I had planned to spend the rest of the day after the masquerade in bed and recovering with Macaila and Cassiah. It certainly started out that way. Pushing away that sudden burst of suspicion I had about my friends being the sapphire thieves, I had helped Macaila and Cassiah consume the entire bottle of vodka. We joked, laughed, and talked as the alcohol worked its way through our systems. Cassiah fumbled around with the entertainment system and somehow activated the music part of it. Barefooted, Macaila and I danced around the front room. At the masquerade, there had always been eyes on me, judging me, and I had to behave within the perimeters of pomp and circumstance. In the confines of my room, with my friends, I abandoned that rigidity and did what my body felt like doing. It was liberating.

The late morning sun was already bleeding in through my curtains by the time Macaila and I found our way to my bed while Cassiah passed out on the couch. I didn't think I had anywhere to be that afternoon or evening and was already planning on ordering hamburgers and French fries to be sent to the room to cure our eventual hangovers. Macaila was leaving for Nicaragua tomorrow and would be gone for two weeks. Cassiah would be busy with his family. I wanted to spend as much time with them before those two weeks separated us.

Sebastien had other ideas, as was proven when Milo woke me up with his incessant knocking at the front door. I met him with my hair in a bird's nest around my head, mascara smeared underneath my eyes, my pajama shirt lopsided on my shoulders, and already feeling the hangover's thumping against my skull. To his credit, only a muscle twitched in his jaw as Milo's amused eyes took me in. He was quick about informing me I was to report to Sebastien's office within the hour.

I wanted to tell Milo that I wasn't going and felt like crap. I wasn't quick enough. Milo pivoted on his feet and rushed away before I could even generate a refusal.

It was tempting to just return to bed and see if Sebastien would attempt to send another person knocking at my door to see what the delay was. Seeing Macaila and Cassiah slumped over the furniture, their mouths wide open and Cassiah snoring, I decided against crawling back into bed. After all, it had the possibility of drawing Sebastien’s attention if I refused, and I felt the need to protect my friends against the man who wanted me to use them for one particular purpose. I quickly changed clothes, splashed water on my face, attempted to run a brush through my bird's nest of hair, and scribbled a note to Cass and Macaila about where I had gone.

Once outside, I swayed on my feet, a bit disorientated after seeing the late afternoon sun's rays striping the hallway. While it was a wonder I had almost slept the entire day away, my body complained that it needed more sleep. My walk was slow, my posture slouching, as I shuffled towards Sebastien's office, which was a couple of floors above the residence floor.

Milo was missing from his office when I arrived in the chancellor's corridor. I bypassed the secretary's desk and immediately went for the chancellor's door; I was too hungover to care about manners and decency. I wanted to get in there, see what the chancellor wanted so much he couldn't wait until tomorrow, and go back to sleep. I had knocked only once before the door opened, and the chancellor was there himself to greet me, as if he had been waiting for me to arrive. He took one look at me and commented, surprised, "I didn't think you had that much to drink last night." Fortunately, there was a teasing lilt to his voice that conveyed he was not disapproving of my behavior. I was astonished he had been paying that much attention to me in the first place. It had seemed like he had been focused on political maneuvering for the entire night.

My lips formed a scowl. "It was the after party that got me," I mumbled.

"I thought I saw you hide a bottle of vodka away." A smile graced Sebastien's face. "Come, I have something that will help you with that hangover."

Sebastien ushered me in. The unexpected meeting was not the only thing that would surprise me today. No, it was seeing Emerson seated at the seating area for four that had been arranged around a small square table. Blinking, I stared at the area. It seemed as if Sebastien could alter the area for whatever his needs were. Sebastien directed me to have a seat with Emerson while he went to his desk. My footsteps became weighted with more reluctance as I trudged to the seating area. Emerson greeted me like we were old friends. I was distracted by the sense that Emerson was not the only one there, that another chair was occupied.

Kyrian's full invisibility was intact again, and he was present.

Kyrian couldn't even wait until I had sat down in the chair before he confirmed his unwanted presence. "I see you're on your way to becoming the next scandal here." His animosity lingered in the air.

"If you had remained quiet, I could have pretended you weren't here, which would have been better for all of us," I shot back, not holding back my contempt for the seraph. To spite him more, I relaxed into my chair further.

"You two better table your attitudes because you're going to be working together," Sebastien criticized as he returned from his desk. He dropped small vial with an opaque light blue potion into my hand. Still smarting from Kyrian's comment, my fingers curled over the the vial. It momentarily distracted me from what Sebastien had just said. Perplexed, I analyzed its meaning. He had to be joking. He saw the tension between us last night and was only poking fun at it. Perhaps it was the calm before his pending diatribe.

"What do you mean by working together?" Kyrian's tone was laced with a dangerous edge.

Sebastien revealed no signs that he was intimidated. He sat down in the only available seat, which was adjacent to me. "Emerson and I have been working together for a very long time to establish the paradise promised to us.”

"Ill-advised." Kyrian mumbled.

