None of this sat well with Max.

Maria, for all of her commanding presence and skills, was a single girl his own age. She was not suited to take on hundreds of armed killers - even if she was wielding a stolen weapon. She was brimming with confidence, assured that she would successfully locate the hostages and release them.

All Max could do was sit in the barracks and mope. It made him feel pathetic. He’d leapt into action when it was on offer, but the reality of that was like running into a brick wall. The only thing he’d managed to do was hand off some information to her. What was he expecting to do when he agreed to Hoffman’s bargain?

He cast a weary glance to the slumbering cultists in the barracks with him. Feldstein was still nowhere to be found, and he was confident that a lot of the other cultists weren’t as personable as he was. The whole reason he was staying put and keeping quiet was because of the potential consequences of disobedience.

Max’s decision was ultimately made for him by an unforeseen event.

He leapt out of his chair in fear as the entire fort rumbled, an ear-splitting explosion echoing through the valley and shaking the very foundations of the hill the fort was built upon. The cultists in the bunks did the same, tumbling over the edge or jolting awake in shock.

Luckily – the explosion didn’t reach inside. In that split-second, Max reasoned that staying put was actually a terrible idea. He hurried out of the room before the sleeping cultists could get their bearings and started moving towards the throne room. If he couldn’t rescue the others, he could at least frustrate their plan by hiding the book somewhere.

If they didn’t have the book, they couldn’t perform their ceremony, and that would mean they’d have to keep the prisoners alive until they could find it again. That was what Adrian figured based on his own meeting with Hoffman, anyway.

The explosion sent everyone in the fort scrambling. They completely ignored him and ran towards the scene in small groups, some armed with weapons and others not. It was almost too easy to reach the double doors again. Feldstein was still nowhere to be seen, but now he had a good excuse for trying to get out of the way.

He approached the doors and peered through the crack to check if any of the stone masons were still chipping away at the floor. The circle he saw during Hoffman’s speech wasn’t finished as far as he could tell, with several of the smaller areas being left blank. He could still see the tools they’d used, but now they were haphazardly thrown onto the floor as a blind panic overtook them.

Hoffman wasn’t going to be happy about that. They were on a strict time limit. They needed to complete the circle first before they could kill any of them. Max took his chance and slipped into the room, hurrying across the carved summoning circle and jogging up the steps to reach the podium. The masons had left it there, presumably to utilise it as a reference for their work.

It was opened on a page that detailed some of the rules about the circle itself and what each rune inside of it meant. There was no time to stay and read through it, but Max picked up on particular words and ideas from a brief glance. Adrian was right – they were doing something extremely profane. They intended to use this book to unleash a great evil on the surrounding area.

Max wouldn’t allow it. They’d already harmed innocent people in their quest for instability. Samantha’s hometown was collateral damage to them. It was his duty as one of her friends to stop them from annihilating the place she called home. He slammed the book shut and hoisted it up, only to discover that the thing was incredibly heavy!

It looked thick, but to hold it was another matter entirely. The hundreds and hundreds of thick pages, combined with the haphazard binding on the inside, only added to the density. It was big too. Max couldn’t fit it into his coat pocket without someone being able to see it. He had to settle for slipping it beneath the coat and tucking it under his arm.

He just needed to find a good place to hide it. Even a minor delay to their plot would give the police the opportunity to storm the fort and put this whole ordeal to bed. The fort was huge. He could probably throw it into any old storage room and rest assured that nobody would find it in time.

Rather than go back through the double doors, Max chose to escape through the other exit behind the dais. It spilt outwards into a narrow corridor that ran along the far edge of the building, intended for quick escapes or secure transferals for the royal family.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and the sounds of the cultists outside struggling to contain the blaze that had been left in the wake of the detonation. Max had no clue who was responsible for that. It may have even been an accident. It wasn’t safe being surrounded by so many crates filled with Goddess-knows-what.

Where did this passage lead exactly? That was the mystery that drove him onwards. It had to spit him out somewhere, and he hoped that it was a good place to hide a conspicuous book. The light was allowed to leak into the passage through a series of small slits in the stonework, but it was by no means a clear path to take. Even the relatively short distance the passageway covered plunged into darkness right in front of his eyes.

It took all of his nerves to stay calm. Every time a situation like this happened, he found himself wondering what he did in a past life to deserve such rotten treatment. There was a light at the end of the tunnel after a few minutes of squeezing through. An incredibly narrow door awaited at the other end. It was a miracle that the door wasn’t locked.

What wasn’t so convenient was the area where he found himself spat out. The confidence died in his throat as he realised that he was in one of the two main courtyards of the fort. He’d blundered directly into the place where the explosion occurred.

