The mana crystal pendulum in Alice’s hands gave a violent shudder before coming to an abrupt halt. It refused to tilt even a fraction in either direction. I let out a sigh.

  “Divination failed, mistress.” The doll lifted her head, the threads of her blindfold knitting themselves back into pce from the edges. “The threads fray here,” she murmured. “It’s blocked. Anti-divination wards on the other side. I won't be able to see anything.”

  Damn. I’d suspected as much, but I’d really been hoping to be wrong.

  “But…” I cast a gnce at the bloodstained entrance of the warehouse, frowning at the familiar sight of anti-divination runes and materials embedded in its structure. “Aren’t there divination wards here too? You pierced those.”

  Alice nodded slightly. “Rigor mortis rigor. Rot weakens barriers. These ones were weak and neglected, mistress. Divination requires precision and maintenance, and these were… let’s just say, not up to code. Because of that, I managed to squeeze out an answer.”

  That… actually made sense.

  A weighty silence settled over us. Quickpaw’s grip on her ice axe tightened as she bounced on her heels like a particurly deranged gremlin. Did she ever stop smiling? “Perfect! Luck’s got a grudge against us. They went through all this trouble just to keep us in the dark.”

  Lysska’s amber-crimson gaze sharpened as she stepped closer to the portal, her fingertips skimming the tar-like surface as if reading something in the air. “Anti-divination wards,” she murmured. “Strong ones. Which means someone on the other side really doesn’t want us peeking in. That’s not just hiding—it’s protecting.”

  I folded my arms, my thoughts already running ahead. “I’ve… actually come across a few things that might help us piece this together,” I said, meeting Lysska’s gaze.

  “Speak,” she commanded.

  I gestured toward the frozen lightning mage—Sara, Lysska told me her name. “This one let slip that they were after me. Not for ransom. Not for leverage. They needed my… alchemy.”

  I reyed the exact exchange from my capture, watching as Lysska’s expression shifted into something more pensive.

  “If they went to such lengths to block divination, stationed this many guards just to stand watch over the portal—an Elven portal, no less—then whatever’s behind it isn’t just important. It’s dangerous. And given the connection to the elves…”

  Alice’s voice echoed. “The wards are potent. I could attempt to probe past them, but… the techniques required might tip off whoever’s waiting on the other side.”

  Quickpaw let out an exaggerated groan and flopped onto the ground, her ice axe vanishing in a puff of frost. “Another mystery?! I hate mysteries! Here I was hoping for some nice, straightforward visions of doom.” She beamed, far too chipper for the situation. “Ugh, subtlety. Let’s skip to the fun part! Charge in, guts out, loot the mystery box!”

  Lysska’s thoughtful gaze flicked from Quickpaw. “We do no such thing. Especially not now. Blind charges breed blind corpses. We dance smarter.” Then her attention shifted back to me, lingering for a moment before returning to the inky depths of the portal.

  “These elves do ring a bell,” she murmured. “I’ve heard word that the Iron Pact has caught a few of them, skulking where they shouldn’t be. While Varkaigrad has its own portals, their workings are secretive—hardly something anyone can just replicate. And yet here we are, staring at an Elven portal right in the middle of the lower district, guarded not by elves, but Beastkin.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Either a feint… or a fracture. This raises too many questions.” She turned back to me, her voice edged with intrigue. “And then there’s the part where they needed an Alchemist. One with your talents, no less. This reeks of something deeper. We need a strategy. If these wards are meant to keep prying attempts out, brute force won’t cut it. We’ll have to outthink them.”

  FINALLY! I was about seventy percent sure that divine cuckoo was behind all this. That Thing. And now I’d managed to drag Lysska’s full attention into the mess. It was working in my favor—her crows would be watching every suspicious move with newfound interest. Their omniscient gaze? Mine to borrow. Which meant I would have access to even more information.

  But right now, the biggest question stood in front of me.

