Kiren was frightfully bored.

He had finished three sandalwood figurines which depicted Lace, Lace, and Lace respectively. None of them had turned out quite right, so he discarded them into a bucket, the same way as the wood shavings.

Apart from training and being with Lace, there wasn’t actually much to do at the Lodge. Not much that didn’t involve talking to people, at least, which wasn’t exactly up his alley.

Night had descended, so the Renewal Feast had likely started downstairs.

Kiren rose with a sigh. He shrugged into a linen shirt, which snagged on his sharp growths.

At least he figured he could go down and get himself something to drink. That would take the edge off the boredom for a while.

He went downstairs to the main hall. It was still early in the evening, but there was already a great ruckus in the hall. Two full roast pigs had been wheeled out for everyone to dig into, and dozens of Heroes and apprentices were enjoying a meal and a drink.

Songbird, clad in his cloak of colorful tatters, belted out a cheerful song atop the bar, with many singing along.

It seemed the Guild Master had already held his obligatory speech and retreated to his quarters, which suited Kiren just as well, considering the fact that Bloodhound was a prick.

Kiren looked around the main hall for someone not completely obnoxious to sit with, like Tommyn or Haden. He didn’t spot them through the crowds, but he did see someone else who caught his attention.

Bits. He came up the stairs leading down to Records, carrying a thin folder under his arm.

Kiren followed him with his gaze.

For once, the blond man wasn’t grinning. He made his way through the main hall without speaking to anyone, keeping his face downturned. He got to the other side and went up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

He’s up to something, Kiren thought. I know it. He’s got no reason to be down in Records.

Kiren followed him, hurrying over to the stairs and jogging up them. When he reached the second floor, Bits was already going down the hall.

He glanced back, saw Kiren, and grinned.

Bits knocked on door number 21.

Kiren carried on down the hall, trying to look natural. He glanced back every so often to see what Bits was doing.

The door opened, and Jahn the ice-man—the second half of the team that had beaten Kiren and Lace in the admittance duels—stood in the doorway.

“It’s time,” Bits said. “Go now. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“N-Now?” Jahn asked. “But I’m not ready.”

Bits put a hand on his shoulder. “It has to be now. Go. For Centucia.”

“For Centucia,” Jahn said uncertainly.

he left the room and proceeded up the stairs to the third floor.

What the fuck? Kiren thought. What’s this guy planning?

Kiren stopped and looked back at Bits. He noticed Kiren staring and his grin widened. He winked and headed inside his own room, 22, shutting the door behind him. A key rustled in the lock on the other side.

Kiren jogged over to the door. He looked up the staircase to the third floor, but Jahn was already gone.

Bits must be doing something shady.

I have to find out what.

His hand hovered over the handle of the locked door. He could hear footsteps and papers shuffling on the other side.

Something took hold of Kiren by his shoulder and pushed him up against the wall. He found himself staring into Eagle-Eyes’ yellow, uncanny eyes.

“What have you done?” the Hero hissed.

“What? Me?” Kiren asked. “I haven’t done anything! I noticed Bits doing something suspicious, so I followed him!”

For once, the Hero’s calm, impassive demeanor cracked, and his face became a mask of rage.

“He saw you,” Eagle-Eyes said. “Stand aside. You no longer have anything to do with this.”

He shoved Kiren to the side and stepped up to the door. He was about to kick it down when an apprentice, Veera, came running down the stairs.

“The Guild Master has been attacked!” she said, catching herself on the last step. “Hurry! All the other Heroes are downstairs.”

Without a word, Eagle-Eyes grabbed Kiren by the collar and pulled him up the stairs.

“Go to the main hall,” he told Veera. “Tell the others.”

She nodded and hurried downstairs.

Eagle-Eyes released Kiren as the two of them leapt up the steps. They got onto the third, then the fourth floor.

The door to the Guild Master’s office at the end of the hall was wide open.

Kiren and Eagle-Eyes ran towards it. The Hero drew a long knife from his belt, feathered cloak flapping behind him.

They entered the room, and Kiren skidded to a stop when he saw Bloodhound sitting behind his desk, a bleeding wound in his shoulder being tended to by his assistant.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

A fan of large, icy spikes obstructed the room, impaling the desk in several places. Eagle-Eyes carefully stepped around the ice to reach the Guild Master.

Jahn lay on the floor just inside the door, unconscious but unbloodied.

“Guild Master, are you alright?” Eagle-Eyes asked, surveying every inch of the room with his predator’s eyes. “Are there any other attackers?”

“I’m fine, lad,” Bloodhound said. “Just caught me unawares, that’s all.” He growled when Conversia prodded his wound too hard. “He seemed to be acting alone.”

With the Guild Master safe, Kiren’s thoughts returned to Bits.

What if this wasn’t the main attack? Bits isn’t stupid enough to think that one apprentice can take down the Guild Master of the Lodge.

What if this was just a distraction?

“Master Eagle-Eyes,” Kiren said urgently, forgoing any defiance for once. “I have to get Bits. Now.”

Eagle-Eyes looked back and nodded. “Be swift. Take any Heroes you find along the way as backup.”

Kiren ran out of the room.

Bits, you bastard.

What are you planning?

*****

“No, sir. You can’t take this goat. It doesn’t belong to you.”

Lace sighed, hands on her hips as she watched the drunkard flounder in the street. He stumbled over and hugged the frightened goat with both arms. Its owner watched from nearby, arms crossed, smiling.

“No…” the drunkard slurred. “‘S my goat… Her name’s… Betsy.”

