Seen through the eyes of Phillip Penrose

Day in the story: 10th November (Monday)

It had taken time, but I finally found him. The last name on Eveline de Marco's list. A fifteen-year-old boy, marked by Beatrice's foresight as powerful, yet somehow still unclaimed. He'd slipped through the cracks. That, in itself, was impressive.

When I saw him, he was on his knees near a jewelry store, scouring the edges of the sidewalk for anything dropped or discarded. Just an hour earlier, he'd been panhandling in front of St. Patrick's, worn thin by life, but not broken. Far from it.

He was resourceful. That mattered more than most things.

I had already sent three people ahead to box him in. They remained hidden, poised to act if the boy ran. Rei was among them, ready to paralyze him if he chose to.

Once they were in position, I approached.

"Hello, Michael," I said.

Unfortunate, that name. It was the same as my late son's. But fate has no concern for our comfort, it simply circles back in different skins. This boy bore my son's name; I now wore a face his fate would not yet understand.

He looked up at me, eyes wide, cautious. Like a stray cornered by a sudden light. He glanced side to side, calculating options. I kept him rooted with words.

"My name is Phillip Penrose. I'm a benefactor. I want something you have."

No need for thin veils in this game.

"Fuck you," he snapped. "You show up, suit sharp, shoes shining, talk like you own the world and you want something from me? I've got nothing."

His anger hit fast but ebbed just as quickly. Some part of him realized I hadn't corrected him. That maybe, just maybe, he did have something I wanted.

I waited.

The silence did the rest.

It usually did the most of the heavy lifting of opening someone's mouth.

I said nothing. Just stood there, watching. Letting the weight of my presence loom.

He glanced up again. "What's your deal? What do you really want?"

There it was—the shift. Curiosity. Willingness to trade.

"There are people in this world who are different, Michael," I said. "Better than others. I'm one of them. So are you."

He laughed bitterly, full of spit and rust. "Yeah, right. I'm a fucking street rat. No parents, no future. That's your idea of special?"

"Yes. That desperation gave you clarity. A drive. You understand power. And that power is brought by money. You crave it. You chase it. You value it above all else. Am I wrong?"

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. My team had been watching him for weeks. He begged, he scavenged, he stole but he also invested. He had a broker's account. Unusual for a boy with no home. But telling.

"So what?" he said at last. "You've got more than I ever will. Why would you want anything from me?"

"Because you're special," I repeated. "That drive awoke something in you. You were called to a trial and you passed."

His eyes narrowed. He froze. I had gambled he had gone through it already. From the silence, I knew I was right.

"You've seen the light around you," I continued. "And you found a crystal, shining brighter than any gold you've ever touched. That's your soul core, and it gives you power over what you love most."

Still silence. His gaze flickered back to the gutter, then to the edge of the street, then back to me. He was thinking about running.

I didn't stop him. I let him weigh his odds.

"I'm offering you a deal," I said. "Work for me. I'll give you the money you need to make more. We'll make a contract. I take five percent of everything you earn."

"Five percent?" His eyes snapped back to me, disbelief cutting through his suspicion. "You're full of shit. No one like you takes that little."

"I have it in writing," I said, handing him a contract. He scanned it, eyes darting across the page. Ten million up front. Five percent of all future earnings. Two-year bond.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I know your kind," I said. "I've seen others like you. I believe that ten million, in your hands, under your magic, will be worth far more to me than it ever could be sitting idle. Do you believe in yourself as much as I do, young man?"

"I can do whatever I want with this money?" he asked.

"As is stated in the contract."

He folded the paper slowly, eyes still on me. "Okay," he said at last. "I'm in."

He stood there on the crossroads. Young, raw, burning with the first taste of his own power.

Was I the demon in this deal?

Or was he?

**********

Day in the story: 21st November (Friday)

Michael had made good progress with the money.

And I had made good progress with Michael.

Such was the nature of transactions.

The contract I gave him, bearing my signature, offered more than just ten million dollars. It offered trust. He accepted both. At this point in his life, trust was cheaper to him than money, and that suited me just fine.