The pounding in my head became unrelenting, and it didn't seem like this would be a short and easy discussion. I removed the vial’s cork, chucked the potion inside of my mouth, and swallowed it promptly.

"Up until a couple of weeks ago, we had the support from the daemeyri leaders."

"That's when the vampire lord was killed in Astraera," Emerson explained.

"We were negotiating for the Instruments of Korre."

"Never heard of them." Kyrian's curtness came across in his tone.

Yet, my own neurons erupted from the recognition of the name. I had heard of the Instruments of Korre before. I had been with Kyrian that first time, too, so he had just told a bold-faced lie. It had been when he had ravelled me to Elysium, where Emerson was hosting a conference with the daemeyri leaders. Emerson had told them he needed the instruments to bring this promised paradise into reach. Wondering if this was why Sebastien pulled me out of bed, I listened with more curiosity.

"The Instruments of Korre were forged by the mages many millennia ago," Sebastien explained. "Some legends have it that Aurora created them and distributed them to the fractions. It is said that the instruments are key to ushering in the paradise that the priestess promised. Both Emerson and I believe that the world is ready for this paradise, and it has undergone all the revolutionary and technological advances it needs to be mature enough for it."

My simple curiosity vanished under the wave of skepticism I felt. "Then why bother trying to unite and negotiate with the mortals now? It doesn't seem like they are needed if all you need are the instruments." I paused, taking a breath to organize my scrambled thoughts. "How? How do the instruments work?" I inquired. Sebastien gave me a look that showed he didn't understand what I was asking. "I mean, unless you are thinking about using them to remove the dissenters' free will to get them to agree to this one world propaganda, I don't see how else this would be possible."

"We are not removing anyone's free will." Sebastien peered at me with exasperation. "The instruments will give us the power to forge new worlds. The plan is to forge a new, united world, a utopia of sorts, and those who would like to live there will be allowed to migrate with us. The dissenters can just stay in this world. We will model the new world on this one."

My brow burrowed. "You're mimicking the old gods."

Sebastien nodded. "In a way. The instruments were scattered throughout the different daemeyri sects millenniums ago. We were working with the daemeyri leaders to retrieve the instruments. However, when the murder happened, the response was instantaneous: shuttered windows and locked doors. Now, they refuse to talk to Emerson and me."

"How about you solve the murder first and get them back on your side again, instead of going after this in a roundabout manner?" Kyrian drawled. I could imagine him exuding the appearance of a petulant child slouching in his seat with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Sebastien's eyes narrowed with murderous intent as he stared at the visibly empty seat in our circle. "What are you assuming is our plan, may I ask?"

"You want us to find the daemeyri and torture them until they cough up the instruments?" There was a joking facade to Kyrian's statement; I felt he was taking this seriously and meant what he had said. I wasn't even sure why they had invited him to this meeting. He was toxic and would attempt to disrupt any progress I made.

"Not torture. I think you are deliberately misunderstanding the assignment, Kyrian." Sebastien denied, his disapproval evident in his frown. Before continuing, Sebastien shifted in his seat. "I would like the two of you to locate and retrieve the remaining instruments. It may involve some stealth and undercover work, although you two could always go and try to negotiate face-to-face with them. They may talk to you once they are aware of who you two are. I'll leave it up to you as to whether you want to try negotiating again or go the stealth route. I trust that you, Kyrian, have a good idea as to which method would work best for each phylum.”

"Why?" My lips pressed together. "Why us?"

This time, it was Emerson who provided an explanation. "Besides your complementary strengths being one reason, the daemeyri are not familiar with the two of you. They may trust you more and give you their respective instruments if you can build a rapport with them." Emerson's expression remained neutral, a barrier to what his real thoughts were. There was more to why they thought Kyrian and I would succeed in this mission, more than what they were saying.

"I don't want to work with her." Kyrian sounded like an indignant child.

"And I don't want to work with him." I couldn't help myself—the retort slipped out of my mouth.

"Both of you have your respective strengths that complements the other's," Emerson argued.

Leaning forward in his seat, Sebastien added, "I know you want to deny what happened with last night's performance. You were evenly matched dancing, but the actual performance came out with the staffs. You two were moving at speeds comparable to professionals, and it was seamless. I know the two of you never rehearsed together. It was short of extraordinary."

"Maybe we had the same teacher," Kyrian muttered darkly.

"Unlikely," Sebastien denied. His forearms rested against his armrests. His index finger tapped against the arm. "As Briara’s teacher would not have been around when you were learning." I knew he was speaking about Galileo. "There's a connection between you two. If you two can capitalize on that connection, it will push you to extraordinary places."

Emerson was nodding. "Dare I say it reminds me quite a bit of the legendary zavi?"

The floorboards underneath the office's carpet croaked as Kyrian shot up. "Look, this is all a waste of time. I'm not accepting this assignment, no matter how much you try to decorate your words to make it sound like a good idea. Make me work the seam boundary again, I don't care. I'm not doing this." Without saying anything else, such as a farewell, Kyrian departed the office with Sebastien calling and Emerson snarling after him. Kyrian refused to listen, and the office door slammed in his wake. With another snarl, Emerson pushed himself up from the armchair and darted after Kyrian. There was another slam from the office door with Emerson's departure.

