There was a pause, and then-

"Let them in!"

The guards opened the doors to reveal a long, rectangular table under a covered balcony. Van and Finnick Lagos sat on opposite ends, eating a breakfast of roasted meats, bread, and fruit.

"My friends."

Van Lagos turned to greet us with a beaming smile, leaning back into his plush, red chair. He quirked an eyebrow at Castille.

"And most beautiful company. A pleasure to see you again."

Castille mirrored his expression.

"The pleasure's mine."

"Please. Sit. Eat."

He gestured to the platter of food at the centre of the table, and the chairs pulled up along the table's side.

"Thank you, but we already ate," I said.

"I hear that will be a luxury soon," Finnick said.

He stooped over his plate in a protective crouch, his perpetual scowl on his face.

"Luckily, we have a stockpile of food and water set aside for such occasions. Lady Kateen can be difficult sometimes," Van Lagos said. "Will you share our table?"

I sat down in a chair between Finnick and Van Lagos. Castille and Dugan remained standing, flanking me on either side, playing the role of bodyguards. Isla stayed further back, an equal distance between Finnick and Lira, who stood by the doors.

"I'm surprised to see you in one piece. Last I heard, you were being carried away by one of Lady Kateen's daughters. Most don't survive her care, and the ones who do wish they didn't," Van Lagos said.

I grimaced at the thought of Clarice standing over me—one more thing to add to my nightmares.

"Why does no one stop her?"

Van Lagos shrugged.

"What's to stop? She limits herself to the enemies of her Lady mother and, occasionally, the homeless."

Spirits below. It was just like the capital.

"Why have you come here, Jacob? To get revenge?"

I sighed.

I wish.

"No. I need help capturing Arwen."

Finnick scoffed.

"Didn't we hire you to do that for us?"

"My brother is right. That was our deal, Jacob."

This was the tricky part.

"If we were just dealing with Tiny Tom's cartel, the job would already be over. It's Kateen's men that are the problem. You can't fight a war on two fronts."

Or so Gren liked to say.

"Going after Arwen leaves our back exposed."

"We have no interest in fighting Lady Kateen to protect your rear," Finnick said.

Van Lagos raised a finger.

"Of course, we would protect Dugan."

Finnick's scowl deepened.

"Of course."

Beside me, the bearded man blushed.

"What if we stayed out of the Service Quarter? My team can capture Arwen during his inspections in the Industrial Quarter or his home."

"His home would be a bad choice," Lira said. "Tiny Tom's cartel has influence in the poorer Residential Quarter."

"And the Industrial Quarter?"

"We control roughly sixty percent of that territory—the most profitable operations."

"OK. We'll make our move in the Industrial Quarter. Can your people keep a lookout for us?"

"A lookout?" Finnick asked, a sour look on his face.

I nodded.

"Information on where he is and someone watching our back."

"We can do that," Van Lagos said.

Finnick almost choked.

Van Lagos gestured at Lira with a wave of his hand.

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"Lira, can you make the arrangements?"

"Of course, Van Lagos."

"Um."

Lira and the Lagos brothers turned to Isla. She made herself smaller, shrinking into the corner of the balcony.

"Who's this?" Van Lagos asked.

"Another person on my team. A scholar."

"You have an object in your hall. C-Can we examine it?"

Finnick and Van Lagos exchanged looks.

"Why not? It's your cremation."

What did that mean?

"Lira-"

"I'll show them to the hall."

"Excellent. Everyone happy?"

"No," Finnick said.

"Good! Now, you have a busy day ahead. You should get started."

I stoop up.

"Thank you for your help, Finnick. Van."

"Hmph."

"Good luck! And Jacob…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't fail me."

"I won't."

# # #

Lira led us down the stairs and through the corridors to the estate's hall.

Castille and Lira walked in front, followed by Isla, Dugan, and myself.

"So… Van Lagos likes you," Lira said to Castille.

"That's what happens when men see beautiful women like us."

"Excuse me?"

"The men here must be lining up for you. Men, women and everything in between."

"I... Uh... Our guards find their satisfaction in the Service Quarter."

"And what about you?"

Castille inched closer to the leader of the Lagos guards, looking over her shoulder to wink at Dugan.

"W-We're here!" Lira said, changing the subject.

She hurried past Castille, gesturing to the guards outside the hall.

As the heavy wooden doors swung open, goosebumps prickled my skin. I reached for the cane on my belt. Dugan froze. Castille stood straighter, and Isla shivered, pulling up her hood. We took cautious steps to the entrance of the hall, leaving a pale-faced Dugan by the bismuth crystals on display. The guards disappeared into the dark room to light braziers with torches hanging near the door.

"Lira, what happened in the hall after the party ended?"

"I interrogated the servants handling the wine."

"Did they say anything?"

"They were tight-lipped, so I opened their mouths and poured wine down their throats. The effect on the orb was unexpected. We've been keeping people away from the hall ever since."

She folded her arms to stop herself from shivering.

Those servants died in this room, and their souls were pulled into the orb, magnifying the disturbing feeling it gave off.

"Isla?"

She nodded.

"I'm ready."

Isla took a deep breath, straightened her posture and took slow steps into the hall. Castille hung back at the doors to stay close to Lira. I followed Isla.

Hunger washed over me—like my jacket—like my dagger but stronger and worse. I couldn't turn it off. In the presence of the orb, we were all matches forced to burn.

I stopped halfway. My eyes went wide.

The rings around the orb were rotating—faster than that night—faster the closer we walked to it.

"Isla?!"

"I'll be OK. Wait here."

I did as she said.

She took methodical steps around the orb. Her brow was furrowed, seeing something I couldn't.

Behind me, light footsteps padded closer. I turned as Finnick walked to my side. He watched Isla examine the orb in stony silence for a long moment before speaking.

"My brother has many flaws: reckless, brash… and too trusting."

He stared up at me.

"He looks at you and sees himself, but we both know what you are?"

"What's that?"

"A liar."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

"You lied about being a merchant, and you lie about that one being a scholar."

Finnick pointed a clawed finger at Isla.

"She's a mage like Dugan, isn't she?"

I stayed silent, slipping on my neutral mask.

Finnick bared his teeth, his long canines flashing in the light of the braziers.

"Do you take us for fools?"

"I take you for pragmatic men."

I crossed my arms, pointing my chin at the orb.

"You know that thing is dangerous. My people are the experts. Let us do our job, and everyone will come out of this alright."

Come on, let this work.

Finnick narrowed his eyes.

"Your people? Where are your people? I only see you."

Well, it was worth a shot.

"Your elven glamour doesn't work on me. There's something else going on here, and when I figure it out… you'll be the first to die."

I flashed Finnick my most winning smile.

"Get in line."

"AAH!"

Isla's scream pulled us from our conversation. She stumbled away from the orb and fell on her back.

"Isla!"

The image of the orb ripping out that woman's soul flashed in my mind. I ran to her side before reason could stop me.

"It's OK... I'm OK."

"You didn't sound OK!"

She got to her feet, brushing off the dust on her cloak.

Leaning forward, she whispered to me.

"We need to leave. Now!"

"What?" I whispered.

"I figured it out. I figured out the heavy metal curse."

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