My eyes flicked sideways as I slid into the crowd, positioning myself just beside a stall to avoid being noticed. My instincts screamed at me to bolt, but I reined them in, breathing evenly as I tracked the pair’s movement. To my immense relief, the Voruun parted ways with Whisper halfway through and disappeared into the crowd.

  I exhaled a slow, controlled sigh, easing the tension in my shoulders. Whisper had assured me they wouldn’t recognize me, but that didn’t mean I fancied taking any chances.

  Whisper, however, had no such reservations. She made a beeline toward me, tilting her head with that faintly amused smile of hers. She didn’t even bother with a detour. She knew exactly which stall I was hiding behind.

  My air sense didn’t pick up any of her feathered familiars nearby, but the chaotic swirl of movement and breath signatures in this pce made it hard to detect subtle presences. Even so, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was far too good at tracking people.

  “Got everything you needed?” she asked, her tone light as she gnced at the bag in my hand.

  “Yes, I think I got most of it.”

  Whisper nodded, clearly pleased. “Good to hear. While I’d love for you to have independent access to this market—it’s invaluable, as you’ve seen—there are limits to what I can do. They require transparency from customers about their identities, especially now. Recent… excitements demand guest ledgers. Names. Histories.”

  “That’s understandable,” I replied.

  “But,” she tapped her temple, “should needs arise, my door creaks open. I’ve a soft spot for this den of delights.”

  I nodded, though I remained guarded.

  “Ready to depart, Miss Venom?”

  The nickname curdled. Gods, had I truly thought it clever? Needed something sharper. Deadlier. Less like a tavern bard’s rejected bald.

  “After you,” I replied, falling into step behind her as we weaved through the crowd. Whisper moved with a grace that parted the chaos around her, and I did my best to follow suit until we emerged into the nearly empty hallway beyond.

  Still, one question gnawed at me, and I couldn’t resist asking. “Why recruit me?” I kept my voice a neutral bde. “What marks me trustworthy?”

  Whisper paused. Considered me with gcier calm. “Let’s call it… a calcuted gamble. Mutual advantage has its charms.”

  Alice chimed in, her tone clinical. “Truth wrapped in origami folds, mistress. She tucks cards up her sleeves.”

  Naturally. Straight lines bored her.

  “What kind of work would I need to do if I agreed?”

  “That’s something I’d only discuss once you’re on board,” Whisper said, her tone still light but firm. “All I can tell you is that it’s not the kind of work you’d be overly opposed to.”

  I frowned, mulling over her words. “Then I’ll need more time to think.”

  “Take them,” she purred. “But know—windows close. Opportunities like this don’t wait forever.”

  “So a ‘yes’ slips me in? No trials? No tests?”

  “Would that I ruled solo.” Her ugh was wind chimes in a storm. “You’ll dance for the choir. You’ll have to prove your worth to the team. Luckily…” She arched a brow. “I’ve got just the thing. Remember that kid we ran into earlier?”

  “That Rakari one? The one sniffing around for the missing detective?”

  “Exactly. How about helping me track him down? I’ve got a feeling your... particur set of skills could come in handy.”

  She was already ahead of me, striding with purpose, but I could tell her mind was spinning like a continuous spell matrix in overdrive. My crow-spotting trick had ruffled her feathers. Couldn’t bme her for being curious—or suspicious. It might’ve been her way of trying to get a better read on me. Fine by me, though. I wanted to push my limits too, especially where Alice’s divination and surface-level mind-skimming were concerned. Not mind-reading exactly—more like a knockoff version—but knowing when someone’s lying or spilling the truth? Priceless.

  I gave a small nod. “I think I could be... useful.”

  “Perfect. Same time tomorrow. We’ll start the investigation then.”

  Internal grin. Partnering with her could roast two pheasants on one spit. While we chased this lead, I could sniff out more about that elf she was investigating. Progress without signing on the dotted line with her gang? I’d take that deal any day.

  The Gilded Fang. That was the market’s name. Poetic. Controlled by the illustrious Fang Circle, whose esteemed primary members were all Tusked Voruuns. How original. Still, I couldn’t deny their influence ran deep. One nugget of intel stood out: the guy I pegged as their leader was just a squad commander, nowhere near Whisper’s level. No wonder he folded faster than wet parchment against Iron.

  The actual leader? A red core. And they had several red cores. Terrifying. Note to self: pick future targets with a bit more... precision. Whisper’s cloak shielded me today—next time, I’d need sharper knives.

  When we emerged from the underground fighting pit, the same carriage was waiting. The ride back was uneventful, barring a few subtle shifts in the route. Eventually, we ended up where we’d started: Lower District.

  Lower District’s ndmarks were its main squares, chaotic hubs that people used to navigate the byrinthine mess. We stopped at the busiest one—a market square that was alive no matter the hour.

  Whisper and I split ways there. From this point, it was a straight shot to the Middle District. But after my little spree in the market, also picking up some contraband ingredients for my test alchemical experiment (a particurly delicious poison, if I do say so myself) I was running light on funds. That poison, though. Mmm. (Doppelg?nger’s fault, really. Once you’ve sipped apocalypse, everything else’s… quaint. There’s a kick to something city-ending that you simply can’t replicate.) I might’ve dabbed my mask’s chin. Heh. Soon.

