“This suit is uncomfortable,” said Friedrich, adjusting himself as he walked up the path towards Akatfall Castle. “I can’t wait to burn it once we’ve apprehended The Butcher.”

“I think you look handsome,” said Marina, locking arms with him. “Now shush, we need to look regal.”

Friedrich was dressed in a long red shirt with a puffy white cravat, behind which he hid both his fox and minotaur masks. He was covered in a black coat that ran down to his knees, the hems of which were trimmed with an ornate golden pattern. He had even gone as far as to get black leather gloves as gloves seemed to be in fashion among the Mercian nobles that he and Marina had glimpsed in Akatfall.

Marina, meanwhile, was wearing a baby blue ballgown of velvet and silk. It too was lined with gold, but the gold was much more pronounced than Friedrich’s. Even the lace that bound her corset was a shining gold that glistened in the light of the sunset. Her ample, yet typically well-covered, chest was only enhanced by the dress, which caught the attention of many of the men who laid eyes upon her. Draped over her shoulders and curled around her arms was a white, silk shawl that was so fine that it was like a pearl.

The two walked towards the grand staircase built into the hill along with many others. The horses and carriages carrying dozens of guests stopped and they all joined the dispersed crowd as they made their way towards the castle, all the while servants stood lining the steps without moving a single muscle.

“Remember the plan,” Friedrich said.

“We left our invitations behind,” said Marina.

They had talked over how they planned to infiltrate the ball many times over, coming up with plans both wild and simple. Their first effort would be to pretend that they had left forgotten their invitations in the hopes that their high-class attire would be persuasive enough. Failing that, they were going to sneak around the back and climb through a window.

As they approached the door, a steward was surveying people and waving those who presented invitations on through. A couple of people before Friedrich and Marina did not have invitations, but upon a wave of the steward’s hands, they were admitted. What was going on? Friedrich started to feel nervous.

“Invitations,” said the steward.

“We left them at home,” said Marina, her voice trembling a little.

The steward sighed. “No matter. If you are of noble blood, you will be permitted entry.”

He held up his hands as he had done to others before and weaved a subtle spell. Both Friedrich and Marina felt themselves being read by the steward’s spell. It was an odd feeling, as though a soft breeze was blowing through their veins.

“You may pass,” said the steward and the two walked on inside.

“Noble blood?” asked Friedrich once he and Marina were out of earshot of the steward.

“It must be a mistake,” said Marina with a shrug. “A defective spell.”

Friedrich knew that the spell was not defective, for he himself was of noble blood. Marina had been admitted too, which meant that she was also a noble; for whatever reason, she was lying to him.

“Yes, it mustn’t have worked,” he muttered.

The two followed the crowd up a grand set of stairs, through a beautiful archway and into a large chamber. The walls and ceiling were of white and covered in ornate golden patterns that glowed warmly from the light of the crystal chandelier in the centre of the ceiling and the shining crystals that hung halfway up the walls. The wooden floor was so polished that there was not a single scratch to be found, yet it was not slippery. Friedrich dreaded the idea of dancing and would far rather have stomped around as a minotaur.

At the far end of the room was a large table where many of the highest class of nobles in the city sat. Right at the centre was a man who could only have been Lord Buckstone himself. He was old, but not frail, his grey hair kept neatly in place by a golden circlet while his beard was trimmed to perfection. He watched over the ballroom from his high table, while the guests danced and the orchestra to the left of the room played their beautiful music.

“Shall we dance?” Marina asked Friedrich, smiling at him.

“We’re here on a mission,” Friedrich said, not noticing Marina’s face drop a little.

“Of course,” she said, hiding her disappointment. “We’ll split up and search for Baron Pelagius.”

“Yes,” said Friedrich, moving along while looking from person to person, trying to work out who the baron may have been without being too obvious.

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He was tempted to start asking the other guests, but thought it was better to take the subtle approach for the time being. Friedrich could still see Lord Buckstone sitting at the chair with his wife beside him, so everything was fine for now. He just had to make sure it stood that way.

As he finished his first lap around the edge of the room and drew close to the door once more, he heard the mutterings of many men, bachelors and married ones alike. A woman had arrived and her beauty was so intoxicating that she had gathered a small crowd around her.

She wore silk ballgown with a white lace pattern running from her chest to her stomach, where the pattern became solid gold and carried on to the bottom of her dress where it ended in a point. The top of the dress had a similar pointed gold motif that exposed her shoulders and the top of her arms, while a golden necklace filled with sapphires adorned her neck. She wore long gloves of white and lilac that stretched almost to her elbows.

