"Alright then. But don't say I didn't warn you." Marek sighed, settling back in his chair. "It was bad, lad. Real bad. The younger inquisitor, he went in cocky. Thought he could take her, even with her being a Level 7. The older fella had to run in and save the brat."

Kiel's heart sank. "They...they weren’t a match for her?"

"Aye. They failed, and it cost them, dearly." Marek shook his head. "My people saw them after, staggering out of the Narthic Quarter. Barely alive, from the looks of it. Covered in blood, clutching their wounds...it was a sorry sight."

Light above. Kiel closed his eyes. If two trained Inquisitors couldn't stop her...what chance do I have?

"There's something else, lad,” Marek continued, his eyes narrowing slightly. “My people saw two others fleeing the scene as well. A young man and a kid, looking mighty spooked. Wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Kiel's heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face neutral. "Can't say that I do," he replied. "Lots of folks running scared these days, with a [Sacrificer] on the loose."

Marek grunted, clearly unconvinced. "Right. Well, just thought I'd mention it. Funny coincidence, that."

Kiel ignored the pointed look, pressing on. "What about the [Sacrificer]? What happened to her?”

Marek barked a harsh laugh, seemingly willing to play along for now. "Her? She's still out there, lad. But..."

He hesitated. Kiel leaned forward, his heart in his throat. "But what?"

"But she's hurting," Marek said slowly. "Has to be. No one's seen her since the battle, not hide nor hair. And there's been no new disappearances, no bodies turning up like before."

She's recovering, then. Licking her wounds.

The thought sent a chill down Kiel's spine. A wounded beast was often the most dangerous. And a [Sacrificer]... "They heal fast, don't they?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. "By [Sacrificing] others."

"Aye," Marek nodded. "Give her a few more days, a few more victims...she'll be back to full strength before you know it. And then..."

He didn't need to finish. Kiel could fill in the rest. And then she'll come for Dot again. For me.

He couldn't let that happen. But what could he do? Where could he turn? The Inquisitors had failed. His own skills, so carefully hoarded and hidden all these years...would they be enough?

You've never been a fighter, Kiel, a small voice whispered. Running and hiding, that's always been more your style. Maybe it's time to cut your losses. Leave the kid, save yourself. No one would blame you.

Kiel clenched his jaw, shoving the voice down. No. He couldn't do that. Wouldn't do that. Dot was his responsibility, his...his brother, in all the ways that mattered. He'd promised to protect the kid.

And a promise was all he had left.

"Do you know where she is?" Kiel asked abruptly. "The [Sacrificer]? Have your people found her lair?"

Marek's eyes narrowed, a mix of suspicion and concern flickering across his face. "Now why would you be so interested in that, lad? You're not thinking of doing anything stupid, are you? You've been awfully interested in this [Heretic], even trying to hire little old me to assassinate her..."

Kiel hesitated, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed, deciding the truth might be his best bet. It was likely Marek already knew anyway. "She... she kidnapped Dot. I got him back, but I need to make sure we're safe. That she won't come for him again."

Marek leaned back, sighing. "Light above, lad. You've gotten yourself into quite the mess, haven't you?" He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What did you two do to catch the attention of a Level 7 [Sacrificer]?"

Kiel shrugged, frustration evident in his voice. "I wish I knew. We're nobody special - just a street kid and a pharmacist's apprentice. But she seemed... fixated on Dot. Called him her 'precious key' or some nonsense."

The fence's eyebrows shot up at that, but he didn't comment further. Instead, he shook his head. "No, lad. My people haven't found her lair. And I've told them not to look, either."

Kiel frowned. "What? Why?"

Marek gave him a flat look. "Because I'm not stupid, lad. A Level 7 [Sacrificer]? She'd tear through my people like wet parchment. It'd be sending sheep to the slaughter."

He's not wrong, a voice whispered in Kiel's mind. You saw what she did to Vian. What she almost did to Dot. How exactly do you plan to beat something like that?

He pushed the voice away again. He couldn't think like that. Couldn't afford to. Dot was depending on him.

"Fine," he said shortly. "I'll find her myself, then." He turned for the door, his mind already racing ahead.

"Kiel." Marek's voice stopped him. He looked back, surprised by the seriousness in the fence's tone. "Don't be an idiot, lad. You go after her alone, you're only going to end up dead. Or worse."

Kiel's lips twisted bitterly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Marek sighed. "I'm not saying this to hurt your pride, lad. I'm saying it because, Light help me, I don't want to see you get killed. Irritating as you are, I've grown rather fond of you."

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Kiel stared at him, feeling wrong-footed. Marek, fond of him? The old bastard had a funny way of showing it, gouging him for every copper he could.

Maybe that's just his way, a small voice whispered. Maybe he's been looking out for you, in his own twisted fashion. Teaching you how to survive in this cutthroat world.

He shook the thought away. He couldn't afford to get sentimental, not now. Marek was a means to an end, nothing more.

"I have to do something," he said stubbornly. "I can't just sit around and wait for her to come for us."

The fence eyed him for a long moment, then threw up his hands. "Stubborn fool. Fine, go and get yourself killed. But don't come crying to me when it all goes to hell."

Kiel's jaw tightened. "I won't. Because I'm going to stop her, Marek. One way or the other, I'm going to end this."

He turned away again, heading for the door.

"Oh, and Kiel?" Marek's voice reached him, faintly mocking. "Do try not to die, yeah? Corpses make for terrible paying customers."

Kiel didn't bother to reply, slamming the door and walking away.

Stingy old bastard, he thought grimly. For someone who is at least a Level 10, you'd think he could afford a little generosity now and then.

But that was Marek, wasn't it? A skinflint to the bone, forever squeezing and grasping for every bit of coin and advantage. It was what made him so damned dangerous.