Alone with Sebastien, I focused on what had been said. "It was a test, just to see if we were compatible. The performance last night," I asked to confirm what I already knew was true.

"You could say that," Sebastien confirmed.

"And if we hadn't been compatible? What then? Were you going to assign this to Jay and me?" Sebastien looked at me like I had said something stupid. I went on. "Kyrian and I despise each other; we have since the first moment we met. He can't get over the massacres. He's never going to see the good in me. He only complied with the orders to break me out of jail because he thought he would be freed of his seraph duties if he did. He's not going to comply now that he knows the archangels lied to him," I explained.

Sebastien brought a hand up to cup his chin. "He doesn't hate you, Briara” was his response.

I fought against rolling my eyes and attempted to try another method. "I can work the assignment myself."

"Nonsense." Sebastien shook his head. "Emerson will get Kyrian to comply. He's just being difficult on purpose. You need Kyrian. He has more knowledge than you do about how these daemeyri fractions work." My upper lip twitched in skepticism. Sebastien changed the subject. "Do you think you can handle this on top of what I asked you to do with the Resistance? I know you are also training with Professor Leander. I feel like I am putting a lot on you."

"I can handle it," I said. It was the truth. Leander understandably didn't want me practicing without his supervision, and our private lessons were only three times a week. My assignment to infiltrate the Resistance depended on Macaila's and Cassiah's schedules, as they were the only people suspected of Resistance membership I had built a rapport with, and they were in school full time—plus the time they had to devote to homework. "Do I have to find all the instruments, or were you able to collect some before the daemeyri stopped working with you?" I inquired.

"I have some," he confided. Sebastien's mouth twitched with amusement as he played with the massive ruby ring on his finger. I immediately concluded that he had the mages' instrument. As one of the prominent mage leaders, he had to. "One of the ones I have in my possession was the sapphire you wore last night, which was the seraphim's contribution to the set."

I felt shocked over his level of trust with leaving such an instrument in my possession without any protection, and then dismay. "It was almost stolen last night!" I exclaimed.

"Almost," Sebastien agreed. "It was reckless of me to dangle it out there like that and expect no one to recognize it for what it was."

"Do you think it was the Resistance?"

"They knew the castle and city well enough to evade the soldiers who patrol it every night," Sebastien observed. I felt my stomach twist with more dismay. I was taunted by the memory of this morning and my realization that the thieves seemed familiar because they reminded me of my friends. I bit my lip; this was something I wanted to keep from Sebastien. Whether it was because I was protecting Cassiah and Macaila or just a logical objection considering I didn't have any proof to throw those accusations around, I wanted Sebastien to remain oblivious to my unwanted theories.

Not wanting to discuss this topic further, I changed it. "Are all the instruments jewels?"

"For the most part. They've been used as a part of a larger item to disguise their importance, like the necklace. However, the daemeyri each got a different instrument, a different jewel. Each phylum is quite secretive about their instrument, especially where it is, what it is. The instruments are legendary in the amount of power they carry by just themselves. Unite them, and apparently, it's a spectacle worthy of paradise. Unfortunately, that's going to add some difficulty for you in this task, especially if the daemeyri are not cooperating."

I sucked on my bottom lip. "Perhaps. You said the instruments are legendary. I can start out by doing some research in the library to see if I can find anything related to them, like maybe old stories recorded in anthologies and folklore. See if I can narrow it down to which fraction has which specific instrument, and what it could be disguised as. If it is a thing of pride for them, or if they lost the knowledge as to the fact that it is an instrument, knowing what to look for could be a good piece of information to have."

"The state library may have something," Sebastien confirmed. "If you need to go anywhere outside of the city, let me know. I can get Jay to accompany you to provide extra security until Kyrian comes around. Oh, and Briara, this probably doesn't need to be said, but this information is confidential."

* * *

The potion Sebastien gave me worked well enough that I found myself in the castle's library later that evening after I said my goodbyes to Macaila and Cassiah. The Master Librarian, Desirae, seemed surprised when I approached her with my research assignment, and she noticed the notepad and pen I carried with me. She guided me to the section where they kept the folklore, which was nearby the section Cassiah and I spent all afternoon flipping through old newspaper leaves. She helped me bring a couple of the books to a small square table situated on the edge of a study area. After telling me she would be at the front desk if I needed any further assistance, Desirae departed, leaving me alone on the third floor.

I chose a table that was out of the way of mainstream traffic near the central staircase. It put me right up against the stacks and gave me the opportunity to see the entire study area with its empty square tables and entrances to the numerous stacks on the third floor. The library had a recording of soft violins playing in the background; otherwise, the silence would have been unsettling. I settled into my seat and focused on navigating through the first book to see if there was any pertinent information in it. I set out hoping I would be there for a couple of hours, rifle through old poems and stories, and emerge with the answers I needed. Perhaps it was growing up with my mother and Galileo that influenced me to believe that the answers I needed could be found in a book.

