They stepped out of the driving rain and into the tavern, where the rich caramel-like scent of ale hung heavy in the air.

They pushed their way through the drunken mob, and into the kitchen, where they headed down to the lowest level.

Illyian sat in an armchair reading a book propped up on his crossed legs while he nibbled on a crumpet covered with a dark jam.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“Bad. We were ambushed,” Connor said.

Illyian looked up from his book and wrinkled his nose. “So I see,” he said, “what did you two do? Swim in their guts? And you’re both sopping wet. I take it, it’s raining? You’d think it would’ve at least cleaned you two off a bit.”

“Fighting is a messy business,” Connor said, “we need to report to Victor right away. Send some men down to the east side of the docks. Have them collect the corpses, everything they carried, and anything that looks remotely like evidence.

“We need to learn everything we can about them. This is the highest priority. Oh, and send an armed escort with your men. They might try something else.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Illyian said, “how many bodies am I dealing with?”

“About twenty?” Connor said.

“Twenty-three,” Adelia corrected.

Illyian’s lip twitched. “Twenty-three?” he asked, “what did… how… are you two sure you’re okay?”

“We should be,” Connor said, “but see if you can identify what exactly the enchantment on those rods does. I got hit with one on my arm, and it’s still numb. I can’t even twitch my fingers. I’d like to know if it’ll wear off, or if it’ll spread or what.”

“I shall do so as a matter of urgency,” Illyian said.

Connor massaged his arm as he and Adelia walked down the winding passages of the labyrinth once more.

At least they had a name to go on now. The Syndicate… but who were they? Were they the ones buying the slaves? Were they the masterminds or another puppet?

Still… whoever they were, those men at the docks had been skilled and with enchanted weapons and even two wizards and a necromancer? Where did they get the resources for that? And why had he never even heard of them before…

Neither of them had spoken much since the attack at the docks. Connor fingered the hilt of his rapier with his good hand and eyed every corner warily.

They stepped out of the mausoleum into the rain. It was coming down even harder than before, and thunder boomed across the sky.

Still, despite the rain. It was good to be back behind palace walls, surrounded by guards…

He took a few steps forward and stopped.

“Adelia… where are the guards?” he asked.

It was late in the night now, but despite that, the pelting rain, and the howling wind, there should still be guards patrolling the grounds.

There were none.

Connor drew his rapier and walked toward the manor. His walk quickly turned into a run and dread gripped his pounding heart like a vice.

He kicked open the front door and stormed inside.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

The floor was slick with blood. The dark-clothed bodies of Victor’s guards lay beside men with the same gear as the ones that had attacked them at the docks… just a lot more of them.

Doors and furniture were strewn among the corpses in shattered remnants. Scorch marks adorned the walls and droplets of blood ran down them as though the house were crying. Still wet.

Connor crept along as silent as a ghost with Adelia at his back.

He strained his heightened senses for even the slightest noise other than the thunderous, shrieking storm outside and the soft rustle of clothing as they moved.

Every breath saturated his nostrils with the coppery scent of blood and spread into his mouth until it was all he tasted.

They checked the bodies as they moved through the manor, but found no survivors and no sign of Victor.

Connor kept his rapier at the ready and stalked ever closer to Victor’s office. Maybe, Victor had escaped into the workshop.

He could only hope.

The carnage only grew worse the deeper they went. Bodies lay in pieces, both Victor’s guards and the enemy.

Entire sections of wall were simply gone, torn apart by brute force. The ground was chewed up and increasingly full of craters. Not even the ceiling was spared, with gaps showing the floors above, and blood dripping down from them like grim waterfalls.

The door to Victor’s office was a smoking ruin, along with the frame and most of the wall.

Even with all those wards… gods! What could possibly tear through them so quickly?

He stepped over another corpse and into the room. His boots squelched on the blood-soaked carpet. Adelia stood with her back to him, watching the passageway like a cat ready to pounce.

A glimmer beneath the bookshelf caught his enhanced eyes. He bent down and reached under. His hands felt something hard and wet.

He pulled out two keys, both dripping with blood. Not just any keys, they were exactly like the key to the workshop.

“Find something?” Adelia asked.

Connor slipped the keys into his bottomless bag.

“No,” he said.

He looked around the office some more. The walls, floor, and ceiling were painted red with blood. The bodies were so badly mangled, there was no way to tell them apart or even how many there were.

First the ambush at the docks… and now this?

“They knew,” Connor said.

“What?” Adelia asked.

“They knew,” Connor said again, “they knew where we would be. They knew about the meeting with the informant, and they ambushed us. Luckily they underestimated us.

“They knew about Victor, and they got inside the palace. They attacked the manor with a massive force, and there isn’t a single palace guard around. Not even their bodies. This was all orchestrated. They planned this all in advance, and they have someone with access to the palace helping them.”

“Do you think they…” Adelia’s voice trailed off.

“No,” Connor said. He picked up one of the runed rods from the fallen men and looked it over.

It looked exactly like the ones they had used when they attacked Adelia and Connor at the docks.

“Either Victor got away, or they captured him,” Connor said.

“How can you be so sure?” Adelia asked.

He held up the runed rod. “My arm is still numb from getting hit by one of these things. If I got hit enough times… I wouldn’t have been able to move, “he said, “look at how most of Victor’s guards died.

“Apart from the ones that got hit by gods knows what, most of them had their throats slit. The blood is pooled on the ground under them. They were paralyzed and then executed. These weapons don’t kill. At least not instantly, but they do a good job of incapacitating the target.

“Perfect for capturing someone alive wouldn’t you say? Add that to the fact we can’t find Victor’s body, and either he got away, or they got what they came for and took him with them. They didn’t even bother to carry their own dead back. Though… they may not have had the manpower after the slaughter here. There are three of their dead for each of ours. At least that’s what it looked like in the rest of the manor. I can’t tell here.”

He still wanted to check the workshop just in case Victor had escaped down there, but he couldn’t with Adelia here. Even if Victor was badly injured, he’d kill Connor for giving away their secret.

Besides, the chance Victor was there was slim. Connor had two keys… unless Victor had a third?

He fingered the pouch at his waist.

“Adelia, could you help me search their dead? They might have some clue about who they are, and if Victor did manage to escape then I expect he’ll be back soon,” Connor said.

“Top or bottom?” she asked.

“What?” Connor asked.

“Do you want me to take the top floor or the bottom floor?” She said.

“You take the top. I’ll take the bottom,” said Connor.

Adelia left, and Connor waited. Her soft footsteps were almost impossible to pick up even with his senses.

He gave her a little longer just to make sure, and then took out one of the two keys. He wiped the blood off as best he could and felt along the wall until he found the keyhole. The key slid in place.

The heavy thump of footsteps drawing closer stopped him. He focused on it… three men in heavy armor and someone much lighter?

Had the palace guard finally arrived? Maybe they could tell him what had happened, and where the guards had been while the manor was under attack?

He slipped the key back into his bottomless bag and three palace guards filed into Victor’s office… along with Chamberlain Davison.

Could this day get any worse?