Hekate's expression sharpened. "Earlier than probability suggested. Thy treatment has drawn attention."

  I rose quickly, reaching for my sword belt. "How? No one but Willem and my mother know about the Sisters."

  "The currents speak to those who listen," she said cryptically. "And thy connection to the node beneath us has not gone unnoticed."

  She glided to the door with surprising speed, pressing her palm against the wood. Her eyes closed briefly, then opened with new urgency.

  "Four riders. One carries instruments of detection—crude but effective. They seek resonance patterns matching the blue serum."

  Another knock, more insistent. "My lord! They're demanding entrance in the name of the Royal Health Commission!"

  I swore under my breath. The Phoenix Collective had no authority to invoke the Commission without evidence of illegal healing activities—which meant they either had such evidence or were confident enough to bluff.

  "We need to get you out of here," I told Hekate. "If they find an unregistered healing practitioner—"

  "I shall remain," she said calmly, reaching into her habit to withdraw several of the small tokens. "They shall find nothing amiss."

  "You don't understand. The Phoenix Collective doesn't follow normal regulatory procedures. They're practically a law unto themselves."

  "And I am far older than their laws." Something dangerous flashed in her pale eyes. "Besides, I carry thy pain now. It would be remiss to leave before determining if it might serve a purpose."

  Before I could argue further, she made a strange gesture with the tokens in her hand. The air in the chamber seemed to thicken, and the persistent awareness of currents I'd felt since Circe's treatment suddenly vanished—not gone, but muffled, as though behind a heavy curtain.

  "Open the door," she instructed. "They will find nothing but a lord troubled by old wounds and his distant cousin, a reserved widow paying a family visit."

  I hesitated only briefly before complying. As the door swung open, I found Willem outside, fist raised for another knock, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion.

  "The Phoenix representatives," he reported. "They insist on inspecting the premises for—" He stopped, noticing Hekate for the first time. His hand moved instinctively toward his knife.

  "Cousin Hekate," I said smoothly, the lie coming easier than expected. "Thank you for your concern regarding my old injury. The herbal compress you suggested is already providing relief."

  Willem's eyes narrowed slightly, but he caught on quickly. "The visitors, my lord?"

  "Show them to the main hall. I'll join shortly with my cousin, who has some experience with medicinal herbcraft. Perhaps she can suggest remedies for their journey."

  After Willem departed, looking back with lingering suspicion, I turned to Hekate. "This is madness. If they have detection instruments—"

  "They seek what no longer resides within thee," she interrupted. "And as for myself..." She rolled back her sleeve slightly, showing how the transferred blue patterns had already begun to darken and fade, transforming into what looked like ordinary veins. "I process such energies with considerable efficiency."

  "Even so, the Phoenix Collective doesn't make social calls to minor nobles without purpose."

  "Precisely why we must understand that purpose." She adjusted her habit, somehow transforming her appearance from mysterious practitioner to austere gentlewoman through posture alone. "The eyes that witness pain can also witness intention."

  As we descended to the main hall, I felt strangely calm despite the danger. Whatever Hekate had done during the transference had left me more centered, my thoughts clearer than they had been in days.

  ***

  The Phoenix Collective representatives waited in the hall—three men in the organization's distinctive white and gold uniforms, and a fourth in scholar's robes carrying what appeared to be a brass device resembling an astrolabe. Their leader, a sharp-featured man with the immaculate grooming that only substantial wealth can maintain, stepped forward with practiced authority.

  "Lord Greywers. Inspector Caldwell of the Phoenix Collective, operating under Royal Health Commission authority." He presented a scroll bearing the Commission's seal. "We're investigating reports of unregistered healing activities in this region."

  "Reports from whom?" I asked, accepting the scroll without opening it.

  "That information is protected under regulatory statute," he replied smoothly. "We're required to investigate all credible allegations of non-standard treatment, particularly those involving exposure to unclassified alchemical substances."

  His gaze moved to Hekate, who had positioned herself slightly behind me, the perfect picture of a reserved female relation.

  "And this is...?" he inquired.

