimguard stables. After docking the horses and paying the stablehand, the two headed for the inner city, peeling down a gravel path into the southern quarter of town.

“Here’s your payment,” Akemi said, handing Bamo a fat wad of cash—err—silvers. She learned that she could pull however much money out of her inventory, and it would convert to a tangible version of whatever variation of currency she needed: copper, silver, gold. “You’re welcome.”

The boy’s eyes gleamed, and he hurriedly stuffed it into his satchel, like it might disappear.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I’m very appreciative—”

“Great, wonderful, I don’t care.” She slapped him on the back as they trailed away from the carriage. “I have your next mission. You ready for it?”

He slumped, giving her a sidelong glance.

“A… mission?”

“Of course. That money doesn’t come free, silly.”

With a sigh, he straightened up, nodding.

“Of course. What do you need?”

She cracked her knuckles, mentally reviewing what Kobe had told her.

“A little spellbook, and a few mana potions,” she said. “Some Mindshielder spell called Deflect Mindshaping. The Rank Eight version.”

He brightened, seemingly relieved. “Oh, that’s way less dangerous of a mission than I thought it would be. I can just run to the university and—”

“You mean you can run to the bar.” She interjected, raising an eyebrow. “We’re not going to bother the academics. I’m sending you to an underground spelldoc. You’ll find him at Deadly Good Beer. I’ll give you the money to bribe the guards and pay for the books, all you have to do is return the goods to me. Easy peasy.”

Stolen novel; please report.

He looked instantly uneasy, which wasn’t too uncommon for Bamo, who looked perpetually like he might break out into a stress rash.

“But why? Grimgaurd’s magic academy will definitely have that book,” he whimpered. “And street magistrates are scary. Really scary. They’re, like, murderers.”

She rolled her eyes. “And? So are we. Plus, even if they do have the book, which I doubt they will, all purchases made at the magic academy are traceable. My sources tell me that the academies keep records of all book sales going in and out of those walls, and I’m sure the Shadow Auditors Coterie has their grimy little fingers in that spreadsheet as well. Even if it’s you making the purchase, I don’t want to leave any fingerprints behind. Especially since Pyre knows you’re working for me.”

Bamo stopped in his tracks, his expression faltering.

“Wait,” he said, confused. “Aren’t you a Shadow Auditor? And isn’t Pyre your friend?”

Akemi laughed. Her friend?

“Friend is a very loose term.”

He cast her an exasperated glance, one of those expressions that surfaced when his frustration surpassed his anxiety.

“I don’t think Pyre would see it that way.”

Akemi paused, her footsteps halting.

She turned around to look at him. Even at his teenage height, he was taller than her.

“I think you’re delusional,” she answered coldly, looking up to find his eyes. “Pyre would betray me at the drop of a hat. Mission acquaintances, sure, we managed, but friends? Not happening.”

She wasn’t sure why she felt so strongly about it; why she felt the need to stomp her heel so violently on his idiotic proposition. For a reason she couldn’t quite grasp, the prospect stirred something unpleasant in her; a sort of pain, like pricking your finger on a needle.

“And I think you’re wrong. I think she likes you,” Bamo said, shrugging. “Actually, I know she does. You just don’t seem… equipped to notice that sort of thing.”

Her jaw tightened, and an unusual sensation gripped her chest—a tautness stretching from her lungs to her throat. It resembled the feeling of swiping a finger through a candle flame:

Pleasantly treacherous.

Don’t go there, she thought, steadying herself. She’s nothing but a hindrance.

Still, she couldn’t resist.

“Likes me how?” she asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

Bamo strolled past her, then turned with a raised eyebrow. It was enough for Akemi to recognize that her facade had not held up as well as she had hoped. He seemed to relish this, testing her, having uncovered a domain in their relationship where he could assert some control—and he was dangling it like a wild fish.

“She talked about you for the whole trip back,” he revealed, then chuckled. “Not in a good way, of course. Only about how annoying, careless, and crass you are. But I’m good at reading in between the lines. Ravenguard always said I’d make a good spy in that way.”

Akemi’s stomach turned, her chest burning. She brushed it off by diverting the subject. “And yet he kept you as a delivery driver.”

“I like it that way,” he mumbled. “I’m not a thrillseeker. I don’t get high off putting myself in perilous situations, like you do.”

“Your loss,” she said, but then harped on the point again, unable to help herself. “But I still think you’re being optimistic. If complaining about someone means you like them, then that would mean I like a lot of people.”

Rock walls rose around them as they entered an alleyway. It was about as covert an entrance to the city as Akemi could find. Only rats and sewer grates were privy to their conversation.

“It’s not what she said. It was the way she said it,” Bamo continued. “Sure, I still think she’d kill you at the drop of a hat, don’t get me wrong. I just think… she’d hesitate.”

"How friendly," Akemi scoffed, her eyes rolling as she struggled to suppress a lump forming in her throat. "Alright, enough of this. Your opinions on Pyre and me? Irrelevant. I'm the one footing your bills, so you'll do as I say, understood?"

"I—"

"And spare me the relationship commentary," she interjected under her breath.

Swiftly, before he could say anything else, she darted in front of him, setting a determined course for the city center. She’d send him on his way to the tavern, and she’d run a couple of extraneous errands, setting Nocturne off her trail.

(And although she couldn't see Bamo's face, an irritating intuition told her he was grinning.)