  I stepped closer. “So, what’s our move? We can’t just waltz in and expect to unravel everything. That’s a death wish—especially if they’ve got another batch of guards waiting inside.”

  “That much is true.” Lysska offered a small, knowing smile.

  “What if—” I cut in, my words tumbling out. “I dropped the same poison on the other side? It needs a body to take root and start working.” I gestured toward the guards the poison had failed to detonate. “We throw him in, take the antidotes, and walk through the chaos. But it’s a gambit…” I exhaled sharply. “There are too many variables. This pn is making me queasy just thinking about it.”

  Lysska inclined her head slightly, almost amused. “It’s possible,” she admitted. “And yes, it would create a proper distraction—but it’s also reckless. We don’t know what kind of power lurks on the other side.”

  She tapped a fingertip against her chin, then offered a wry smile. “Rushing in blind would be like chasing a shadow into a fog—by the time you grasp what’s real, it’s already too te.”

  I grimaced. “Even just standing in front of this thing is making me uneasy. What if someone walks through and immediately realizes what happened to everyone out here?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that...” Lysska’s lips curled as a set of runes fred to life beneath our feet. I couldn’t tell exactly what kind of spell they wove, but the satisfaction in her expression was enough to guess—whoever stepped through now would deeply regret it. Scary.

  “But for now…” Lysska turned her gaze to the frozen mage. “We start by questioning her.”

  She purred, tilting her head. “Question first, Jade. Truth serums? Or shall I… improvise?”

  Oh, right. She was still here too. A good start. Hopefully, this would actually get us some answers.

  I pulled a small vial from my belt, tilting it so the iridescent liquid caught the dim light. “Veritasium. Induces verbal diarrhea.” I watched the mage’s pupils constrict as I twirled the vial between my fingers. “Side effects may include…” I fshed a grin. “…existential regret.”

  The mage swallowed hard.

  Still, I had my doubts. If whoever was pulling the strings was as paranoid as they seemed, there was no way they'd entrust a low-level pawn with anything critical. Especially if elves were involved.

  Those racist bastards. As if they’d ever let a Beastkin in on their real pns.

  I still didn’t get why these Beastkin were even working for them. What was in it for them?

  I shook my head. That could wait. First, we had to make sure Alice had full control before she relinquished her hold over the mage’s body.

  “Quickpaw,” I said, flicking my finger in her direction. She was already moving, finding rope and binding the mage before I even finished the command.

  I crouched, uncorking the vial, and poured the shimmering serum between the mage’s parted lips. She twitched as the liquid slid down her throat.

  By all rights, the restraints were a joke. Even tied up, she was a high yellow core—breaking free would be child’s py. Which was why I considered experimenting with my paralytics. In theory, I could shut down her motor functions while leaving her mouth completely operational. A fascinating test—if unpredictable, since it depended on the subject’s biology.

  But Lysska just gave me a knowing look. “Unnecessary.”

  There was something about her that made me trust that assessment. A strange confidence.

  She wasn’t wrong. The mage sat statue-still, sweat beading beneath Lysska’s predatory gaze. Four allies at my back—five, counting the dragon coiling in my marrow.

  Try it, I thought. Twitch, and we’ll sculpt you into a cautionary tale.

  As the serum took hold, her pupils dited and her body tensed while Alice finally relinquished control. The mage stiffened—yet notably, did not move.

  Smart move.

  Lysska’s smile unfolded slowly, with just a hint of danger, and without hesitation, she unched into her questioning. I stepped back and let her take the lead—she was far better at this than I was.

  “Let’s dissect this rot from the root. Who hired you to harvest Tower alchemists? Speak the name before I unspool your tongue.”

  Her eyes widened further as her lips parted on their own, and she replied, “It was Thibault. He offered Korn in exchange for my services. He ordered me to capture that silver-haired drakkari—the very one now known as Alchemy Tower’s star prodigy.”

  “And the previous two?” she prodded further. “Expin exactly what you did and the specifics of your initial order.”

