Sometimes I still blush at how slowly I reacted back then. Next to me Blood had her rapiers in her hands so fast I could almost hear the air hiss. Across the table Ara, who had until then been apparently unarmed, produced a pair of daggers from thin air with the grace and élan of a stage magician. Skull simply slipped a hand into vest and looked over my shoulder, not quite as intimidating as the other two at face value but I could hear the ticking the clockwork grenade she had just primed, generally agreed to have all the stopping power of a enraged mother bear being shot out of a cannon.

  I stood there for a second entirely bemused and befuddled by the change from friendly commiseration to frantic attentiveness. Then I stopped gawking like a country girl seeing her first city and spun to see... nothing. Not nothing as in “nothing apart from the barely visible figure in the corner” or the nothing of “an empty window and a retreating shadow” I mean literally nothing apart from an old cupboard missing one of its doors.

  I lowered my mace (which I had rather belatedly raised) and glanced around nervously. After a few seconds I felt Skull move up next to me (Blood had given me her special training now so I could feel people looking at me... it's nicer than it sounds... really) whilst Blood circled the edge of the room staring into shadows and peering under tables. After a moment I looked up at Ara, who was hovering protectively over me, then across at Skull who shrugged. Turning back to the empty air I cleared my throat and spoke.

  “Uh... Yes?”

  Not exactly my greatest turn of phrase but come on I was talking to thin air.

  “Ah yes good I wasn't sure this would work...” The voice now I could hear more of it was... odd. Female and smooth as syrup with the perfect elocution of a noble (or at least a fine education) but it had a strange cadence to it, an echo, like we were hearing the words spoken from the bottom of a deep well.

  The most worrying part though was that I still couldn't figure out where the unseen speaker was speaking from, my ears were telling me the voice was coming directly from the empty space in front of me. “Look I don't have much time...” the voice faded away as if the speaker was leaving then suddenly snapped back into audibility, “...I can't keep this up for long. Inquisitor Nightsbane is after you and he’s got a platoon of pyre-guards and a black barge with him; and he knows where you are. You need to run NOW!” And with that the voice stopped instantly, it didn't even leave an echo.

  If I had thought my heart was beating hard before now it was threatening to hammer its way out of my chest I could feel sick rising in my throat as I remembered... Nightsbane... the apprentice from all those years ago, now all grown up and one of the worst of the Inquisition[133] from what I’d heard. I nearly collapsed but I managed to keep myself upright mainly thanks to Ara slipping a surreptitious grey hand under my shoulder.

  I knew it wasn't normal to react to the Inquisition like this but after what happened to my family I really don't like them. You know if you see like... a spider or something and you just freak out it’s like that. Skull has a word for it that even my classical education never taught me...photoboardian?[134]

  I turned to the others and snapped. “Ok no more debating or plans let’s go NOW!”

  Blood nodded and turned to the trophy cabinet, smashed its top in with an elbow before I could react. She began rummaging through it removing the choicest pieces and stashing them in a bag she produced from her pocket.

  Skull shook her head and muttered, “so we just believe a disembodied voice?” But even as she criticised us she dashed towards the stairs and vanished up to her room where I heard the sound of rustling paper and slamming draws.

  Ara for her part didn't immediately burst into action instead she glanced at me and hooked a thumb over her shoulder towards the two looters. “Do you want anything from here?”

  I giggled nervously and shook... all over but I had only intended to shake my head. “No no I just want to leave, Blood will grab anything valuable and Skull anything incriminating then we can go; and quickly.”

  Before I could follow up on those words Skull pelted down the stairs, her arms full of loose leaf paper, “we’ve got company!” She bellowed as she half stumbled off the bottom step spilling documents everywhere. “It’s a black barge! That weird voice was telling the truth; it’s coming up the canal!”

  “How do you know?” asked Ara, her voice only vaguely interested without a trace of the panic that was clawing its way down my throat and into my lungs. “We don't have any windows. Did you have one put in?”

  “I’ve stashed mirror shards on the rooftops around here... and down in our escape tunnel... along the waterfront stalls... in the canal walls.... most places really.”