A week ago, I asked him where he considered "home" is.

To him, it was just idle curiosity from a rich man's innocent question, something to dismiss or humor.

So he answered freely.

He'd lived with his mother in a one-room apartment in Wakefield, until she overdosed.

I'd already placed Thomas and Alexandra on watch in that area under the pretense that Beatrice had spotted a soulmark of potential value nearby. Alexandra found a breach in that neighborhood and slipped through into Ideworld. She painted a stable anchor point at the exact address Michael gave me. Thanks to her, I now had a doorway into the other side.

It was my first journey into that strange, mirrored place.

"Are you sure, sir? I can come with you," Alexandra said, wearing that armored suit of hers. It made her look like a machine, an efficient one. Strongest among us by far. Not for long.

But she wasn't coming with me. Not after what she'd done.

She'd destroyed the necklace rather than deliver it to me.

She made a choice. One I would not forget.

"No, Alexandra. Stay here with Thomas," I said.

He would make sure she stayed put.

"As you wish, sir."

She returned to whispering with Thomas.

Rei led me through Ideworld.

This place—It was poverty given form.

Everything here sagged, cracked, or decayed. Echoes of despair shaped into matter. Buildings threatened to collapse under their own weariness, and the people here looked like ghosts with skin. Hollowed out. Barely standing.

We reached the apartment building. Third floor.

It looked like it should've fallen decades ago.

I opened the door myself. Rei waited behind me, quiet, alert.

Inside, the space defied the decay outside.

The room was a vault.

The door I pushed aside gleamed like the reinforced entrance of a bank. The walls and floors were smooth, polished gold. The ceiling shimmered with a light like cut diamonds. And in the center, suspended midair, pulsed the crystal.

Golden shadowlight swirled inside it, throbbing to a heartbeat I could almost feel beneath my ribs.

Rei followed me in. I shut the door.

"Attack the crystal," I said.

He didn't hesitate.

The first blow of his hammer rang like thunder. Cracks webbed across the crystal. The walls fractured. The floor trembled. The diamond sky above groaned under the strain.

And then, Michael appeared.

He emerged in a burst of golden light.

Rei struck immediately, freezing him in place with shadow paralysis.

I stepped toward the boy. Rei stopped hammering.

Michael looked at me, eyes wide, betrayed.

He understood now. The trust he'd traded away so cheaply turned out to be a bad investment.

I didn't gloat. I didn't speak. I simply stepped close enough for it to be personal—close enough to cut past the protections his power granted.

And then I drove the blade into his heart.

I watched his eyes. They say you can see the soul leave the body through them. With mages, it's not metaphor.

Golden shadowlight flooded his eyes, leaking out like breath in winter. It flowed backward, into the crystal core suspended in the center of the room. The light churned once, violently and then dimmed.

Colors drained from the walls, the ceiling, the crystal itself.

The heartbeat stopped.

Rei released his grip on the boy.

Michael collapsed like a puppet with its strings severed. No light. No power. No breath.

I stepped toward the crystal.

And placed my hands on it.

The power within the crystal spoke to me. It used the boy's voice.

It demanded hunger, ambition, acceptance of money's worth, an unshakable nerve and it found all of that within me in an instant. As I suspected, the boy could have been me. I could've ended up like him. But it wasn't luck that brought me here. It was the will to dig through iron stored within blood, to break open whatever needed breaking if it meant gaining more.

The hall trembled as the crystal pulsed once, casting the room in a cold, metallic light. Not gold this time it was silver. The clean, sharp silver of coins. I had always preferred them over gold. Coins had precision. They carried history. They bore the faces of those who had earned something in this world. "In God we trust", but the god was money itself. Power. And that was something I could believe in.

The silver shadowlight poured out of the crystal and into me. Where gold had been a dull promise of wealth, silver was immediate and tangible. It could move markets, start wars, build dynasties.

I felt it settle in my bones.

I felt worthy.

This power was mine. Paid for in blood.