  "My cousin, Lady Hekate Ravenclaw," I said, the false title falling naturally from my lips. "Visiting from the eastern provinces."

  Hekate curtseyed with perfect decorum, eyes modestly downcast. Only I noticed how her fingers briefly brushed against the small tokens sewn into her sleeve—a gesture almost like counting.

  Inspector Caldwell nodded perfunctorily before turning to the scholar with the device. "Dr. Creswell, if you would proceed with the standard assessment."

  The scholarly man stepped forward, raising his instrument. It consisted of concentric brass rings that rotated independently, with a central crystal that glowed with a faint amber light. As he moved it in a slow arc around the room, the rings adjusted themselves automatically.

  "Standard procedure," Inspector Caldwell explained with the false consideration of someone who expects compliance. "The resonance detector identifies traces of unauthorized magical energies—particularly those associated with unregistered practitioners."

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  I maintained a relaxed posture despite my internal tension. "Of course. Though I should mention I'm due at court in just a few days. Any delay would be... noted by those who extended the invitation."

  A subtle reminder that despite my house's diminished status, I wasn't entirely without connections.

  The scholar completed his circuit of the room, frowning at his instrument. "Nothing significant in this chamber. Background resonance only, consistent with the age of the structure."

  "And Lord Greywers himself?" Caldwell prompted.

  Dr. Creswell turned the device toward me. The rings spun briefly before settling into a configuration that apparently meant nothing of interest, judging by his disappointed expression.

  "No active energies," he reported. "Some residual traces consistent with standard Royal Corps field treatment for battlefield injuries."

  Caldwell's eyes narrowed slightly. "And the lady?"

  As the device turned toward Hekate, I held my breath. She remained perfectly still, her expression mild and unconcerned. The rings spun, hesitated, then continued their rotation without settling.

  "The device appears to be experiencing interference," Dr. Creswell muttered, tapping the crystal at its center. "Possibly environmental factors."

  "Or operator error," Hekate suggested, her voice modulated to gentle politeness, all archaic phrasing gone. "Such delicate instruments often require precise calibration, particularly in rural areas where natural energies flow less... predictably."

  Dr. Creswell bristled slightly at the implied criticism but continued adjusting his device without comment.

  As he worked, I noticed something odd—a thin sheen of sweat had appeared on Hekate's brow, and her fingers were now wrapped tightly around whatever tokens she held concealed in her palm.

  She was doing something—actively interfering with the detection somehow, and it was costing her considerable effort.

  "Perhaps we should continue this inspection tomorrow," I suggested, moving slightly to block Caldwell's view of Hekate. "After your people have had time to rest and properly calibrate their equipment."

  "That won't be necessary," Caldwell said curtly. "Dr. Creswell, the targeted assessment?"

  The scholar nodded, making a final adjustment to his device. The amber crystal at its center darkened to a deep orange, and the rings locked into a fixed position. Whatever this configuration was, it clearly represented some escalation in their search.

  Dr. Creswell pointed the device at Hekate once more.

  What happened next occurred so quickly I nearly missed it. Hekate's hand tightened around her hidden tokens, and the scholarly man suddenly gasped, doubling over as though struck. The device fell from his hands, clattering to the stone floor where one of its delicate rings bent noticeably.

  "Creswell?" Caldwell moved to his colleague, who was now clutching his chest, face contorted in pain.

  "My... heart," the scholar managed. "Can't... breathe..."

  Willem immediately stepped forward. "I'll fetch water."

  "And our surgeon," I added, playing the concerned host. "He has experience with such episodes."

  Hekate moved with surprising quickness, kneeling beside the stricken man. "Allow me," she said, taking his wrist with practiced efficiency. "My late husband suffered similar attacks. I recognize the symptoms."

  As her fingers touched his skin, the scholar's breathing gradually eased, his expression clearing from panic to confusion.

  "The pain... it's gone," he said, sounding bewildered.

  "A vagal response," Hekate explained smoothly. "Triggered by exhaustion and stress. Common among scholars who neglect their physical needs in favor of intellectual pursuits."

