Lyssa smiled. “It’s the life of a Torch. Tedious terror.” She chuckled. “It doesn’t lend itself well to cocktail parties and witty discussions about Rembrandt.” She looked around at the paintings. “Do you have any Rembrandts?”
“No.” Caroline smiled.
Lyssa chuckled. “I don’t get to go after peaceful art lovers, and I’d love it if the people I went after would surrender when I show up, but it always ends up a loud conversation. At least I haven’t shot anyone lately. And the ones I did all had it coming.”
“I see,” Caroline replied. “I’m not much for violence as a problem-solving tool, but I’m impressed with you. It’s not that often that a Torch takes down a rogue with such ease.”
“I might not be an assassin, but I don’t want Eclipses to have all the fun,” Lyssa replied. She did her best to inject an amusement she didn’t feel into her tone. “And I had help.”
“So I heard. Aisha Khatri.” Caroline’s smiled verged on condescending. “Another surprise, given your well-known strained relationship. Curious.”
Lyssa shrugged. “Sometimes it’s easiest to give an angry person another target for their rage. And she’s not so bad when she’s not threatening to kill me.”
Caroline cocked her head to the side but said nothing else. The unpleasant silence stretched out.
Lyssa wasn’t sure what it meant. Caroline’s regalia allowed her to see despite her blindfold, but it robbed her conversation partners of the subtle cues about the conversation. They hadn’t had a conversation in years without Caroline wearing her regalia.
Lyssa asked, “What’s this about? Did you need help with something on the violent side of things? I can’t promise anything, and I’ll have to run it by Samuel.”
“Nothing so unpleasant, I assure you.” Caroline’s smile dimmed. “A request came through from Last Remnant. They have a message for you.”
Lyssa’s stomach knotted, and she took a deep breath.
“About what?” Lyssa asked.
“They neglected to share the contents of the message with me. I was told to have you contact them directly and not share details of the message with anyone else.”
Lyssa’s heart rate kicked up. No one on the hidden island home of the Sorcerers idly contacted the outside world without a good reason. Orders from the Tribunal or other general Society business were routed through Elders, who would then talk to those in their area of responsibility.
This had to be something personal. This could be it. They’d finally found her brother.
“Okay,” Lyssa agreed. “This sounds important.”
She’d never given up hope, and the revelations from her last case proved her brother hadn’t died the day everyone claimed. The Tribunal and other Elders likely already knew that and were hiding the truth to cover up some mistake or plot on their part.
Even if they didn’t know about the mysterious memory card she’d recovered, with pictures of Illuminated in and out of their regalia, they might know she had taken down a rogue with dangerous information. Whatever schemes or reasons they had to conceal her brother might have fallen apart.
Caroline opened the door and held out a white-gloved hand. “Please follow me. I’ll take you to the far whisper chamber.”
Chapter Two
Fifteen minutes later, Lyssa’s patience frayed when they wandered through the same hallway a third time. She recognized the paintings and the subtle differences in the striations on the hardwood floors. The constant sorcery coming from Caroline was the reason for their walking in circles, but that didn’t mean Lyssa liked it.
“Do we need to go through this?” she asked. “This mental maze stuff is impressive and all, but I’m kind of in a hurry. I think this is a more important message than you realize.”
“You’re always in a hurry,” Caroline said, her voice remaining soft. “I’ve been entrusted with this special shard. I must do what I can to protect it. All of us can be manipulated, even you. Precautions are necessary. I would hope a Torch could understand that.”
“Fine.” Lyssa sighed. “I’m sorry. Just impatient.”
“Of course. I mean nothing personal by it.”
“Understood.”
They arrived at a plain-looking door after another painful and repetitive five minutes. Someone without sorcery invading the home might have mistaken the door for an out-of-the-way utility closet except for the conspicuous lack of a door handle. Sometimes the most obvious tactics could help protect things.
Caroline pressed her hand against the door and chanted in Latin. The wood sank in, the disruption spreading unevenly. New dips traced complex sigils. A handle grew from the door.
“It’s ready,” Caroline said, inclining her head toward it. “Prepare yourself.”
Lyssa pulled her mask out of her pocket and donned it. She dropped the disguise on her regalia, reverting to the nearly all-black Night Goddess form, the only contrast the white of her skeletal mask.
“Hmm,” Caroline murmured.
“What?” Lyssa reached for the door handle. “Something wrong?” She looked around, but there was no one else in sight.
“You’re a strange woman, Lyssa,” Caroline replied. “I always find myself wondering if your regalia matches your truth. It seems off somehow.”
“My darkness essence disagrees with you?” Lyssa asked.
Caroline smiled thinly. “There is more about our fundamental truths than our essences.”
“Sure. Whatever you say. I’m not that philosophical.” Lyssa pulled open the door. “And I’ve got a message to hear.”
Caroline nodded. “I hope it’s good news.”
“So do I.”
With her regalia mask on, the darkness of the room didn’t bother Lyssa. She entered and carefully walked toward the center, taking care not to disturb the complex web of enchanted strings crisscrossing the area.
Not all shards were weapons. Some, like the room, were complicated combinations of sorcery requiring multiple Sorcerers to create. It was worth it to have a direct line to Last Remnant that didn’t rely on Shadow technology.
Lyssa took a deep breath and spoke the activation incantation. The strings whined before going silent, but their