As the energy coursed through me, the Domain around us shifted. The floor beneath my feet flattened and transformed, becoming a vast, embossed silver coin. The walls reformed next, smoothing into polished silver, reflecting us like mirrors. Then came the statues, rising out of the metal in a slow, steady crawl. They were all of me, every version that had ever existed: a beggar, a thief, a lover, a father, an art enthusiast, a mourner, a man crowned in power. Each cast in shining detail. Each telling a piece of my story.

The ceiling opened, revealing a vast expanse of space, with stars seemingly within arm's reach. Everything—all of it—felt within my grasp.

Among those stars, arranged in constellations alien to Earth, I saw my own face blinking back at me in their light. And then I saw two more.

The first was as I remembered him—my son, Michael.

The second shifted and shimmered, ever-changing, as was only fitting for her.

I smiled.

Behind me, the crystal had begun to repair itself. It would take time. But I could feel it working, feel its energy reorganizing, reshaping. I reached inside it with my senses, looking for what the boy had left behind. His soulmarks were still etched into its structure, remnants of the trial he passed.

The first was clear: a golden bar, the mark of value. Promising. Full of potential.

The second: a mark of embodiment. Even better. I'd seen what that kind of power could become in the hands of someone like Lebens. It would serve me just as well.

I felt stronger. Sharper. Like two decades had been carved off my age and thrown away. My mind was clear, my posture lighter. I let my hands fall away from the crystal.

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Rei was already waiting.

We stepped out of the Domain, and I turned back to the door. With a single thought, I willed it to vanish. The entrance disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a plain, crumbling wall. No one would find what I had claimed. No one would take what I had taken.

The boy's body remained behind. A reminder. A receipt.

We descended to the street where Alexandra and Thomas were waiting. They were laughing about something. She looked strangely at ease, her mechanical suit glinting in the Ideworld's dim light. I watched them for a moment.

I smiled to myself, but said nothing.

Rei didn't speak either. That was good. He disliked Alexandra, and for now, that worked in my favor.

"You got what you came for, sir?" Thomas asked.

Alexandra didn't say a word, but I could feel her eyes on me. Calculating. Measuring. She'd learned that from me. She was like me in many ways. Almost. But not quite.

"Yes," I said. "Alexandra, take us back to the Finest's."

She nodded and obeyed, unaware that I had shifted the balance again.

And this time, it was tipping further in my favor than ever before.

**********

Day in the story: 30

th

November (Sunday)

There was still so much Michael didn't understand about his own power.

I used to watch him, back when he worked under me. He could shift the value of money with a flick of his will, golden shadowlight pulsing from his fingertips as he made something worth ten times what it was or nothing at all. Impressive, perhaps. But child's play compared to what the gift truly meant.

Magic wasn't about tricks. It was about will and worldview. Those were the rules that shaped everything for a mage. Now, I understood that far more clearly than I once had.

His soulmark was "value." On the surface, such a thing seemed mundane. A fiscal power. A number printed on the face of money or inside a table on a screen. But that wasn't even scratching the surface. Value wasn't only monetary. It wasn't confined to markets or balance sheets.

I held a coin in my hand, letting it glint in the low light as it rolled across my knuckles. So obvious, now.

There were so many ways to measure value.

Length. Width. Circumference. Weight. Speed. Momentum. Every physical property could be quantified. Could be given value. And I was the one who could alter them.

As I turned the thought over in my mind, a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," I said.

Beatrice stepped through. My watchdog. A skilled manipulator, if a little too used to controlling the feeble-minded. She even carried that same tone of false mysticism, like a street psychic peddling tarot cards for a quick buck.

"There's something I need to tell you," she said.

I didn't stop playing with the coin. "Go ahead. Speak."

"I've been digging into a group called Edge of Tomorrow," she began. "They're a tech company. Based on that artificial island, you know the one."

"I've heard of them," I said. "Tech isn't my concern."

"It's not the tech that matters," she said quickly. "They're also a mage guild."

That made me pause.

"Their CEO is a mage," she continued. "And she keeps a record of all the Domains of her employed mages, including their locations inside the Ideworld."