“Okay, that’s enough now,” Lace said. She approached the man and grabbed his collar to pull him up. When he opened his mouth to protest, she blew a pillar of air into it, making his cheeks flap and his eyes bulge. He rose with a start, and Lace dragged him off, depositing him on a nearby street corner where a few of his friends promised to keep an eye on him.

She returned to the owner of the goat, who had taken ‘Betsy’ by her lead and was feeding her half a misshapen carrot.

“Very sorry about that, sir,” Lace said. “Hope you have a nice Renewal Feast.”

The owner laughed. “You kidding? That’s the most fun I’ve had all night.” He shook his head with a smile and wandered off, tugging his goat behind him.

Lace let out a sharp sigh. She scanned the street up and down, revelers passing by her in droves. Bonfires had been constructed in the intersection ahead, where people ate and danced and kissed.

Night had long since descended over the district of First Light, but there was still a golden light that illuminated the roofs and streets. The Second Sun’s golden dome shone a brilliant yellow, for this one night of the year.

There had been a time when the Second Sun shone every night, but these days, you had to cherish even small blessings.

The Renewal Festival celebrated the peak of the sun’s influence, and the bonfires were set to beseech the Creator to gift his subjects with good fortune and an ample harvest in the late summer and early autumn.

First Light was a more refined district than most in Goldbrand. As such, the festivities were more organized, less chaotic. In the poorer districts, she knew, there was often violence.

Even here, however, there was still pervasive drug use. That was what she had been doing for most of the night so far, confiscating Angel’s Kiss from the revelers in the large intersection. She had a small satchel filled with pink vials on her hip.

Lace met back up with Torchbearer, who had been splitting up two drunken revelers before they could start an altercation.

“Calm so far,” Torchbearer said, keeping a watchful eye on the street. His head blazed with orange flames, a way for anyone to tell from a distance that he was a Hero, and therefore not one to be tamper with. “More so than usual, actually.”

Lace nodded. She wouldn’t say it, of course, but she sorely wished that she could spend the night with her friends instead of being out here, wrangling drunkards and animals.

“Perhaps our presence here is not needed,” Torchbearer said. “The guards will be able to deal with any fights that break out.”

Lace’s chest fluttered with excitement. She hid a smile behind a false yawn.

She looked out over the happily celebrating crowd, hundreds of people come together to celebrate the midsummer, and the peak of the sun’s power.

“So, you’re saying we can return to the Lodge, Master?” Lace asked.

“Let us give it another few minutes,” Torchbearer said, giving her a reassuring clap on the shoulder. “I know you probably have plans of your own for tonight, but be patient. Remember your duty.”

Lace looked down. She had the presence of mind to feel ashamed. “Yes, Master. I remember.”

“Good. Then…” Torchbearer trailed off, frowning at something. “Wait. What is this?”

Lace looked up.

A man stumbled against a building. He doubled over and hurled dark vomit.

Just another drunk.

She took a few steps closer.

Not vomit, she realized.

Blood.

More people fell over and began to hack and cough.

A girl, probably no more than fifteen, staggered over to Lace. She fell on her knees, clutching Lace’s tunic, her eyes wide, pupils dilated.

“Help…” she whimpered. “It burns…”

She coughed blood, whimpered, and clutched her stomach. Lace caught her as she slid to the side, and slowly lowered her to the ground, adjusting her head so that the blood could drain from her mouth instead of obstructing her breathing.

“What in Svarta is happening?” Lace asked. More and more of the townsfolk seemed to be affected by the same, sudden symptoms, quickly rising to the dozens.

The rest of the revelers were finally taking notice and began to panic. Some rushed to help, some ran the other way. Some were too drunk to do much of anything.

Either way, it was chaos.

“I don’t know,” Torchbearer said. “We need more information. Could be an attack. Look for anyone suspicious.”

The young girl at Lace’s feet kept whimpering and pleading for help. She knelt beside her, powerless, and tried to comfort the girl as best she could.

Lace took her hand but found that the girl was clutching something.

An empty vial with a few drops of pink liquid still clinging to the bottom.

Could that be it…?

“Master!” Lace called. She rose to the feet and held up the vial. “I think the Angel’s Kiss is responsible! Someone poisoned it!”

“Evangel did steal a large batch of the stuff after Hulda’s arrest,” Torchbearer said. “Perhaps this is what he has been planning to do with it. Come on, help me round up all the victims!”

Lace nodded, and together they set to work.

The handful guards present helped them calm the situation and gather those affected. There were almost forty of them, with the number still rising as more townsfolk succumbed. Symptoms seemed to be shakiness, spasms, lack of muscle control, bleeding from orifices, as well as coughing and vomiting blood.

More than half of those affected by the sudden symptoms were found with Angel’s Kiss on their persons.

“It has to be Evangel,” Torchbearer said. “This sickness. It only matches one thing I can think of…”

“Beast-blood.”

Lace nodded. She looked on in vain as the civilians writhed in pain. “How can we help?”

Torchbearer shook his head. “I do not know. This is beyond my power to fix. It’s likely that more places in the city will be affected, judging by the size of the batch that was stolen.”

Lace was hit by a sudden thought.

Mom.

“Master Torchbearer!” Lace exclaimed. “I need to go. Right now. My mother, she’s… an abuser. I need to make sure she’s safe.”

Torchbearer regarded her for a few moments, then nodded reluctantly. “Very well. Go. Return here the moment you know of her situation. No exceptions.”

Lace was already off down the street.

She sprinted with all her legs would give.