Moulin listened to Nikolai’s story, nodding at the right places, asking for clarification at others, but it took a surprisingly long time to outline the events that had led to him sitting there in the garden with her.

  She was obviously aware of most of it, and Nikolai didn’t share some of the most important bits—they weren’t part of the bargain. He never mentioned Sevrin, for one, and neither did he say anything about Kaelith’s bargain.

  He simply said he had helped her, and that they had since grown close and decided to work together.

  Once he finished, she just sat there for a while, taking it all in and working through it in her mind.

  Nikolai waited patiently until she finally shook her head. “Fae… I cannot believe you got involved with them, but I suppose it makes sense. They reached out to us several times, you see. My marriage was of great interest to them, and I suspect they were of the same court that recruited you. At least it isn’t as bad as I feared. You have time to get stronger, freedom to move as you wish. In ten years, however, that might change…”

  Nikolai nodded. “Yeah. I was in a bad place, Moulin. Felt very alone. I am fully aware that was the point at which the king reached out. I know he took advantage of me at my weakest, and I was desperate enough to grasp at straws. The dice have been thrown, though, so now it remains to be seen how they will land.”

  Moulin smiled. “An apt analogy. Be careful, Nikolai. Be wary of sudden urges. Walking along our individual paths can change us, sometimes without us noticing. You’ve grown darker, more cold and callous. I still see the light in you, but you must maintain balance, dear. From what you say, that might be exactly what your path is all about. Twilight mage… I have never heard of that particular path.”

  She tapped a finger against her chin as she considered. “From what I understand of your explanation, the principles of your path are quite clear to me. Anger and other negative emotions will empower your dark magic, while joy and generally positive ones will empower the light… Too much of either will be detrimental, though.”

  Nikolai nodded but was content to let her continue her thoughts.

  “Twilight… that time right before light turns to dark—the in-between. Balance. Yes, you must maintain balance. Take life with one hand, and give with the other. Life and death. Light and shadow. Good and evil. You will need to dwell in that grey space between. Otherwise, you might find yourself unable to heal someone important to you because anger consumes you… or unable to destroy a foe because you feel too much empathy toward them.” She spoke softly, her eyes fixed into the distance.

  “Interesting. I understand why you rely on the Soothe spell so much now… Well, it is going to be a prickly path, dear, and you shouldn’t expect others to like what you are trying to do.”

  “I will do my best. I am committed at this point. I will stand by my decisions, take responsibility for my actions, and live with the consequences,” Nikolai said as he rose to his feet and held out a hand.

  She took it, her furry paw feeling small in his palm. “Let’s get back to work, teacher.”

  As they began heading back, Moulin looked at him suspiciously. “Say… I noticed how efficient your healing has become. Quite an improvement from the last time. What stage are you at now?”

  Nikolai grinned. “This one is free, since you’re my teacher and all. I reached Stage 7 a few hours ago.”

  Moulin just shook her head in disbelief. “My dear husband might just have a heart attack when he hears that…”

  Calim came through the door of the dingy brothel like a wrecking ball, the entrance exploding into a shower of splinters.

  He heard the crashing of other adventurers entering the building from different sides, their coordination perfect. Like the other two places they had cleared, the guards were already waiting for them, and he couldn’t quite fathom why the hell they hadn’t run.

  One man came at him swinging a rudimentary club, nails punched through it for extra lethality. Calim rolled his eyes and took the man’s arm off at the elbow before knocking him unconscious with the haft of his sword.

  He blurred forward and appeared in front of the next man in an instant. The thug was holding a young girl with a knife pressed to her neck. Calim grabbed the blade in a gauntleted hand, then punched the man with enough force to send teeth flying.

  The girl screamed but clutched at Calim for safety, burying her dirty face in the tabard he wore over mail and plate.

  She shook with tears, and Calim dropped the knife aside before giving her a gentle embrace. “You’re alright now. No need to fear any longer.”

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  “Where were you…” she choked out. “We hoped… we…!?”

  Calim knew it wasn’t directed at him personally. She had likely been begging any god who would listen for mercy, for help. His jaw tightened in anger. This had been happening right under their noses, and… No. He had known. They all had. It had just taken some shadowy organization kicking the hornet’s nest for them to act.

  He was ashamed.

  One of the guild receptionists came and took the girl from his arms, freeing him to do his job. With hardened eyes and clenched teeth, Calim ventured deeper into the disgusting building. He would make damn sure none of the scum responsible would survive the night.

  Lurk walked just behind Kaelith as she led her team down a broad avenue. The night was still young, but the streets were mostly deserted. Nikolai’s rampage and the burning buildings he had left in his wake had put a definite damper on any kind of jovial activity.