  Her tone carried the gentle chiding of a matron, but her eyes met mine briefly over the scholar's head—cold, clear, and unmistakably satisfied.

  She had done this—somehow using the pain she'd absorbed from me to briefly inflict similar distress on the man, then just as quickly relieved it to establish her cover as a helpful relative.

  "Perhaps this is a sign your investigation should continue tomorrow," I suggested again, "after your colleague has properly rested."

  Caldwell hesitated, clearly reluctant to abandon his mission but equally concerned about his associate's condition.

  "Very well," he conceded finally. "We'll resume at daybreak. But I must insist that no one leaves the premises until our inspection is complete."

  "Of course," I agreed readily. "Willem will show your men to suitable quarters."

  After the Phoenix representatives had been escorted away, Hekate and I returned to my chambers in silence. Only when the door closed behind us did she sag slightly, the perfect posture giving way to evident exhaustion.

  "That was..." I struggled for words.

  "Necessary," she supplied, sinking into a chair. "The instrument would have detected the transferred energies had I not redirected them temporarily."

  "Into their scholar," I finished. "You gave him my pain."

  "A fraction only, and briefly." She opened her palm, revealing several small objects—a button, a coin, and what appeared to be a child's tooth. "The tokens hold echoes of specific pains. I merely allowed him to experience what others have endured under Phoenix Collective 'care'."

  "You can weaponize suffering," I realized. "Not just absorb it."

  Her pale eyes met mine, ancient and uncompromising. "All healing arts are double-edged, Lord Greywers. Even conventional treatments can harm when misapplied."

  She rose, clearly intending to leave despite her fatigue. "The Phoenix Collective seeks more than regulatory compliance. Their interest in thee is specific and deliberate."

  "Because of the blue serum?"

  "Because of what it awakened." She moved to the window, where the storm had finally passed, leaving a star-filled sky. "Thy ancestral talents would be invaluable to an organization facing resource shortages."

  "What talents? I can barely understand what's happening to me."

  Hekate turned, her expression softening slightly. "Thou art learning to walk the old paths again—to see the currents that flow beneath the world and, eventually, to direct them. Such abilities would allow access to energy sources conventional methods cannot reach."

  "And that's valuable because...?"

  "Because the commercial mana wells are running dry," she said simply. "The great healing houses have depleted natural reserves faster than they replenish. They now seek alternatives—including the old methods they once mocked as primitive."

  She reached into her habit and produced a small item wrapped in cloth, placing it on my desk.

  "When thou hast need, unwrap this. It shall provide temporary concealment from detection devices."

  I didn't ask what it contained. Some questions are better left unasked when dealing with practitioners who absorb pain through mystical eyes on their back.

  "The Phoenix Collective will return at dawn," I reminded her. "With functioning equipment and more questions."

  "They shall find nothing but an empty chamber and lingering confusion." She moved toward the door, pausing with her hand on the latch. "Thy treatment cycle is complete for now, but the awakening has only begun. Sister Morgana calculated a seventy-three percent probability of further Phoenix interest."

  "Meaning our paths will cross again."

  "Indeed. Though perhaps under more structured arrangements." Her smile held surprising warmth. "Administrator Thorne prepares the necessary documentation even now."

  With that cryptic statement, she slipped out the door, leaving me alone with more questions than answers—and the distinct impression that my relationship with the Sisters of the Twilight Covenant was evolving from patient and healers to something far more complex and binding.

  Outside, the stars shone with unusual clarity after the storm. As I watched from my window, I could have sworn I saw three figures moving across the courtyard below—not walking but gliding, as though carried by currents invisible to ordinary eyes.

  By morning, there would be no trace of Sister Hekate Ravenclaw, nor any evidence that the Twilight Covenant had ever breached regulatory protocols within my walls.

  But the knowledge she had transferred remained, along with the unsettling certainty that I had not hired healers so much as entangled myself with forces operating at the boundaries of a world I was only beginning to perceive.

  And the Phoenix Collective, it seemed, wanted access to that world as badly as I needed to understand it.