That was something. A map of potential rivals and assets, each catalogued by power. A goldmine.

"She doesn't sound like someone who'd part with it easily."

"No," Beatrice admitted. "But there are skeletons in that place. Secrets worth trading for. That's why I think you should send Alexandra. She has ways of navigating spaces others can't. If anyone can find leverage or the list itself, it's her."

Alexandra was resourceful, maybe too much so. But that was also the problem. She destroyed the necklace. She believed I'd misuse it. She'd do the same with the list, if she thought it dangerous enough.

"She can be pulled out if it goes bad," Beatrice insisted. "You know how ghost-like she can be. I'll continue spying on the island from the outside, but someone needs to go in. Someone they won't expect."

It was a risk. But the potential outweighed it. If the list existed, it was a gateway to everything, a map of the Ideworld's powerful pieces.

"I'll speak to her," I said. "Give me everything you have."

**********

Day in the story: 7th December (Sunday)

Beatrice sat across from me again, this time at the kitchen table of my house. I poured myself a glass of whiskey, wondering what kind of news she'd bring tonight. With her, it was never simple.

"Phillip, there's something I've kept from you," she said, her voice touched with theatrical gravity. "But I can't bear it anymore."

It sounded like a setup. Another attempt to manipulate the narrative before I could.

"What is it?" I asked flatly.

"I know it may sound outlandish," she began, "but—I found out Alexa didn't destroy the necklace. She still has it. Most likely hidden inside her Domain."

I should've felt betrayed. Instead, what surged through me was pride and greed. So she had it all this time…

"How long have you known?" I asked.

"Since the day she supposedly destroyed it," she said, not quite able to meet my eyes.

"So you waited. Sat on this until the right moment."

"You don't believe me? Ask her. You know her better than anyone." A deflection. She was hiding something. Again. I'd need to make sure Robert's and Akira's lines were tapped, see what turned up there.

"I will talk to her," I said. "But I don't appreciate being kept in the dark. When I decided to keep you around, I expected you to be my eyes. But I also assumed they'd be open. Do we understand each other?"

She shifted in her seat. Squirmed, even. Good. Let her feel the heat.

"There's one more thing," she added quickly, reaching for redemption. "About the Edge of Tomorrow. They have an operational Ideworld gate, but it's not on the island."

"Why not? That kind of asset, they'd usually keep close."

"It's tied to Barbara's Carpenter body somehow. They're using her as a conduit to keep the link open. The gate's anchored in a house somewhere off-site, and Barbara is being kept in a drug-induced coma."

That made my fingers tighten slightly around the glass.

"I want more," I said. "Find out everything you can. And give me details on that sleeping woman."

"I will," she replied, more cautious now.

I turned to the window. Night had fallen thick and silent, the sky outside black as velvet.

"One more thing," Beatrice added.

Of course there was.

"It's about Alexa."

I didn't look at her. Just took a slow sip. "Speak."

"She came to see me earlier. Said she wants to end cooperation with you."

Not surprising. With her growing power, she probably thought I was holding her back.

"Is that why you brought up the necklace?" I asked.

"I thought you should know," she said. "Before she slips completely out of your grasp."

"So you did wait for the right moment," I said, quietly. "Just not for me."

I stood and stepped away from the table. "Now get the hell out of my kitchen. I want to drink in peace."

**********

Day in the story: 11th December (Thursday)

"Sir," Thomas's voice crackled through the phone. "The gate was there. We secured the comatose woman… but her shadow's gone. Someone else took it."

"One of Edge of Tomorrow's?" I asked.

"No. Smaller figure. Could've been a man or a woman. Good with knives. Strong, very strong. And definitely a mage. Took a shot to the chest, didn't even flinch."

Small, fast, knife-skilled, unbothered by gunfire… Alexandra—maybe.

"How did they take Barbara's shadow?" I asked.

"No idea, sir. Me and Rei got taken down, but not for long. When we got back on our feet, it was gone. Just gone."

No trace, no time wasted. That sounded like Alexandra too. Thomas had never been able to properly see through her. She'd always slipped past him. Always.