  “That's both impressive and scary,” said Ara with a sly smile. “You haven’t got any in our rooms have you?”

  Skull seemed to radiate blush. “What... I... I'm... I'm not going to peep on my best friend you... you are insufferable!” Ara just laughed and winked at her.

  “You’re really cute when you’re angry.”

  Skull threw a book at her as Blood arrived back.

  “Uh... what’s going on?”

  Ara shrugged. “Skull says the Inquisitions here.”

  Before we could say anything else Skull reached into her sleeve and pulled out a beautiful clasp mirror. It was a real work of art a 907th eon Du’varly if I'm any judge (and I really am, believe me, my father made sure of that hours and hours of “guess the artisan” in the treasure room, I honestly think if we’d had any heirloom knives I’d have stabbed him at some point) with incredible fine gilt filigree all over its surface.

  Pausing to make sure she had our attention Skull flicked it open and held it up. “I’m pretty sure this will work.” She said with a slight grunt of effort.

  As before us the mirrored surface rippled and writhed, our reflections deforming more and more grotesquely before, with an extremely faint chime and an unaccountable scent of liquorice, they changed entirely. Now we were looking at the canal outside our hidden base.

  The sun was still hours from rising and only one gibbous sister was hanging in the sky casting her pale light across the night shrouded city of Prasus, combined with the guttering glow of a handful of dimly visible streetlights it was just enough to see by. For a long moment I couldn't see anything but darkness then I realised, the darkness was moving. In the distance; lights were eclipsed momentarily as something pitch black glided across in front of them. I knew what it was of course but I still flinched as a candle glow caught its metal and made it shine.

  The sun was still hours from rising and only one sister was hanging in the sky, aided by a handful of guttering street lanterns she tried valiantly to illuminate the deep night turning it into a shadowy sort of fog that stung the eyes to see. In this strange clinging haze of light and darkness I could see a depthless blackness moving. It was so dark I could only see it by seeing where its bulk blackened distant lights, eclipsing them as it slid past. I knew what it was but still I nearly yelped when it glided past a distant lantern and we saw light flash off painted metal and shining blades.

  A black barge the feared personal transports of the Inquisition designed specifically to move around Prasus’ canal system and deliver platoons of pyre-guard to the doorstep of anyone who opposed the Arch-Doge. It also came with a pre-built gallows on the top deck and an oil soaked stake for burning heretics alive.

  I could say it was ominous looking but I would be lying. It was just so ostentatiously over the top in every conceivable way that it bypassed scary and went straight to ridiculous, I mean there were spikes on fake metal skulls which then had their own spikes on which ALSO had skulls on. I'm sure it was supposed to be intimidating but all I could think was “how does that thing even float?”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  As we watched the mirrored surface shimmered slightly and the viewpoint changed to a windowsill on the other side of the street, the wooden frame just visible in the peripheral edges of the mirror.

  “Shouldn’t we be running?” I asked desperately.

  “They might not know exactly where we are...,” began Skull as the black barge drew to a stop. “See they’ve docked halfway up the river.”

  “I still don't think we should be waiting here!” I squealed, my voice nearly breaking with nervousness.

  Skull looked up at me for a second and her pose softened noticeably. “You are right of course Bright, I apologise, my curiosity got the better of me... Let’s go.”

  I sighed in relief and led the charge up the stairs where we piled into one of the seemingly unused rooms on the second floor. We crowded in all at once Skull and Ara stood by the door as I paced the floor and Blood rushed to a huge old wardrobe that sat incongruously in the corner of the empty space. After a moment spent cursing the lack of handholds she got a grip on the piece of bulky stolen furniture and dragged it away from the wall revealing a ragged hole in the plaster.

  “Let’s go already!” Sang Blood waved us by her then dragging the wardrobe back into place. The rough hewn room beyond was originally meant to be a staircase up to the attic but when the district fell it still wasn't finished so they had just sealed it up. Blood told me she’d been “practising” (with what she refused to say) when she’d broken the wall open and found the ladder. Luckily for us Earln wood is pretty sturdy even after years of darkness and damp but it still creaked and groaned ominously as we climbed.