Despite my lack of success that day, I returned to the library the next day. Feeling a bit of familiarity with the table I had sat at yesterday, I chose it again and dedicated the day's hours to flipping through the pages until a particular title or phase caught my eye.

Next to me, my notebook remained blank. I accrued random pieces of information. None of it would help me, though. Such as that the mages had their own women's suffrage movement in the 1500s, and by the end of the century, the first female chancellor had been elected to office. The mages had tried to merge with the mortals once before, which resulted in the Salem witch hunts. I went further back into the time of myths and legends and learned all about how the gods established Astraera. I learned about the Trident of Amavi and initially thought I had finally located something. I gathered all the books I could on the trident and dropped them on my table. It was hours' worth of a scavenger hunt as I researched it through the ages. My notebook became filled with notes. It was all for nothing, as I eventually discovered that the Astraera Museum had it in its vault.

That night, I left the closing library with frustration humming in my veins. Two days of research had yielded nothing except false leads. Instead of returning to my apartment after grabbing dinner, I left the castle. It was the end of the weekend, and everyone was still recovering from their midwinter celebrations. The streets were empty; no one gave me a second glance as I hurried past. A significant number of windows were dark, leaving me to wonder if it was a tradition for mages to vacation away from Astraera during the holiday. Fog lingered through the streets and over the canals. It created a dreary overcast over the city, as the lamppost illumination wasn't enough to vanquish the moodiness. It had rained while I had spent my day cooped up in the library, and there was still a slight drizzle. I wore my black coat and kept the hood up to shelter myself from the cold. My hands were stuffed into my pockets.

At first, I started walking without any idea where I was going. Then my pace accelerated. If I couldn't yet solve the mystery behind the instruments and pair them up with their respective daemeyri, there was one mystery I could investigate: the sunken castle and its possible library. No one would look for me tonight, no one would prevent me from diving into the sea—though I wasn't looking forward to that first initial shock of cold enveloping me after I jumped.

Excitement motivated me to get to the Sky Bridge quickly. Perspiration dotted my forehead by the time I reached the very spot the stranger had dived into the water from the bridge the night of the fireworks. By my estimation, it was near eleven in the evening. Scant lighting lined the bridge. With the fog, it was impossible to see into the depths of the bay. I tried to ignore the paranoia that erupted in my mind—who knew what type of creatures lurked in the dark depths? Was I chancing hypothermia for nothing? I climbed up to sit on the rail, my feet dangling over the bay. With one last look at the brightly illuminated castle mounted on the mountain, I jumped into the bay.

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The bay was piercingly arctic. That initial rush of water caused my subconscious to alarm. Immediately, my fingers felt like they were transforming into icicles and would never be warm again. Cold wrapped around my feet, drenching my socks and shoes. I ignored the terror. I kicked to the surface after the plunge, inhaled, got my bearings, and swam out to where I had last seen the stranger disappear. I had to use the buildings on the shore as a gauge; once I reached where I thought the point was, I treaded water until I dove headfirst into its depths.

The vast amount of water surrounded me in its pitch-black embrace. The knowledge that I did not have air readily available and I could suffocate while I was blind was almost enough to send me back up to the surface. Almost. I forced my eyes open and twisted around. My mouth almost opened, and I almost swallowed a mouthful of saltwater when I saw the outline of the sunken castle illuminated by an intrinsic light that had been invisible from above. More light surrounded the castle like a barrier. Just to my left, there was a brilliant bright human-sized circle in the middle of the barrier; it reminded me of a sphincter. I kicked my legs hard, rotated my arms, and propelled myself towards the hole. I only had to stick my hands inside of its opening to be sucked in.

I tumbled out on the other side and could barely execute a somersault to help with the inevitable fall into the castle's courtyard. I rose to my full height on shaky legs. Suddenly, I was not weightless in the water anymore, and gravity was in effect within the barrier. Breathing was possible. Magically, I was dry and warm again. As I regained my breath, I turned my attention onto the castle.

The portal was next to the sunken castle's grand entrance. My eyes had adjusted enough to observe the castle's details, as if it was daylight under the current illumination. Everything was there: the plots for an abundant garden, a grand ramp guiding me up to the tall brick wall that was probably put there for security, and the turrets bordering the wall. I could all too easily imagine soldiers posted at the top of them and walking along the battlements, there to protect the dynasty beyond the doors. Even though I didn't know who they were, I was overwhelmed with grief and compassion over their demise. Confusion smothered all my other feelings. There had been little about them or their demise in the history books I had reviewed in my past two days of research, reminding me that mentioning them in conversation was taboo.

The dynasty had been scorned from the pages of the history.

A chill plunged down my spine.

Swallowing, I was reminded that the strange man could be lurking in any of the shadows this strange place contained. I could have triggered some silent alarm when I had crossed through the portal.

I had never heard of the military conducting sweeps of this castle. I doubted they even knew it was its own living organism in the depths under the bay. The man would have been left alone here. My gaze swept the battlements as I walked up the elevated ramp—it too was made of the same cobblestone that lined the city's streets.