"Rei lost an eye, sir," he added.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, sir."

So she'd spared Thomas, but took a piece of Rei and vanished with someone else in tow. Classic Alexandra.

"Stick to the plan," I said. "Tell Rei I'll see what I can do about the eye."

"Yes, sir," he replied, and ended the call.

I stood still for a moment, the pieces clicking into place. Beatrice had pushed this op forward just two hours ago, nudging me to act before I felt ready. I'd wanted another day to prepare, but she insisted. She claimed their security was at its weakest—that this was the perfect window.

I moved up to the window to look outside, gather my thoughts.

Now it reeked of setup.

She had forced my hand—again. Sent Alexandra to EoT. Told me about the necklace at the most opportune moment. Played the innocent informant while the board shifted beneath my feet.

Too many coincidences.

If Alicia greets my question about the list with surprise—or tries to manipulate me—I'll know the truth.

This wasn't fate. This was orchestration. A proper talk was due.

**********

Beatrice sat across from me in the back of the car, one leg crossed over the other, eyes narrowed.

"Where are we going exactly?" she asked.

"You'll see," I replied, keeping my voice calm.

"Couldn't I just project there?" she said, impatient.

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a 50-cent coin, holding it out to her. She took it, studying it with mild confusion.

"What is this?" she asked.

"No, Beatrice. You can't project. You're needed there in person." I looked ahead. "Ramirez, stop the car."

The driver obeyed immediately, pulling the limo to the curb.

I turned back to Beatrice. "Weight 400 pounds."

The effect was instant. Her arm dropped like a stone, pinned violently to the seat by the sudden change in the coin's mass. She let out a cry of pain, struggling against the weight pressing her down.

"What the hell are you doing? How?" she gasped.

I leaned in slightly, voice steady but cold. "You owe me an explanation, Beatrice. You've been playing me for a while now. Depending on your answer, you might walk away from this."

She writhed in her seat, her palm crushed under the coin's immense weight. She was trying not to scream.

Instead of an answer, she muttered, "How did you acquire a Domain?"

I slapped her, hard and without hesitation.

"That was your first and last mistake in this conversation," I said. "Now talk. What was your plan?"

She coughed, her eyes full of fury and fear. "Around early November, Robert de Marco came to me. He wanted help finding Giovani and getting him out of hiding. After the feud between Robert, Eveline, and later… you… Giovani disappeared. Robert knew he was the money behind Eyes of Tomorrow. A major investor. But Robert couldn't access anything without tipping Giovani off."

"Robert wants Giovani dead?" I asked.

"Yes. Desperately. That's why he got involved with the Mafia in the first place."

I didn't respond, only nodded for her to go on.

"I started monitoring EoT. Eventually, I discovered their involvement in magical experimentation. That's when I floated the idea of Domains. A fake list to get you interested. And I told you about the necklace, hoping you'd go after them. And Alexa."

"So you wanted a three-way conflict," I said. "You used me to attack both them and Alexandra. To stir the pot. Is that right?"

"Exactly. I needed someone who could put pressure on both sides. Someone unpredictable enough to make things move."

"But how could you be sure Alexa would play along?"

"I wasn't," she admitted. "But I planned for that. I planted enough to push her in that direction. I forced a meeting between her and the brother of one of EoT's top soldiers. I made it look like coincidence, but I guided him through Suburbia until he crossed paths with her."

I narrowed my eyes. "And then?"

"Then I tipped off the other brother, the one running the operation about his sibling interfering with his other business. Forced Alexa's hand. She either helped, or let the guy get killed. I gambled on her compassion."

"And today," I said slowly, "you called Robert. Told him Alicia was coming for me."

She hesitated, then nodded once. "Yes."

I looked at her, weighed the silence between us.

"You've been thorough," I said finally. "I'll give you that."

"How can you know?" Beatrice asked, eyes narrowing. "I contacted him in spirit form. I always have."

"You do," I said, "but he uses a regular phone to call Mr. Akira Shiroi. They're already on their way to eliminate Giovani, as per your plan. So, I suppose congratulations are in order. You've made your point."