Max tried to stay calm and loitered at the edge of the yard behind a crate.

It was easy to see where the explosion had occurred. One of the buildings in the outer courtyard had been evaporated into a pile of stones and wooden planks. There was no indication that a building used to stand there – just a crater and a burning fire on the wall next to it. The cultists hurried back and forth with buckets of water, trying to stop it from spreading and destroying their defences.

The devastation was in line with what he was anticipating from the noise. He could see injured men and women being carted away from the scene of the blast, actively bleeding from wounds caused by the shrapnel that flew in every direction. There was a sense of confusion from those who beheld the damage. Nobody knew how or why the storehouse went up in flames.

It couldn’t have been Maria – she went off in the direction of the cells to try and free the others. Was it an accident, or was there another saboteur hiding amongst their ranks, striking now that they believed the time was right? This was no police assault. Whoever did this was already on the inside. Max took advantage of the confusion and slipped away before anyone spotted him observing the damage.

There was a new problem to deal with. The tour he received was not exhaustive and the fort was huge. It was impossible for him to know where the safest area to hide the book would be. It needed to be out of the way – but also placed in a location where no reasonable person would look should a search be dispatched to find it.

The book was the biggest Max had ever seen or handled. It was thick and the bright red cover stood out against the dull surroundings. Fully obscuring its form was essential. It was a good thing that Max was the undisputed hide-and-seek champion of his and Claude’s village, even if Claude would have an unkind word to say about his claim to the title.

The first idea that came to mind was the supply crates. There were hundreds of them, presumably packed to the top with food, weapons, ammunition and spare clothes. You couldn’t walk for a few meters without running headfirst into one of them. They occupied most of the rooms in the fort’s central building, which meant they were both common and easily obfuscated. One crate was identical to another aside from the exterior marking – and none of them were designated for the book in the first place.

Max ran back into the main building and delved deep into the bowels of the place in search of one such room. Any of them would do. What he found was a storage location tucked away into the back corner of a long dead end. He grabbed a prying tool from the top of the box and unlatched a random one that was filled with clothes. He pulled them aside and found an unused shirt. The book happily slid into the fabric, which he wrapped around several times to prevent it from falling out.

Then, he left it there buried beneath them. It would take a monumental effort to find it using time they didn’t have. Presuming that they hadn’t yet devoted the information inside to memory and that they were wise enough to avoid forging ahead without that knowledge, it would mean that the police could launch their attack on the fort without fear of a terrible monster ripping through them like a whirlwind.

Max was not sure if Adrian’s description was apt – he himself expressed doubts about the validity of Hoffman’s claims, but it was better to take the safe route and prevent him from trying than risk it being true.

Now he just had to get back and find Maria.

----------------------------------------

I was being overly optimistic when I thought things were going to go smoothly.

A lot of the people the cultists had locked away were suffering from a variety of ailments. The cold sapped the strength from their bodies, and the scant food and water they were given kept them from moving quickly along as I tried to move them towards our exfiltration point. Veronica was gunning for the book as I spoke, so she wasn’t going to swoop in and help.

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“How in the Goddess’ grace did you find us here?” my Father whispered.

“I did some investigation of my own. I could hardly sit back and allow my Father and compatriots to be left to this murderous lot, now.”

That was not a satisfactory answer – and I was being evasive in a way that alarmed him.

“I really don’t approve of you throwing yourself into this situation, Maria. We’ll have to have a long talk once we get home.” He was still doing to ‘stern father’ act in the middle of all of this. That was the most astonishing thing I’d seen thus far.

The explosion was the opportunity we needed to make our dash for the exit. All of the cultists were running around like headless chickens, trying to find the person responsible and put out the fire before the damage could spread.

“We’re almost to the exit. A little more and we’ll be away from the fort.”

I was trying to convince myself more than anything. I couldn’t believe we’d made it this far without running into any of the cultists. This was pure luck. I was not in control of this situation in the slightest and I’d never dream of trying a plan this audacious if not for the pressing circumstances.

Just a little more. I could see the final hallway we needed to clear right in front of my eyes. We were close, but that was when Hoffman turned up to put a kibosh to my hastily laid plan.

He was waiting in the hallway just before our destination with a pair of armed guards. The convoy screeched to a halt, with me forced to stay at the front and ward away any hostile action. The problem was that I couldn’t draw my gun and shoot at them without revealing my secret to the hostages.

It wasn’t an ideal scenario anyway. I was better served as the brave but outmatched heroine, something that would give Hoffman pause to shoot me dead on the spot rather than hearing me out. There was a cry of despair from some of the nobles as they discovered that the nightmare wasn’t over just yet.