I reached the arched entry in the brick wall. The door was propped open with a random boulder, offering me entry to an enclosed courtyard. Several benches in various states of disrepair lined its perimeter. On the far side, a stone staircase ascended to a second level courtyard. I kept my head on a swivel as I walked. The loneliness and silence pressed against me. The lack of general noise was eerie and deafening. I expected the regular sounds buildings made, like the croak of a floorboard or rush of water in pipes. After years of being incarcerated with my nearest neighbor always eight feet away from me, I felt a bit unhinged. I was fearful of looking up and seeing the press of the sea yards above my head, dammed by some sort of magical air bubble.

The elevated courtyard was vacant as well. There, the castle's base wrapped around the courtyard in an n-shape. Its height lent an imposing and sinister feeling. It had once been painted white. Age and regular wear had tarnished the simplicity. The main part of the castle was taller than each of the wings and hosted several spires amongst its steepled roof. A staircase with three landings led up to the main entrance to the castle. Without further thought of who could be lurking in the windows and watching me, I took it to enter the castle.

A great hall waited on the other side of the entry doors. Lighting illuminated the interior, and my eyes didn't have to strain in the dark. While the exterior was bland with its frayed white walls and broken cobblestone, the heavily detailed interior architecture was in a better state. Warm amber materials were used in its construction, and together with the glow of the illumination, the castle presented a pleasantly cozy feeling. Wooden, large-framed paintings of landscapes hung on the walls. Comfortable looking chairs were put together to create seating areas in the wide hallways. One room flowed into the other with no sign of an end. Small staircases appeared unexpectedly and elevated me to another level. Soon, I couldn't tell if I was still in the main part of the castle or if I had wandered into one of the wings. Rows of diamond chandeliers hung above my head. To my astonishment, every light was functioning and glittering. Beyond the chandeliers, I could see full murals decorating the ceilings. I wandered through ever-flowing hallways and rooms, some of which I could hear the haunted memory of swishes from women's bulky skirts as they danced.

I soon stumbled upon personal chambers. They were untouched. From the grandeur of the furniture, like gigantic beds and marble bathtubs, and the quality of the bed linens and clothes in the closet, I knew I was lurking in the dynasty's chambers. The queen and king's chamber was decorated classically with roses. Vases of artificial red and white roses were neatly arranged throughout the gigantic room. On the king's side of the chamber, there was a little hint of personality in the framed photograph of whom I assumed was the king himself standing with a caelsphaera team. Their uniforms were a bold orange, and one player was thrusting a magnificent trophy above his head. Next to this framed photograph was a smaller one. It was about the size of my hand and featured four little girls. The eldest one pictured could not have been more than six or seven when the picture was captured. The girls had long, dark hair. The eldest cradled a plump infant cradled in her arms. The girls had to be his daughters, the princesses. Were they amongst the assassinated? I wondered.

A shared side table hosted the king's and queen's crowns. The king's reminded me of Asiasi's crown. It was an art masterpiece consisting of interwoven silver and gold wires. The queen's tiara was silver and featured a solid amethyst stone as its centerpiece. Small lines of diamonds followed the headpiece's structure. The crowns appeared untouched. The castle must have drowned soon after Konstantinos sent his men to assassinate the king's family, or else the crowns would have been stolen by now.

My feet took me through what I assumed were the princesses' chambers. I tried to match each room to one of the faces in the king's photograph. It was challenging. The photo was perhaps half a century old, putting the princesses in their fifties when the assassinations had occurred. Each room seemed to reflect the respective princess's adult personality. One was a hoarder, although someone had tried to organize her belongings. Another one still had her name running across the wall in big bold letters, Leia, and was dedicated to the woman's obsession with the color blue and seashells. Another had transformed her room into a library; I had to navigate around towers of fiction. I found the last sister's room at the end of the hallway. It looked barely lived in. It contained only the minimal necessities. With one exception. Left on her dresser's corner, there was a silver ring with three rectangular diamonds. It reminded me of a modest wedding ring.

On the same floor as the bedrooms, there was a private dining chamber. The interior decorating was kept to a minimum. There were exposed and stained wooden beams and pillars forming two columns on either side of the room. A stained oak table sat in the middle of the two columns. Eight chairs were pushed in around the table. A single jeweled goblet was positioned before the head seat, as if the king had spent some time here alone. Perhaps contemplating his pending demise. Fortunately, there weren't any signs of the brutality rumored to have had occurred here. Someone had cleaned up the bloodshed in the decades since.

A stone fireplace was the focal point on the far side of the room. Cushions lounged against the stone platform before the fireplace. Two loveseats faced the fireplace at an angle.

The portraits hanging on the walls throughout the dining chamber caught my interest. The portrait subjects all bore some resemblance to one another. I was looking at a family tree hierarchy, complete with several preceding kings and queens. The portraits that hovered alongside the table were of the last dynasty to live in the castle, with the last reigning king and queen in the middle. The queen was wearing the same tiara I had seen in her bedroom. If I looked closely, I could see the resemblance of the three young women featured in the portraits to the photograph of the children that was on the king's dresser. I scanned the room for another portrait featuring the last daughter. Her likeness was missing in the informal dining room. Frowning, I wondered where the last daughter's portrait was.