She fell quiet, then asked, "What are you going to do?"

I released the shadowlight from the coin with ease. I still didn't understand why Alexandra struggled so much with doing it at range. For me, it came naturally. Then again, I'd always been a strategist—pulling strings from a distance.

"We're going to a place where I'm keeping Barbara," I said. "Alicia's likely headed there too. I want to parley with her. I think I'd make a better partner for her than the ones she's clinging to now."

Beatrice winced, cradling her hand, crushed from the pressure. "And what about me?" she asked. "What about Robert and Akira?"

I waved a hand, disinterested. "Them? I don't care who kills who. If Giovani dies, that's fine. If he survives and them die, even better. Either way, I win. As for you," I motioned to Ramirez to get the car moving again "I haven't decided yet."

She didn't respond at first. Then, softly, "You're angry because I played you and Alexandra."

"I am not angry, but you made a mess," I said. "A dangerous one. Tell me, how did you even know she switched the necklace?"

"Pure chance," Beatrice replied, exhaling shakily. "I was on my way to meet with Akira. She appeared in his home, surprised me. She told him everything: her plan to destroy the necklace, how she wanted to beat Eveline, where she was going to do it. So I followed. I watched the fight closely, especially at the end. I was worried she'd hurt Akira but instead, she made the switch. That's how I knew."

"You're a clever schemer."

"Not clever enough, clearly. How did you find out?"

"Thomas told me what happened at the EoT gatehouse. It was obvious they'd fought Alexandra, she didn't want to hurt him, yet still managed to vanish with Barbara's shadow. And it was you who insisted I send my team right away. You wanted to be sure they crossed paths."

"I just wanted you to find Barbara before she did," Beatrice said quickly.

"If that were true, you would've told me she was moving. Instead, you let it play out like an accident. And that," I leaned closer "was your mistake. I don't believe in lucky coincidences. They don't lead to anything good. If something seems too well-timed, it's been orchestrated."

"And yet I learned about the necklace through coincidence," she said, her voice rising. "Pure chance, Phillip!"

I shrugged. "Even the wildest things happen once in a while. Doesn't mean they're the rule."

She fell silent again, watching me carefully. Then, trying to change the subject she asked, "What are you going to do with Alexa?"

I felt my jaw tighten. I wanted to strike her, just for that. But I held it in. It wasn't the time. We had already arrived.

"Thank you, Ramirez," I said, stepping out of the car. "Come with me, Beatrice."

She followed reluctantly, eyes darting toward exits as we entered the warehouse. The space had been converted into a makeshift field hospital, just enough to keep our guest alive and stable.

"I'll give Alexandra a choice," I said as we walked. "She made a mistake, but she can fix it. I'm a forgiving man."

That was mostly true. I did not forgive betrayal but Alexandra hadn't betrayed me. She was motivated by greed, and by the belief that I might abuse the power of the necklace. She was right, of course. I might have. But that wasn't betrayal it was care. What followed after was me forcing her hand, and her defending herself and those she loved.

I understood that. I respected it.

She deserved a second chance.

That's what a father should do, right?

"Move," I said to Beatrice, gesturing toward the chair where she would wait. She sat, watching me with narrowed eyes.

Thomas stepped into view.

"I'll wait here," I told him. "Let me know when our guests arrive."

"Yes, boss," he said with a nod. "I will."

**********

They arrived about an hour later.

First came around twenty soldiers, rifles raised, sweeping the warehouse for traps and threats, checking every shadow and corner. Then Alicia Bergman entered, accompanied by Dr. Gerard Jugger and Mr. Adrian Brawn. I knew Jugger was a mage. If Brawn had come along, I assumed he was one too.

"I'm glad no shots have been fired so far," I said, turning toward her from the far end of the hall. I was standing in front of the tent where Barbara lay. Thomas stood beside me, keeping a firm grip on Beatrice to stop her from running. It was just the two of us now. I appreciated that he'd volunteered to stay. I would've had Rei remain as well, but with one eye gone and the pain still fresh, he was a liability tonight.

