The bathroom, like everything else in the cradle of unease that was the Shadow Auditors’ chapel, was nothing more than an imitation of the real thing.

The sinks were cracked, held together by a glossy wax that imitated glue, ants, imperceptibly small, crawled from every orifice, giving the appearance of tiles and wallpaper. But this phenomenon was the most clear when looking at the toilets: which had finely constructed, perfectly tidy stall doors, but once you opened that door, you were greeted by a gaping hole in the floor.

And no toilet paper.

Akemi was very grateful she’d have no reason to return to this hell hole anytime soon. The coffeeshop bathroom, with its luxurious functioning toilet, would do just fine.

Utterly repulsed, she closed the stall door nonetheless. All she was doing was muttering a spell, but she had the paranoid fear that if someone were to merely see her here, she’d be caught. Caught in what, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like anyone knew of her plans—even Nocturne, who had the most reason to be suspicious of her, didn’t seem bothered by her bathroom break.

Just as she was about to mutter the spell under her breath, she heard the bathroom door creak open. And in that moment she was eternally grateful for the terrible quality of everything, because the stall doors had very wide, uneven margins between them, and she could see just enough to notice the springy red hair descending down rigid, perpetually tensed shoulders.

It was Pyre. Annoyingly inconvenient as always.

Akemi frowned, but it was fine. She’d just have to wait until the other woman left.

“Damn it,” Pyre said, pressing her hand to the cracked mirror lurking above the faucets. “S-stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

Her curiosity piqued, Akemi pressed herself closer to the crack to get a better look. She could see Pyre’s cracked reflection in the mirror—her soft cheeks trisected by jagged fissures of glass. She was scowling at herself. One hand pressed to the mirror, the other in a fist.

“I haven’t been useful enough. Eu deveria ter sabido. Eu terei que encontrar outra maneira.”

Akemi blinked, the words falling hot on her ears. Was that portuguese?

Despite never learning a word of the language in her life, she immediately knew what Pyre meant. Her brain effortlessly translated it.

“I should have known. I’ll have to find another way.”

Pyre’s limp fist fell from the mirror. She breathed in, then out, her eyes closing.

“Fique calma. Não seja óbvia.”

“Stay calm. Don’t be obvious.”

Eventually, after a few seconds of breathing, Pyre moved from the mirror, and wordlessly headed for the exit. The door swiped once, twice, until it finally closed.

Akemi let out a relieved breath.

Whatever she just witnessed, it felt a lot like leverage.

She knew two things now—one, that Pyre was probably from Brazil, or maybe Portugal—and two, that, like Akemi, she had a plan. A plan that had just become jeopardized.

But all she cares about is climbing to the top of the dumb guild hierarchy. What could possibly be getting in her way? Me? That seems doubtful. I’ve demonstrated just how much I don’t give a shit about climbing the corporate ladder. It has to be someone else in the guild. A competitor. Another teacher’s pet who was butting in between her and Nocturne.

That was her best guess, at least.

A question I’ll resolve another time. For now…

“[Deflect Mindshaping].”

Deflect Mindshaping Activated

For 1:00 hrs, all attempts (at or below Rank 8) to Influence or Read your thoughts will fail.

After casting the spell, and making sure no one heard her do it, she made her way back into the nave, trailing after Pyre as she headed to the same ultimate destination—the attic.

—

“Good. You’ve both made it.”

Nocturne had been waiting there, his back turned to them; his tall, looming figure was draped under the moonlight, painting him like a black silhouette.

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Pyre entered first, immediately kneeling in a show of obedience. She had her hair hidden again, tucked neatly under her hood. Despite her camouflaged appearance, Akemi could still feel the anxiety wafting off of her. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her nose scrunched up as she studied the floor.

Nocturne approached them, holding out his hand. It was curled in a fist. He opened it, lithe, gloved fingers delicately falling, and the golden sphereon lay inside.

Ka-ching. Akemi honestly hadn’t expected him to lead with the reward; she felt like a hollowed out turkey that was being fattened before the slaughter. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t gladly take the prize, grease and all.

“As promised,” he said, turning his eyes amusedly towards Akemi. “After all, you did superbly well. The billboards were in especially good taste.”

Akemi smirked. “Thank you,” she said, meaning it. Even if he was ultimately a conniving crook—she appreciated that he could recognize a well performed scam.

He tossed the gold sphereon to Akemi, who caught it. It immediately dematerialized in her hand, entering her inventory.

New funds acquired: 1,000 silvers

“My moles inside the current government tell me the Viscount has, ever conveniently, taken a small leave of absence. This was not something we orchestrated, but it works beautifully to our advantage,” he said. “Angered civilians are already banging at the doors of Grimguard manor. If tensions continue rising, this will blossom into the perfect opportunity for us to swoop in.”