But it was not the divinely elegant dress that drew the attention of the men, it was the woman’s frame and her face. She was tall and slender with blonde hair so shining that would have been blinding in brighter light. Her eyes shone like emeralds greener than the deepest forests and her golden skin glowed in the warm light of the ballroom.

“Do you see her?” asked one of the men, nudging Friedrich with his elbow. “I have never seen an elf so beautiful.”

The man’s wife grabbed him by the ear and dragged him away as Friedrich stared as Blackjack, almost enamoured too. He had always known she was beautiful, but she kept herself so shadowed in her dark armour and with her hood obscuring her that he often forgot.

As she walked into the room, the gathering of men hurried to move out of the way to let her through. Upon seeing Friedrich, her eyes narrowed and she approached him.

“I would say I am surprised to see you here, Friedrich,” she said, “but you always seem to be more resourceful than I give you credit for.”

“I have my ways,” said Friedrich. “And how did you get in here?”

“I can be very persuasive,” said Blackjack. “I am much more than an archer, and you would do well to remember that.”

A very handsome man approached the pair, stepping past Friedrich as though he wasn’t there. “Might I say,” he said to Blackjack. “You are the most radiant woman I have ever seen. Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”

He bowed and held his hand out to her, but she walked past him and took Friedrich by the arm. “I am afraid that I fiancé would not approve of that, would you dear?”

Friedrich was taken aback. “Um…no, I would not,” he said, as the man stood up, straightened his jacket and walked away red-faced.

“We are going to put aside our competition for now,” said Blackjack quietly. “We need to find Baron Pelagius before he slays the lord.”

“You know about that?” asked Friedrich.

“I am much more than an archer. I have been keeping track of him for weeks and I know what he plans to do. I have studied the history of The Butcher and his role in the killings—”

“Twenty years ago.”

“You are indeed more resourceful than I give you credit for. Dance with me.”

Blackjack placed one of Friedrich’s hands on her hips and put one of hers on his shoulder. Her other hand locked fingers with his other hands and she led the dance, moving into the centre of the room, where many of the other revellers were moving in the same way to the symphony of the orchestra.

“You have gotten taller,” said Blackjack, her eyes level with Friedrich, whereas only a month ago she was several inches taller than him.

“Growth spurt,” he said, surprised that they were now matching in height.

“Is Marina here?”

“Yes, we split up to try and find the baron before he gets to work.”

“We need to keep an eye on Lord Buckstone,” said Blackjack. “That can be your job.”

“He’s sitting in the centre of the high table,” said Friedrich, nodding to the far end of the room.

Blackjack put her head close to Friedrich and looked over his shoulder. “Where?”

Friedrich took the lead on the dance and spun her around so that he could see the table. To his horror, Lord Buckstone was no longer sitting at it.

“He was there only two minutes ago,” he said.

“Then he cannot have gone far, let us seek him out before it is too late.”

“What about Marina?”

“I do not see her either, we will have to go without her.”

Blackjack released Friedrich’s hand and moved swiftly from the dancefloor, leading him towards a door near the back of the room. She opened it and the two headed into a quiet corridor that was lit much more dimly than the ballroom.

“This way,” said Blackjack, moving along the corridor and heading down a passage to the right.

“Where are we going?” asked Friedrich.

“To the lord’s study. It is the only room of any significance to him in this section of the castle. It is our best chance at finding him.”

“How do you know that?” asked Friedrich as he followed Blackjack down another passage and to a door.

“I have studied this place,” she said. “Evidently, you have not.”

She opened the door to the study and headed on inside. Friedrich followed and closed the door behind him. The room was lined with bookshelves and a large, oak pine desk sat near the window with the moonlight pouring through onto it. The lord was nowhere to be seen.

“What do we do now?” asked Friedrich.

“We keep looking,” said Blackjack, sighing and walked over to the window.

A portrait on the wall caught Friedrich’s eye. It was of a young man, seemingly in his late twenties, who looked a lot like the lord but without the beard and grey hair. At the bottom of the portrait, was a small plaque that read…

“Luthrus Buckstone,” said Friedrich quietly.

Blackjack walked beside him. “The lord’s youngest son. Do you know what happened to him?”

“Sadly, I do.”

“We will avenge him,” said Blackjack, her voice stern. “No family should suffer the loss of a loved one to a demon. An act of evil such as that requires retribution. We will ensure that the Baron Pelagius does not dare harm another ever again.”

“I’m sorry about how I spoke to you two days ago,” said Friedrich, turning to Blackjack. “I know you were trying to keep us safe.”

“I should not have kept you in the dark. Perhaps you would have listened to me had I not been so prideful.”

“Can we put an end to our competition?”

“Yes, that would be for the best.”

The doorhandle suddenly rattled, bringing Friedrich and Blackjack to full alert.