Kiel hunched his shoulders as his thoughts shifted to keeping Dot safe, it felt like an impossible task.

I have to try.

And he would. He had Skills of his own, didn't he? Maybe it was time to stop running from what he was. Time to embrace it, harness it. Use it for something good, for once.

Running into danger went against every instinct he had. But what choice did he have? He couldn't leave Dot to face this alone. Couldn't abandon the kid, not when the boy trusted him so completely.

With grim determination, Kiel set off down the street, his mind already racing ahead. He had preparations to make, information to gather. Skills to steal, potions to brew.

It was time to stop running. Time to turn and fight.

I'm coming for you, [Sacrificer] he vowed silently. You picked the wrong kid to mess with. And now...now you're going to pay.

He just hoped it wouldn't cost him everything in the process. His freedom, his sanity...

His soul.

Whatever it takes, he reminded himself fiercely. For Dot. For my brother.

He could only pray it would be enough.

***

Dot lay curled on the little bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. The thin blanket did little to ward off the chill seeping from the damp stone walls. He shivered, pulling it tighter around his shoulders.

Across the room, Kiel slept on the floor, his breathing slow and even. How could he be so calm? After everything that had happened, everything they'd learned today...

Dot squeezed his eyes shut, but the memories came anyway. Kiel had come back from his meeting with Marek, his face dark.

"The Inquisitors failed," he'd said, his voice heavy. "The [Sacrificer]...she's still alive. Injured, but alive."

Dot's chest tightened, a cold fist of fear squeezing his heart. He'd thought...he'd hoped...

But no. He'd been naive. Stupid. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. The bad guys never just went away, not in real life.

I should've known better. Should've been smarter. If I was like Kiel...if I was brave like him...

Tears stung his eyes. He blinked them away furiously. Crying wouldn't help. Wouldn't change anything.

We're just a kid and a pharmacist's apprentice, he thought bleakly. We're in way over our heads.

He glanced at Kiel again, at the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest. A sudden, desperate urge seized him. To shake Kiel awake, to beg him for answers, for reassurance.

Tell me it's going to be okay. Tell me you have a plan. Tell me...tell me I'm not putting you in danger, just by being here...

But he couldn't. Couldn't put that on Kiel, not after everything his brother had already done for him. The risks he'd taken, the sacrifices he'd made.

Kiel mumbled something in his sleep, his brow furrowing. Dot froze, hardly daring to breathe. But Kiel didn't wake, just shifted and settled again.

Dot let out a slow breath. His gaze traced Kiel's face, the worry lines carved deep even in sleep.

It's my fault. I'm the reason he's in this mess. The heretic...she's after me, not him. If I wasn't here...if I left...

The thought crept in, insidious and tempting. He could do it. Slip away into the night, draw the [Sacrificer] off Kiel's trail. Let his brother have a chance at a normal life again.

It would be easy. Just a few quiet steps, and he'd be gone. Kiel would be sad, but he'd understand. He'd be relieved, even, not to have Dot weighing him down anymore.

No!

Dot shook his head as though he could physically dislodge the awful idea.

"I can't," he whispered to himself. "I won't. Kiel...Kiel needs me. We're a team."

The words rang hollow in the stillness. Who was he kidding? Kiel didn't need him. Kiel was the strong one, the smart one. Dot was just a street rat playing at being a hero.

But...but Kiel wanted him here. He'd said so, over and over. Insisted on it, even when Dot had tried to push him away.

"We stick together," Kiel had said fiercely, gripping Dot's shoulders. "No matter what. You're my brother, Dot. In all the ways that count. I'm not leaving you."

Dot clung to the memory of those words now. Kiel believed in him. Trusted him. He couldn't betray that, not for anything.

Even if a small, treacherous part of him whispered that Kiel would be safer without him.

He rolled over, burying his face in the thin pillow. Enough. He was being stupid. Kiel had a plan. Kiel always had a plan.

He's not telling me everything, though. He's holding back. But why?

It gnawed at him, that growing certainty. Kiel was hiding something. Something about himself, his abilities. Dot had seen too much to believe his brother was just a simple [Pharmacist].

The way Kiel had fought that [Feral], the [Command] skill, the superhuman movements, the ability to detect danger...those weren't Skills any apprentice would have.

Kiel was strong. Stronger than he let on. But he was afraid, too. Afraid of...what? What others would think of him, if they knew the truth?

Why can't you trust me? I wouldn't care what class you are, what Skills you have. You're my brother. That's all that matters.

But he couldn't say that. Couldn't push, not now. Kiel had his reasons. He always did.

Dot would just have to trust him. Trust that when the time was right, Kiel would open up. Would share his secrets, his burdens.

Until then...until then, Dot would be there. Would stand by Kiel's side, no matter what came. They were a team, and that was final.

He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing thoughts. He needed sleep. Needed to be sharp, ready for whatever tomorrow brought.

But as he closed his eyes, the memories came creeping back. Stone walls, glowing with eldritch sigils. The stench of blood and incense. A woman's mad laughter, and pain, pain, unending pain...

Dot shuddered, curling tighter into himself. Every time he slept, he was back there. Back in that chamber, helpless and afraid.

The dreams were so vivid, so real. He could feel the cold stone beneath him, the chains biting into his flesh. Could hear his own screams echoing off the walls.

And her voice, crooning and cruel, whispering secrets. Terrible secrets, full of blood and darkness.

"My treasure," she'd called him, even as she raised the ritual knife. "My precious key..."

Dot didn't know what she'd meant. Didn't want to know. But the words haunted him, lingering like a curse.

What did she do to me? What did she see in me, that made her want me so badly?

Questions without answers. Or maybe...maybe he was afraid of the answers. Afraid of what they would mean.