“That’s fantastic news,” Pyre interjected. She had raised herself from her bow, now standing straight, her shoulders folded out like a soldier.

“That it is,” he said, and returned his wardrobe. His searching hands found another sphereon tucked in the drawers, and he tossed that one to Pyre. “One each, for both of you. In truth, I had only put away a single sphereon for this mission. I wasn’t expecting to see both of you back alive.”

Akemi gritted her teeth. How sweet.

Nocturne walked backwards, and then deposited himself lazily into the room’s only chair.

“So, tell me,” he said coldly, bringing a black glove to his face. “Did you find anything of interest in the Viscount’s room?”

Akemi didn’t have to look at his face to sense the distinct shift in mood. Even Pyre, still unaware, seemed to notice it. She studied the side of Akemi’s face like it was a painting—her eyes affixed on her cheek like a sunray.

I knew I wasn’t weaving some conspiracy theory. The thought had crossed her mind that she had extrapolated too far, but the way his eyes fell on her now casted that doubt away. He was indubitably after something. He wouldn’t have shown them that map before if he wasn’t.

“I did find something, yes,” Akemi responded after a moment. She had already decided to be forthcoming about as much as possible. It would make the lie harder to spot. “Lots of frilly sheets. Enough discount store perfume to make an old woman drop dead. Oh, and the ledger, of course.”

Nocturne remained silent, but his eyes gripped her like they were meaty fists, unrelenting.

Mindshaping Attempt; Blocked!

Her heart picked up, throbbing in her chest. It worked.

“And that’s all you found?” he said. His voice sounded unnaturally terse, frustrated.

“Well, I didn’t think much of it, but there was also this weird letter,” Akemi continued.

This admission brightened him considerably—he blinked, and his shoulders dropped.

Good. She wanted him to think the mindshaping rolls were the failure of luck, not a spell.

“From this guy babbling on about a… ritual, of sorts,” she continued. “A technique to get rich, fast. It sounded like a pyramid scheme to me. Some down-on-his-luck magister trying to rope the Viscount into a bad deal.”

Without turning around, Nocturne reached for something in the cabinet. His arm was able to bend unnaturally, as if he was shifting his very form. It re-emerged with a scroll.

“It seems my hunch was correct, then,” Nocturne said. “This letter, did it mention how to perform the ritual?”

Akemi could feel invisible fingers clenching around her temple, attempting to pry. It felt like her head was a chest, and a thief was thrusting his hand aggressively against the lock.

Mindshaping Attempt; Blocked!

She used all of her willpower to stifle a grin. This spell is paying off in spades.

“No,” she said. “But it mentioned where to find it.”

The prying fingers stilled. A beat of relief settled over her.

“Tell me,” Nocturne said, unusually quiet.

“I—” she paused. This was her opportunity. The one she had been rehearsing in her head. She needed a chance to look at the map again, so she couldn’t feed him the false one right away. “I can’t remember exactly. But I think it was written in that same language as the map—”

Nocturne stood before she could even finish her sentence, his cloak whisking upwards as he turned sharply toward the podium. He placed the scroll in his hand flat on the stone tablet, and it unfurled. Inside it was none other than the map from before.

That was easier than I thought it’d be.

“See if this jogs your memory,” he commanded, beckoning her with a finger. She obliged, and hovered over the parchment.

As her eyes gazed eagerly over the paper, she could feel his icy presence over her shoulder, like a massive icicle that threatened to puncture her straight through.

Mindshaping Attempt; Blocked!

It took several seconds, but she found it. The fjord. Her pulse picked up as she jotted down its location in her mind. It was far north of Grimguard, in a seemingly mountainous region, surrounded by something called a drotling enclave. She remembered hearing that somewhere, but she wasn’t sure where.

Nocturne talked tersely from above her. “Do you see it? Can you remember?”

“Y–yes. I think so. Maybe,” she said, and her eyes darted rapidly around the page. She wanted to pick out a location as far from the fjord as possible, to send him off-route. “Here.”

She pressed her finger to something called The Dragon’s Lung. It was located in the southwest of the Emberheart Plains. Since he couldn’t read the text, she translated for him.

“The Dragon’s Lung,” she said. “I remember it now. Has to be that one.”

As soon as the words escaped her lips, he leaned over and furled the map back into a scroll, taking it into his inventory. It was as if he didn’t want her eyes to lay on it for a second longer.

“I see,” he said, retreating. Time passed idly as he stared out the window again. “Good work, Akemi. It seems you two are fit for your next mission.”

Akemi’s stomach burned like acid, relief exploding against nerves.

It—it worked.