Hoffman regarded me with scorn in his eyes.

“Did you honestly think it was going to be that easy?” he chuckled, “I was not born yesterday. When chaos is near, that means the enemy wants your eyes to be diverted from their true objective.”

The guards he brought with him quickly encircled us and prevented our exit through the back trench line. I chose not to draw my own weapon, knowing that it would only result in my death at their hands. This was my first meeting with Hoffman and the grave injury that covered one half of his face aligned nicely with his ominous reputation.

His eyes met mine, “And who would you happen to be? I don’t recall recovering you.”

Damian stepped in front of me and held his arm across my path, “Never mind that. Do you not have a more pressing issue to handle at the moment?”

Hoffman snorted, “There is nothing more important to me than fulfilling our Goddess-given task, and we cannot do that without our guests of honour. Your selfishness is boundless. When presented with the chance to right this world’s wrongs and protect Walser, you choose to protect only yourselves.”

“Bah. Don’t speak of protecting others, you violent brute. All of this blood spilled and for what purpose? You don’t even know if this scheme of yours will do anything! Those confidence-laced words are the worst kind of insult.”

“Sacrifices must be made for the betterment of the whole.”

Hoffman considered his next move. The cells were compromised, and there was someone in the fort trying to cause as much damage as they could. The safest place to keep them would be the throne room. That way he could protect the summoning circle from being damaged by using them as human shields – an elegant solution that killed two birds with one stone.

“Follow me.”

It wasn’t an order that anyone was positioned to refuse. The jovial atmosphere took a sudden nosedive. There was no comfort that I could offer to them because I was starting to get stressed about how I was getting them out of there in one piece. Hoffman led us by gunpoint until we reached an interesting set of doors.

What lay beyond was a room that dwarfed every other in the fortress. It was a throne room, presumably to be used by the monarchy should the capital fall into enemy hands during the civil war.

The real issue was the gigantic summoning circle that Hoffman’s men had chiselled into the floor. It was an irritatingly clever solution for making a complex drawing out of human blood. It couldn’t simply be washed away or suffer an error in the creation process because of how precisely it was created. All they had to do was kill the sacrifices in the right places and let gravity do the rest.

“I can’t allow a drop of your blood to be spilt before the anointed time. There’s no reason to be in a hurry, we’re getting very close. Just a few finishing touches and you will all see the grand painting we’ve created together.”

Hoffman turned to face us. The group stood away from the circle – not wanting to risk their lives by stepping onto it. A large gap separated us. Again, his attention was focused on me. With Damian standing to my left, he finally caught on to what my deal was.

“Oh, I see. The good daughter is here to rescue her Father. How noble of you.”

“I was not the one who caused that explosion before you ask.”

“You didn’t come alone?”

“No. I did. It’s merely a coincidence. This is the central point of the conflict, is it not? It would be strange if I were the only person attempting to interfere.”

Hoffman stroked his facial hair, “I have to credit you for the attempt. You are of a brave sort to sneak into this fortress given the situation, and you almost got away with it.”

“Your flattery is wasted.”

He frowned, “I know. Your Father already refused my gracious offer before. I won’t waste my breath by extending the same mercy to you.”

“And what would that offer be, exactly? If you want him to break the law, you should be forewarned that he is the single greatest stickler for rules that you may ever meet.”

Hoffman sighed, “Yes. I became quite aware of that during our meeting. There is an opportunity for a handful of you to live. That offer is still open to the rest of you. All I ask is that you support our attempts to save this world from destruction.”

He was trying to use the prisoner’s dilemma on them, but if the offer was still open that meant not enough of them had taken him up on it. Max didn’t mention anyone else doing the same, and everyone was certain that the entire cohort of prisoners remained in the cells from the first moment they arrived.

The silence was deafening. Nobody chose to accept his offer.

He exhaled through his nose and rubbed the corners of his eyes in frustration. He was hoping to cash in a big payday from this, but it hadn’t worked. He wasn’t getting at anybody’s family fortune like this.

“I’m surprised. I believed that at least some of you were rational enough to understand what an opportunity this is. Why is it that you pick now, of all times, to take a principled stand for something as immaterial as your own satisfaction?”

Fernando pushed through the group and stepped out onto the circle without reservation, “I’ve had enough of your words! I’d rather you be quiet than make these obscene offers to us. Your promises are worth nothing.”

Tensions were heating up. I didn’t like that. Hoffman was trying to pitch himself as the reasonable one, the good cop, with the people he led being the bad actors. They could snap and shoot one of us at any moment. Hoffman looked down at the circle and noticed that it wasn’t finished yet.

“Where are the masons?” he barked.