"The king used to host family dinners here every Sunday night," a masculine voice informed from behind me. I whirled around as my heart launched into my throat. My body became rigid with the intention to fight. A man I had never seen before leaned against the doorframe of a room I had yet to explore with his hands shoved in his pockets. I knew he was attempting to make himself seem less threatening and imposing as he could as to not frighten me away. "It was the only time he could secure to spend time with his family during the week, so attendance was important to him. He was raised with strong family values."

I hesitated before I approached the table. My fingers hovered against the smooth edge of the table. I gazed at him with interest. The man's build was like what I remembered of the stranger's before he jumped into the sea. He had a narrow face that featured facial hair in the form of a goatee. It was obvious that he did not suffer from hair loss often seen in middle-aged men because he had a full head of dark hair that was carefully pushed back and away from his face. "If he had strong family values, then where's the last daughter's portrait?" I challenged.

The man appeared stunned by my blunt observation, although he quickly recovered. "You are quite perceptive," he observed. I half-shrugged, still waiting for my answer. "He took it down when he disowned her."

"Did she murder someone?" I challenged.

"No." The man shook his head. My stare was unrelenting. "The king believed she committed treason."

"Did she?"

"Yes." The man straightened from leaning against the doorframe. He took a couple of steps into the dining room. I kept the table in between us. "She was strong-willed and had her own political objectives that she wanted to implement. Barely past her eighteenth birthday, she believed she had all the answers and was determined to change the world."

"You make her sound like she was disillusioned."

The man shrugged. Deciding it was better than arguing with me, he changed the subject. "Who are you?" The question disorientated me a little. The intelligence radiating from the man made me assume he already knew who I was, that he knew who everyone was. That he hadn't come at me with magic was a sign that he hadn't classified me as a threat.

Tilting my head carefully, I answered, "Briara Disraeli." I fully expected for the man's eyes to remain clueless at the foreign name and was surprised when I saw recognition contaminate his gaze. "Who are you?" I shot back at him.

"Metternich." Metternich answered smoothly. I felt a flare of disappointment. The name meant nothing to me. "How did you get down here?"

"I watched you jump off the bridge that night after we followed the random fireworks down to the bay."

"That was months ago," Metternich said.

"It was a curiosity I couldn't let go of, and I finally found time to look into it," I declared. "You set off those fireworks."

Metternich nodded. "I did."

"Why?"

"You'll find out soon, I'm sure."

"What do you mean by that? Are you a part of the Resistance?"

Metternich shifted on his feet, suddenly uneasy. "If I was, would you turn me in so they could publicly execute me?" His blatant question gave me pause. It wasn't exactly a confession linking him to the Resistance.

"If you are, then why are you not attacking me? Trying to lock me up so I don't go and tell the chancellor of your whereabouts? I'm sure he would love to know that someone is squatting in the dynasty's castle." I challenged.

A smile crept up on Metternich's face as he searched my face. It felt like we were in a chess match, each of us attempting to gather as much information as we could. I wasn't sure if I liked it; it certainly put me on edge. His eyes penetrated my soul. "You're not going to tell good ol' Sebastien about meeting me," he asserted. "You're far too intrigued. There's a part of you that is wondering if the Resistance is correct in their rebellion. You came into Astraera when political parties were already established in their position of power. How do you know the monster didn't take control of Astraera, that the monster is not wearing the mask of the chancellor or one of those in the Senate who rule beside him? Your mother ran away from this world when she realized she was pregnant with you and never even attempted to return. You still have doubts which side is evil incarnate."

I clammed up. He knew more about me and who my mother was than I expected. He could read my most private thoughts. Since this was a world built upon the foundation of magic, and I had barely touched the surface of what magic could do, I didn't feel lame as I asked, "Are you a mind reader?"

Metternich chuckled. "Not quite. We shall meet again, and we'll talk more. It's growing late, and the chancellor is bound to be wondering about your disappearance. You should return before he sends the entire military out searching for you." Down by his side, Metternich's hands were moving in a circular motion with his fingers, smoothly moving up and down as if he was playing a piano. Mist appeared and covered his form. It swallowed him and he disappeared. I was alone in the castle once more, a silent objection lingering on my lips.

Metternich was proven correct when I arrived back at the Sistine Castle. The guards manning the castle's perimeter took notice of me as I walked through the gate, and although they were not obvious about it, they quickly notified some higher power of my return. Had Sebastien been that concerned about my disappearance for what was at most a couple of hours? If so, that was insanity. He knew about my friendship with Cassiah and Macaila, though Macaila was gone. This wasn't the first time I had returned to the castle late. Yet, no one said anything, not as I walked back to my apartment or in the morning when Sebastien called me into his office to ask me about my progress on my assignments. The chancellor was not too thrilled to hear that my progress was minimal.