  When I arrived at the stale dead attic Skull had already lit a lantern and was waiting for us by a section of exposed roof tiling. Outside these looked perfectly normal but from inside one could easily see that they lacked the wooden support struts of the rest of the roof meaning that the entire plate of porcelain tiles could simply be lifted outwards and dropped onto the street below.

  To the sound of Blood kicking the ladder into scrap wood behind us I darted over to the trick roof section and helped Ara leaver it out of its housing. For a handful of painfully long seconds we sweated and panted over the architecture then, without warning, the mould of eons gave way and the mass of tiles jerked upwards. For a moment we staggered back and forth then I went to throw it out onto the street.

  “Don't!” hissed Skull urgently, “they’ll hear it,” even as she said that she blew her lantern out leaving us only the sickly light of the single sister and the distant sputtering street lanterns to guide our way. “Just drop it on the floor and let’s go.”

  As we followed Skulls directions she reached into her sleeve again and withdrew the mirror. Whilst we set the rack of shingle down ever so gently she squinted into the tiny sliver of glass for a moment and then cursed.

  “What’s gone wrong now?” Asked Ara the husky bur of her accent was deeper than normal and her voice held no trace of its usual good humour.

  Skull hissed in anger and held the mirror to face the three of us again. “The Inquisitor and his mob have spread out across the street and they’ve got line of sight on our roof, the second we leave they’ll see us.” I just stared at the other three, feeling horror fill my lungs with ice.

  “You mean we’re trapped?” I squealed utterly terrified.

  Skull flinched slightly obviously wishing she’d phrased it differently but not able to disagree, Ara just shrugged unhappily as I turned my gaze to her but Blood... well Blood literally never gives up.

  “Not yet,” she whispered with an audible grin, “I’ll find us a way out, I'm the smallest and the stealthiest so they won’t notice me,” as she said this she looked over at me and patted me on the shoulder. “Chin up Bright... we’ll get through this.” And with that she was gone over the lip and out onto the moonlit rooftop.

  For a moment we all held our breath but there were no sounds of alarm or pursuit, turning back to the mirror with a muttered “how does she do that?” Skull began to scry the street outside and lacking any other distraction I leant on her shoulder and looked into the mirror as well. (I think I rather annoyed her but she was too kind to point this out[135]). Ara crowded in as well leading Skull to sigh and hold the mirror up higher so everyone could get a good view.

  As we watched the shining surface swum and we saw the street outside once again, just like before it was dim and dark but this time it was also filled with soldiers; a good two dozen pyre-guards who had were spread out around the moored barge lead by... by an Inquisitor.

  Now at the time I was too terrified to really notice any details but Skull wasn't so I’ve borrowed some of her journals and gotten a proper description.

  He wore the traditional voluminous dark grey robes of an Inquisitor; long enough to cover the ankles but hemmed above the floor. His woollen smock was nearly obscured by the seven long billowing sashes which wound around it; each a different colour and material, some were matte, some see-through, some speckled with glittering gems. Along his arms and legs ran the traditional jolnek fighting blades of the Inquisition, long steel cutting blades attached to the flat of his forearm and back of his shin and on his chest sat the symbol of his office, an Arcanum.

  As for the man himself, he was much as I remembered him, tall and lithe like a dancer with long raven black hair tied in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon. All in all he looked like a young noble out on a tear about the dark side of town but the second you saw his eyes you couldn't mistake him for anything other than an inquisitor, they were dead and cold inside like the eyes of man who can already see you dead... and likes what he sees.

  Clustered around him were other shapes, all smaller than him. These were obviously inquisitorial initiates (and thus all pure humans), there were two males and two females all of about our age. The boys both looked similar enough to be twins both short and stocky with pale skin and muscular builds whilst the girls looked almost nothing alike. The first was tall and thin with porcelain skin like a noble and looked nearly undernourished whilst the second the shortest of the group, she had deep black skin and leanly muscled limbs and she seemed; alert. All four of the initiates had their hair shaved down to nothing more than head fuzz and all four wore masks.