"You left quite the sign out front," Alicia said. Indeed I had. I'd ordered my men to paint a bold red message on the pavement in front of the warehouse: I WANT TO TALK. Crude, but effective.

"So I've come to talk," she continued, halting her approach twenty feet away.

"My name is Phillip Penrose," I said, voice clear. "And both I and you have been played by a third party."

"Explain." Straight to the point. I appreciated that.

"Not long ago, I took this seer"—I gestured toward Beatrice—"under my protection. She'd been mistreated by someone. Eveline De Marco. Currently at large. Wife of Robert De Marco, who, as you probably know, has unresolved business with your benefactor, Mr. Giovani."

That made her flinch, just slightly.

"Unfortunately, due to my own greed," I continued, "this seer managed to manipulate me, just as she manipulated you. Her aim was simple: to stir enough chaos to draw Giovani out of hiding."

Alicia turned slightly and whispered something to Brawn. He nodded and stepped away to make a call. I gave them a moment to speak in private before I continued.

"I believe that if Giovani chooses to expose himself in an attempt to regain control, he'll be putting his life at serious risk," I said. "Whether that outcome is unfavorable to you or to me, remains to be seen. Personally, I think I have a strong argument against it being a loss at all."

"You think losing Giovani's support would be good for me?" she asked. Her tone had shifted. Calmer now. She was no stranger to tense negotiations.

"I'm certain of it," I replied. "Whatever money he's offering, I can match it and more. All I want in return right now is unrestricted access to your gate."

"You wanted a list before," she said. "You were going to trade Barbara for the names of our mages. You're changing the terms."

"I am," I admitted. "I'll give you Barbara with no strings attached. I've come to the conclusion that a list like that likely doesn't exist—or, if it does, your offer to share it was just a way to stall for time."

She gave me a half-smile. "You're quick to learn from your mistakes, Mr. Penrose."

"It's an occupational hazard."

There was a brief silence, broken only by the faint buzz of the lights above us.

"I'm afraid I have to decline your proposal," she said finally. "Mr. Giovani prefers to remain our sole backer. And I'd like to receive Barbara now along with the seer who made fools of both of us. I'm willing to consider that an even trade. Let's settle the books, as it were."

"Let go of Beatrice, Thomas. Go get Barbara. Bring her here," I said quietly.

Beatrice tensed beside him, her voice quivering. "Are you going to let them take me?"

"No. Of course not," I said, and she relaxed a little.

Thomas gave a short nod and stepped into the tent.

I turned back toward Alicia and her entourage.

"My man is retrieving Barbara now. He'll bring her to you shortly." Alicia gave a slight nod. "As for the seer, I've explained her role in all this and warned you about her intentions. That, to me, settles the balance between us, just as you said."

"You're in no position to negotiate, Mr. Penrose," she said coldly. "She comes with us, or this ends in bloodshed."

"I understand your stance," I replied, calm, rolling the coin through my fingers. "And I accept that resolution."

"Good. I knew you were a reasonable man, Mr. Pen—"

She didn't finish. I didn't wait. With a flick of my wrist, I hurled the coin at Beatrice's head. The silver shadowlight flared, amplifying its mass and speed in an instant. Her skull burst open in a wet explosion of blood, bone, and brain matter. Her body collapsed before the sound had fully registered.

"—rose…" Alicia completed, stunned into silence.

"Bloodshed is acceptable to me as well," I said. "She would have become your problem, just as she became mine. Her loyalty was placed elsewhere. It was to two men, and neither of them are here. This was a favor. Accept it as such."

Just then, Thomas emerged from the tent, pushing the hospital bed that carried Barbara's unconscious form. He looked down at Beatrice's ruined body, then up at me. I turned my head slightly. An unspoken signal: this is not cause for escalation.

He understood. Without a word, he rolled the bed forward to complete the handoff.

"If you ever reconsider the sole backer arrangement, give me a call. I'm open to further negotiations." She didn't respond. Instead, she ordered her men to take Barbara and move out.

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