  Kaelith smiled behind her mask. Nikolai had done an amazing job so far. Now it was her turn.

  Their target came into view, and the Gillen estate was abuzz with activity. When they saw the group of ten adventurers rounding the corner, shouting erupted, and a carriage shot down the street in the opposite direction.

  Kaelith made a gesture, and from the other end of the street another team appeared—smaller, only three people. Davon, Kent, and Erik, all large warriors in heavy armor, ready to stop the carriage in its tracks.

  The horses reared as their path was blocked, and Kent dragged the finely dressed women out of the carriage. There were three of them—Gillen’s wife and two daughters. Kaelith dismissed them; she had no interest in them for the time being. It was the husband she was after.

  They reached the mansion itself, and the doors were firmly shut. They were thick slabs of finely carved wood, possibly reinforced with magic. She glanced at Lurk. “Go knock, Lurk.”

  The Draugr looked formidable in his new armor. Though it had been dulled to avoid drawing attention, there was no hiding its quality. The massive hammer he drew from his spatial pouch radiated menace.

  Lurk swung the enormous weapon. The doors cracked on the first strike, then were reduced to splinters on the second. From inside, crossbows twanged, and bolts came whistling through the space where the door had stood moments before.

  Lurk caught most of them on his armor but still suffered several flesh wounds. The few that slipped past him scattered into the street, the adventurers using Lurk as cover.

  The Draugr surged forward, the adventurers close behind. Kaelith grinned behind her mask and raised her hand as she entered the building. Flames as dark as night erupted around her, and she loosed them into a small group charging from the side.

  Lurk became a whirlwind of heavy steel, and nothing in the entrance hall could stand against his might. Most of Kaelith’s spells were focused on enhancing her creation, and while that left her with fewer options for herself, Lurk became something truly terrifying in exchange.

  He pushed deeper into the crowded hall, and Kaelith couldn’t believe how many mercenaries—or whatever they were—were present.

  Some were skilled. She saw one of the adventurers fall, his head nearly severed. She directed Lurk toward the hooded fighter responsible, giving the healer time to try and save their comrade.

  Meanwhile, Kaelith continued unleashing Dark Flame in every direction. The fire spread rapidly. It did not damage structures but burned the life force from her enemies. It wasn’t a rare or particularly complex spell, but the only true counters were artifacts, barriers, or magic capable of healing or dispelling negative effects.

  It was akin to a curse—one that continued spreading and propagating unless addressed quickly.

  As it turned out, several mages were among their enemies, but adventurers were nothing if not efficient. They were used to fighting monsters, but they understood priorities. Mages had to fall first.

  As a tall woman in a red robe cast some form of cleansing fire, a wiry man from Kaelith’s team appeared behind her, stabbed her several times with brutal efficiency, then vanished back into the chaos.

  Kaelith glanced up the stairwell as the fighting began to subside. Most of their enemies were dead or dying. She saw who she assumed to be Algart Gillen being escorted downstairs in chains by stonefaced adventurers.

  Kaelith nodded in approval. Soon she stood face to face with the slave-trading noble.

  He looked battered. He likely hadn’t surrendered easily, and she was perfectly fine with that. She tilted her head slightly. “Algart Gillen. I am Kaelith of the Adventurer’s Guild. Pleased you could join us.”

  Algart scowled at her. “Cowardly curs. I will have you all hanging from the bloody walls come morning—mark my words!”

  Kaelith stabbed Algart in the shoulder with her new sword—not deep, but enough for the serrated edge to bite into him. He cried out in pain but was held fast by the two adventurers restraining him.

  Their eyes were hard. They didn’t flinch at her display of cruelty. She approved.

  “Mr. Gillen, we know about your basement. We know about the tunnel, and we know about the slaves. We also have your wife and daughters, control of your mansion, and your life.” Kaelith spoke in a low, almost casual tone. She paused deliberately, meeting his hostile gaze.

  “Now, I am sure a deal can be struck, Mr. Gillen—at least for your family. I have no doubt Charles Keanton is planning his escape. He is not coming to your aid. Cooperate willingly, and perhaps there may still be a sliver of hope for you.”

  Algart Gillen was many things—a horrible human being among them—but he was not a fool. He understood his position. Understood that once the adventurers acted, they would not retreat.

  “He put you up to this!? What changed!? You cowards have never taken direct action before—but now you suddenly find your courage and attack nobles!?”

  Kaelith leaned in close, her mask almost brushing his cheek. Then whispered for his ear alone.

  “Nocturne.”

  As she leaned back, he looked more confused than ever, and she smiled behind the mask. She gestured for the two adventurers to take him away.

  It was time to venture below.