The rest of winter break passed without significant importance. My days fell into routine as I devoted as much time as I could to researching the instruments in the library. By the end of winter break, I still had nothing to show for my time, and I was only half-heartedly focused on the research. It became more of an act of desperation and defiance. I wanted to prove that I could do this without Kyrian, who hadn't tried to work with me. I hadn't seen him since he had stormed out of Sebastien's office so dramatically. Most of my hours then were spent dawdling aimlessly from one shelf to the next, from one floor to the next in the state library. I grabbed whatever book caught my eye, stood in the middle of the stacks, and flipped aimlessly through its pages to see if the book interested me further. Most of them didn't.

Metternich never defined when he would see me again. I paid more attention to the people around me when Jay took me out into the city for our 'date', almost expecting that the man would appear in the shadows at the restaurant. Afterwards, I felt horrible, as most of my attention hadn't been on Jay as it should have been.

During the date, Jay transformed into a disciplined gentleman. He pulled out my chair for me; he poured wine into my glass whenever it was nearing on empty; he walked closest to the cobblestone street or put himself in between suspicious people and me. Yet, he was preoccupied with something. There was a subdued manner about him, and it almost made him seem more mature. We walked to his chosen restaurant in relative silence because of it, and since I had started to distance myself from him over my suspicion of his sudden desire to be around me and because of the way he had 'comforted' me after the Beijing Massacre, I didn't initiate conversation. I still felt violated from the way he had used me on that bathroom floor. Since he was still my friend, I also felt obligated to accept his dinner invitation.

To my surprise and delight, he stayed clear of Hellions and Halos. Instead, he took me to an upscale steakhouse in the fifth ring. Over coffee-encrusted steak, twice-baked potatoes, and broccoli, I learned exactly what was on Jay's mind. He was leaving in the morning for a two-month messenger assignment. While he wouldn't reveal exactly where he was going, I was able to needle him enough to get him to tell me that the military had a secluded compound near the mage prison, Caligo. His team would be deployed at the compound for those two months. He described it as hopeless, as if there was a cloud of depression lingering over the entire compound. He refused to tell me anything else.

Instead, he refocused the conversation on someone I would have preferred we didn't talk about: Kyrian. Calais no longer had to shoulder the burden of Jay's unwarranted jealousy, and for five-rant-filled minutes, Jay insulted Kyrian. Mostly, it was about how he was invisible. Jay thought it was by choice, and how despicable and fraudulent it was. "I mean, how hideous do you have to be to hide behind an invisibility shield?" Jay laughed as he finished guzzling his fourth glass of merlot. I couldn't get a word in to explain about Adriana's curse. I was surprised that I wanted to defend the seraph.

When he partook in his self-scheduled dose of Ambrosia, he did so after I had excused myself to use the bathroom, when he thought I was out of sight. He seemed so on edge from his assignment that I couldn't even be furious at him. At the end of the date, he escorted me back to my apartment. There was an eager look in his eyes, like he wanted an invitation inside. He thought he would be able to lose himself in me and forget all about his departure to Caligo. I didn't give him one and pretended to be oblivious. My apartment door shut in his disappointed face.

I just didn't have the energy to honor his needs. I knew full well that he would get them attended to at Hellions. Still, I walked to the full-length mirror in my bedroom and stared at my saddened reflection. I had really tried. I had donned a dark green dress with minimal sparkles that had long sleeves and a mid-thigh hemline. I had straightened my hair, applied makeup. The necklace Hawk gifted me for my birthday hung around my neck. Yet, my heart was not in it. I was too broken, too damaged, to be anything worthwhile for Jay. I wished he would recognize that.

It was too early in the night to go to bed. With winter break ending in the next couple of days, I felt I needed to do something unusual. I had left the ketamine pills Sebastien had given me for my birthday on my dresser. The little black bag they were in was discreet enough I didn't fear that someone would snoop in it. With Macaila and my classes returning, I didn't know when the next time would be when I could use them. Now was the most opportune time.

I swallowed all three pills and laid back on my bed, waiting for the pills to take effect. That familiar wave washed over me, and I gave myself over to the blissful unconsciousness, already constructing a simple world.

* * *

The illusion sprung to life in the sanctuary, exactly as I had imagined it. A black sand beach stretched for half of a mile between two prominent rock formations. The contrast of the sand with the turquoise sea was breathtaking. One rock formation featured a natural arch at its summit, probably formed from the rushing sea a very long time ago. Both formations towered over me. It gave off an aura of being in a canyon. The confined space made me feel safer. A glance out at the ocean confirmed it was vacant. The sky was a pastel blue with only a scattering of distant fluffy clouds.

"It's been months," a masculine voice commented behind me. I spun around. My heart fluttered in my chest at the sight of Hawk standing just a yard behind me. I could barely breathe from the sight of him. I knew I had missed him, but I hadn't allowed myself to comprehend how much. "I started to believe that you had moved on with your life, that you had forgotten about this place." His tone was light, if somewhat teasing. His face was void of any facial expression. His hands were open and relaxed at his sides. The only area where he was not able to hide his inner tension was his shoulders. They were stiff.