“They must have run away when the explosion happened,” one of the guards explained.

“Then go get them back! We can’t complete the ritual if the circle isn’t finished!”

The guard bowed his head and quickly left the room, confident that Hoffman and his other friend could handle a group of unarmed nobles. With Hoffman facing us, he was left completely unaware while the door behind the dais opened and a figure stepped through. She snuck around the edge of the platform and observed how many foes there were to dispatch.

Veronica was back. She sure took her sweet time.

The guard who remained had drawn the short straw. Veronica pulled her pistol and shot him twice through the back. His dead body fell in a heap on the ground, and Hoffman knew that he was rumbled. Veronica had the jump on him. He raised his hands into the air and threw his weapon onto the ground. The nobles screamed in shock at the sight of a man being gunned down in front of them, cowering at either side of the room to try and avoid being caught in the line of fire. Samantha grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the nearest stone pillar so that we could hide too.

Damian, for his part, refrained from calling out her name and making matters more complicated than they already were. Veronica stood atop the steps with a gun in one hand and a stick of dynamite in the other. She didn’t spare a glance in his direction. She was only focused on the job.

“I’m afraid that this ceremony is cancelled, Hoffman. I’m here to retrieve the book and see you off to the next life.”

Hoffman growled, “I take it that you’re the damnable cur who WISA sent? I thought that our ambush on the train would be rid of you. I was sadly mistaken.”

“Oh, I almost forgot about that,” she laughed, “Don’t worry. You have a lot of information that I want, so I won’t kill you yet. You can start by telling me who your spy on the inside is, and where you’ve hidden the book.”

Hoffman’s eyes darted to the wooden altar to her left. She followed his gaze but found nothing.

“Go ahead. Where is it?”

Hoffman realized that she wasn’t playing a silly game to screw with him. It was an issue that I’d neglected to catch before she arrived. The book was missing. There was no sign of it on the altar.

Without the book, he couldn’t complete the ritual circle, but if he revealed that he’d lost it – then he’d lose what little leverage he had over Veronica in the process. She believed that he was hiding it from her and she couldn’t kill him until he talked.

“Why would I tell you that? Do you honestly believe that I’m stupid enough to hand it over to you given this situation? You’re already planning on killing me – so don’t bother offering me my life. I dedicated my existence to this path long ago. I’m a dead man walking.”

“But if you talk there might be time to rally your men and escape this fort before the police turn it into a mass grave. That explosion only underlined the urgency of their operation. They’re going to act soon. Do you have time to follow the plan now?”

I really thought she should have just killed him then and there, but she wanted to get her grubby hands on the book. It was revealing that her priority was that, and not to rescue the hostages. Was it damage control, or another goal entirely? I didn’t trust her to do the right thing.

They were at an impasse. I guessed that Hoffman didn’t know where the book had been misplaced in the chaos, so he wasn’t going to tell her that he had no idea when she was holding him at gunpoint. Veronica wasn’t going to pull the trigger if there was a chance of him having that information. She needed someone to talk – the fort was too big to search by herself.

Almost two minutes passed with neither saying a word.

Samantha whispered to me, “What should we do?”

“I don’t know. This is bad. Nobody knows where the book is.”

“What is this book?” Sam inquired.

“He needs it to summon a demon from the veil.”

“Then... isn’t it a good thing that they don’t know?”

“I want to know. I want to keep it away from both of them.”

Samantha stared at me, and then at Veronica, and then at me, and then at Veronica. Her neurons were firing at their maximum power as the pieces fell into place. She opened her mouth but second-guessed herself. She looked at my face and narrowed her eyes, before finally coming out with her great revelation.

“Wait. Is she your mother?”

“I’m not sure.”

“But she looks exactly like you.”

“I know she does.”

Our debate was interrupted by the arrival of an unwelcome visitor. Max poked his head through the double doors and beheld the spectacle that was ongoing inside the throne room. When he’d visited just a few minutes ago, there was nobody there. Now it was filled from wall to wall with nobles, Hoffman, and a stranger holding him at gunpoint.

Veronica was quick to yell and order at him; “You, boy! Close the door behind you.”

Max was not in a position to refuse. He stepped through and shut it, pulling down the wooden bar that ran across the span to prevent someone from opening it again. I swore under my breath. This wasn’t what I wanted to see.

“Who are you?”

Max stiffened, “Maxwell Abdah.”

His Father was waving to him from the other side of the room as if to beckon him over.

Veronica smiled, “I don’t suppose that you know where the book is?”

Goddess help me - his expression said it all. He knew where the book had gotten to, and now he was facing an impossible decision.

Just who was he going to side with?