  Now Nightsbane didn't of course, in fact he was often fawned over by a certain kind of noble woman for his appearance and so I had been forced to listen to far too many descriptions of his countenance whilst on the hunt for my liking. But the lesser initiates did all four of their faces hide behind white porcelain death masks of saints with wide open eyes and disapprovingly pursed lips.

  It was tradition that initiates hid their faces from the mages they hunted so that they couldn't be cursed, the same reason in fact that they replaced their original names with saints names (Did you think Nightsbane was born Nightsbane?).

  Only Inquisitors faced battle bare skinned since they had mastered all seven cycles of the Art and could block such curses... or some such nonsense honestly most of this is second hand information I got from... well... someone you’re going to meet soon enough.

  Anyway, back to the story. I remember I was just looking at the initiates and wondering whether I could take even one down on my own; when Nightsbane stepped back inside the black barge and emerged with a pack of gryshk straining on the end of a dozen long metal leads. The tracking cats fought each other as they tumbled down the barges gangplank and onto the street then Nightsbane barked a command at them in a language I couldn’t understand causing them to part gracefully and stare at him, after a moment he gestured up the street and snapped off another sentence in that strange hissing tongue[136]. The gryshk exploded into motion dashing away into the darkness dragging Nightsbane after them. I could hear their muted hissing echoing across the rooftops and through the hole in our wall (Skulls' mirrors see greatly but they can't hear, luckily this wasn't a problem for long).

  As the sound got closer and closer I felt myself tensing. No I remember thinking No please Koth no no no please don't know where we are but of course they did. On the pavement outside our hideout the gryshk stopped, fought on another for a second, then sniffed deeply and pointed their snouts directly at our home.

  I began to hyperventilate, sucking in the raw cold predawn air as Skull swore vociferously next to me. If I hadn't been having a panic attack I’m sure I would have blushed bright red; for a noble woman she knew a plethora of words that I didn't even know existed and would have preferred never to learn. Ara seemed to find the hilarity greater than the danger of our current situation and was oscillating between silent professionalism and barely suppressed giggles as Skulls smooth cultured voice hissed and peaked as she outlined the proclivities of the Arch-Doge’s mother in relation to large sailors.

  As her tirade began to wind down the pyre-guard finished stamping to a halt outside the visible door to our hideout... remember that our base was the second unfinished building shell attached to the back of a (once) fully furnished building. Yes, all the furniture had by now been stolen, burned or in some cases eaten but the house itself still stood and worked as effective camouflage since people’s eyes just skipped over the windowless rear half and focused on the nearly burned out front.

  So you can understand it was with some amusement[137] that we watched the feared and supposedly smart Inquisitor lead his trail of initiates up to our decoy door. There he silently raised a hand with all five fingers extended[138] slowly he began to lower them, one by one, as the guards drew their swords and the initiates readied their fighting blades. As his last finger fell Nightsbane kicked the door inwards and with a sudden explosion of noise and movement the Purity Knights charged into the building... at the time it didn't occur to me that I couldn't see Nightsbane anymore.

  [133] Inquisitor Nightsbane, sometimes called the Doges Bloodhound, was truly notorious (amongst mages) and beloved (amongst the common people). He was famous for his brutal tactics and incredible persistence at one point even sailing to a neighbouring city state simply to burn to death the distant uncle of a mage he killed.

  [134] Phobia. Bright's reaction to Inquisitors has always been extreme but none of us have ever begrudged her that even before we knew why, we’re friends after all... we just try to make sure someone is standing behind her to catch her if she faints.

  [135] Less kind and more able to see that she was on the edge of a panic attack.

  [136] This was the secret tongue of the Inquisition generally known as gear speak. By the end of our second eon fighting together I had grown truly sick of being yelled at in it. However on the plus side I did eventually learn to speak a sentence in it. “Silasis Sora Nihiloto.” which translates roughly to “Stop them before they get away.”

  [137] We were amused. Brights obviously chose not to write down exactly what she was doing at this moment which was having a panic attack and trying to crawl under the roof shingle, poor girl.

  [138] Four and the thumb... and just a note to Blood when she reads this no matter how many times you threaten to set my hair on fire these will not stop being the correct anatomical labels.