"I could never forget about this place," I confided. I could never forget about you. I wiped my hands on my dress.

Only one side of Hawk's lips quirked up into a smile. "I'm happy to see you're wearing your birthday gift."

My hands flew up to grab my necklace. "Why? Why did you send it?"

"I thought you could find it useful. I thought you moved on, and I wanted you to have something from the sanctuary. Besides, where I come from, it is tradition to give someone a gift for her birthday." I stared at him. He did have a point. The necklace was something I had been wearing for the past three years every time I had ventured to this magical place. It had been around my neck the first time I had ever ventured to the sanctuary. I had been charmed by its simplicity the moment I had seen it. To have it in my actual reality... it was already one of my most cherished possessions.

"Thank you," I whispered. Suddenly apprehensive, I said, "I haven't gotten a gift for three years. So, thank you. You don't know how much it meant to me, especially since I haven't been able to get back here for months. I swear it wasn't because something better came along, and I just forgot about you."

Emotion flickered across Hawk's eyes. He batted it down, and instead, he slowly approached me until he stood directly in front of me. "You want to know another tradition?" he questioned coyly. Slowly, we were falling back into our old familiarity.

"What?" I asked against the dryness saturating my mouth.

"Everyone has to dance with the birthday girl." He put his arms up and waited.

I laughed. "But my birthday was two weeks ago."

"Then we need to have an extra-long dance to make up for the delay." His eyebrows wiggled when I didn't immediately step into his open embrace. "Are you afraid?"

"Never!" I was still laughing when Hawk lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me. Mine had barely settled onto him before he started to waltz us around the black sand beach. The joviality that had been present prior to our dance faded into solemnness. I was able to manipulate the sanctuary into producing music, which echoed in between the canyon walls.

Just like his defense maneuvers, Hawk's dancing was graceful. I felt comfortable and relaxed in his arms as he whirled me around and dipped me in time with the music. The warm press of his body against my skin activated a region in me I never believed would be alive again. I could feel his breath against my neck and his stable arm against my back. When our gazes connected, the intensity was almost too much. My skin became flushed from the brisk twirls and movement. My heartbeat seemed uncontrollable. It was bliss, though, and I could feel myself letting go of my responsibilities, all my control.

The environment around us started to change. The blue skies were transformed by dark rain clouds. Raindrop pellets soon splashed against my skin and drenched my hair. Lightning strikes erupted over the ocean. My skin was bristling from the static electricity in the surrounding air. Two lightning bolts struck the rock formations' vegetation, causing wildfires to erupt around us. The ocean's tide grew until its inward push sent waves over our bare feet. As if there was a hurricane out at sea, the waters escalated to the point that the waves were crashing in and soaking my dress from the knee down. The wind tossed my split butterfly sleeves and the dress's hem around. It messed up Hawk's hair. Still, Hawk and I refused to let the other go, refused to stop our dance. There was an unexplained emotion between us. Through the years of friendship and companionship, of that intimacy, I had started to lust for him. I wanted those hands brushing against my bare skin to remove my dress. I wanted those lips to caress my neck, and then leave a trail of kisses down my body. I wanted to clench my fingers into his hair as our lips were locked and dueling. I wanted to sit on him and feel him press against me.

My magic exploded around us.

It was inevitable that the demons impeded upon this bliss. Soon, all I could think about was wondering how I would ever kill him. If he was the praesidium, then it needed to be done. It was his death against a million that lurked in the shadows of the future. I was controlling my magic within the sanctuary's confines. For whatever reason, that didn't transfer over to the real world. If what Sebastien said was true, I had to kill him.

My heart ached. I released a half sob.

I didn't think I could do it.

"What are you thinking about?" I could barely hear Hawk against the wind blowing into my ear. His hand moved from my shoulder to run his fingers through my hair.

"Killing you."

I didn't know what made me utter those words and didn't have the time to contemplate why I had told him that. Perhaps it was because by now, I considered him as an extension of me, an extension of my soul. Even though I hadn't confided everything to him, he knew me better than anyone else. It didn't matter as I found myself on my back, staring straight up at Hawk, who was mounted over me. His strong thighs were clamped down against my arms and legs. His hands were pressed against my shoulders. I knew it was senseless to struggle against him. I could feel the grainy sand biting into my back. Raindrops splattered onto my face. The black clouds silhouetted him. The rush of the tide crashed into my side. We were far enough inshore that it didn't smother me. I wondered how long that would last. I wondered if he would hold me down until the saltwater suffocated me. It was already soaking my dress.

"Why would you want to do that?" he asked, his voice toneless. Controlled. The barriers had crashed down to protect his soul.

"You're my praesidium," I whispered.

It was all I had to say. Hawk immediately understood what that meant. It was in the way his jaw clenched as his teeth grounded together. His fingers dug into my shoulders. "You need to go. Now," he growled. "Don't ever come back."

I didn't argue with him. I returned to reality and collapsed on my bedroom floor. I didn't attempt to rise from it for many hours afterwards.