  She attempted to bite her lips, but they moved on their own accord. “The main order was to capture as many talented alchemists as possible. Since there was no better pce to find them than Alchemy Tower, I paid a student there to feed me intel on the various talents and schedules. Then we nabbed them when they were outside.”

  I frowned. “But it also looked like someone was directly tampering with Alchemy Tower’s business—repcing potions, ambushing carts, smuggling counterfeit ingredients.”

  Before the mage could answer, Lysska interjected, “That’s clearly a clever deflection to mask their true purpose. If Alchemy Tower’s top alchemists started vanishing, it would raise all sorts of eyebrows. Rot the Tower’s reputation, and all eyes turn to rival guilds—conveniently veiling your patron’s scent. A rather ingenious technique to divert attention. Am I wrong?”

  “No, everything you’ve said is the truth.” She had given up the fight by now, her words spilling out with a quiet mencholy.

  “Second question.” Lysska’s voice was silk wrapped around steel. “What lies beyond this portal? Spare no details—describe everything you remember from the moment you stepped through to complete your task.”

  “A castle.” The mage’s lips moved without hesitation, her gaze distant. “I don’t know exactly where it is. My role was courier: drop alchemists at the threshold. Occasionally, Thibault had me bring along some… anonymous packages, passed to me by elves. That’s about it. The inside is simple—a rge open chamber, lightly guarded, leading into a hallway. But I was never allowed past that. The portal room was as far as I went. I caught a glimpse through the windows—a fortress wall, a vast forest beyond it. Anything else is beyond my knowledge.”

  Lysska barely paused before pressing on. “The guards. Let’s start with them. I want details—whatever you noticed. Dissect them. Cores. Livery. Heraldry. Speak. Precision is key.”

  Ooh, now that was an excellent question.

  “I don’t know their exact core levels,” the mage admitted, “but my instincts told me they were at least as dangerous as I am, if not worse. High yellow core, minimum. As for their attire—matching uniforms, something structured. They bore a crest. A silver stag, mid-leap, over a shape—curved, like a crescent moon. Embroidered in gold. Beneath their armor? Crimson velvet.”

  A slow chill crept down my spine. I wasn’t the only one. Lysska’s frown deepened.

  “Valendris, House of the Silver Stag?” she murmured, suspicion curling around her words.

  Even if she hadn’t said it, I would have. These were the same bastards whose noble house ruled the borders linking Vraal’ Kor to Lithrindel. The same ones who controlled the dungeon I’d been trapped in before coming here. The same ones I suspected were working with the cultists. And after what Gwen had said about most of Lithrindel’s nobility being puppets to that divine cuckoo, I knew—knew—these people were up to no good.

  But, unfortunately, I couldn’t voice any of that to Lysska.

  “This… complicates things,” she muttered. “We can’t just waltz in to see what they’re up to. I need more intel. Maybe I can keep an eye on the elves lurking in Varkaigrad—see if they have another foothold here. This is a bde with no hilt. Charge in, and we bleed.”

  I exhaled sharply, staring at the portal. “What if we looped in the Iron Pact? They’d have to step in.”

  Lysska actually ughed.

  “Step in? Oh, they’d stomp in—boots first, ethics st,” she said, voice ced with dry amusement. “Those self-important zealots would salt the earth for leagues just to kill a rat. Don’t go thinking they’re the noble protectors of justice they used to be. My eyes caught one of their commander in diplomatic talks with an elven ambassador just a few days ago. Care to guess which house he was from?”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. Her face said it all.

  “Iron Pact’s drowning in elven coin. Alert them, and they’ll raze this district to save face.” Her ugh was bitter as wyrmroot. “Diplomats dance while commoners burn. Old song, really.”

  “Mistress…” Alice’s soft voice broke through.

  I raised an eyebrow at the doll. “You have a suggestion?”

  She nodded, her expression serene. “Allow me to infiltrate their base.”