  Funds bled further by fish and biscuits for Belle—that badger’s wrath could topple kingdoms. A rickety carriage would ferry me to Alchemy Tower. Priorities: appease the cwed overlord. Sometimes I swear she leases me my dorms.

  Soon enough, I fgged down a carriage headed for the Alchemy Tower. Being such a prominent ndmark, transportation to and from there was never an issue—no matter how often I sneaked out. The rhythmic click-cck of the wheels on cobblestones kept me company as I mentally reviewed the ritual Lotte had suggested. If all went well, I’d complete it before the workday began again. It wasn’t even midnight yet, so I had time to spare.

  The click-cck eventually faded into the background as I focused, carefully visualizing each component of the ritual. When the carriage finally stopped, I paid the driver two coppers—much cheaper than flying carpets, though they certainly had their drawbacks. Slow, noisy, but serviceable.

  As I stepped into the square, the blue barrier around Alchemy Tower gleaming in the distance, my gaze snagged on someone. A Drakkari woman. We’re born with scales kissed by elegance, but she? A sonnet in the flesh. Onyx gown clinging like shadow, feathered hat crowning a face carved by starfire. A beauty that could make a moonflower wilt in envy. She was almost too beautiful, the kind of beauty that made you question whether someone had spped horns on an elf and called it a day.

  She approached the carriage with a hitch in her step—a fractional wince, a tremor in her otherwise immacute poise. The fw in her grace hooked me. Her beauty wasn’t just seen; it pulled, a lodestone humming in my marrow. My tongue moved before sense caught up:

  “Miss—your ankle. Can I assist?”

  Her smile bloomed, edged with a fragility that made my cws twitch. “A kindness, but unnecessary. Merely a stumble on cobbles.”

  Jade, you idiot. Since when do you py knight-errant for strangers? But the thought slithered away, drowned by a sudden, feverish urge to fix, to serve. A gentledragon always assists a beautiful Drakkari in need. That’s just etiquette.

  I offered my arm. Her grip was cool, scaled fingers brushing mine with a static charge. She settled into the carriage, all rustling silk and murmured thanks. The air smelled faintly of bergamot and something darker—burnt sugar? My pulse thrummed oddly, a giddy warmth pooling beneath my ribs as the wheels cttered away.

  And then it hit.

  A wave of nausea crashed over me, sharp and disorienting. I staggered slightly, clutching my head.

  “Mistress, snap out of it!” Alice’s voice rang in my mind like a bell, jolting me.

  “What—what’s going on?” I stammered, disoriented.

  Alice’s blindfold, stitched with glowing runes of golden thread, was shimmering ominously. Though she had no eyes, I could feel her focus locked on the carriage disappearing into the distance.

  “That woman,” Alice said. “She’s dangerous. A Three-yered charm. Subtle. Brutal. Keyed to altruism, not lust—clever.”

  Another wave of nausea rippled through me, and I swayed as my thoughts turned sluggish.

  “Apologies for the discomfort, Mistress,” Alice continued. “I’m clearing the remnants of her charm from your mental sea.”

  “Charm?” The realization hit me like a punch. My thoughts churned, rewinding to our encounter. The beauty, the inexplicable pull, the compulsion to help her—it wasn’t natural. I’d been maniputed, pin and simple.

  “What the fuck?” I hissed, anger and embarrassment bubbling up.

  “A valid reaction, Mistress,” Alice replied, unbothered. “Though it didn’t seem she was discriminatory in her use of it. The charm coiled around her like a viper, sparing no one. A broadcasted aura. Not personal. The carriage driver wept as she passed. A street child offered his st bread.”

  My breath caught as my gaze lingered on the direction the carriage had gone, my mind racing. “What the hell was wrong with that woman? And when she answered me—was she lying?”

  Alice’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. “I only detected undercurrents of truth, Mistress. Something likely happened to her, and she did injure her leg.”

  Her words didn’t calm me. My mind snapped back to my first impression, the nagging unease cwing at me. That lithe frame, the tapered horns—disguise? But the fugitive was male. Unless...

  My cws bit into the parchment-wrapped ingredients, crinkling vials of powders and herbs. The woman’s carriage wheels still echoed in my skull. Follow her. The impulse fizzed like alchemical fire—reckless, alluring.

  “Stalking’s off the menu, yes?” I growled, already tasting the futility.

  Alice’s blindfold pulsed golden. “A viper’s den awaits in her wake. You ck antidotes, Mistress.”

  “But what if it’s him in disguise?” The words tumbled out, unbidden, my voice rising. “The Elf who was attacked at the Gilded Fang—That tree-polishing bastard who puppeteered an entire caravan to slit their own throats? That…” I gestured sharply. “That ease he’d have charming a dragon into fetching his slippers!”

  Alice stayed silent—a verdict.

  “If it is him, he’ll change his disguise again,” I muttered, frustration boiling over.

  The truth gnawed at me like a wound left to fester—I wasn’t ready. Weak, far too weak. If this was the Elf, his sheer presence alone was enough to bend my will like a twig in a gale. Chasing him would be like tugging a thread and unraveling chaos itself. Gwen’s warnings echoed in my head.

  Bitterly, I let out a long sigh, forcing myself to look away from where the carriage had disappeared.

  “Do not despair, Mistress,” Alice said gently. “We’ve gained valuable information. This was your first encounter with this Elf. Divination might reveal more, and I have questions for my new creator that may yield further insight.”

  I snorted. “Good luck getting anything out of Lotte.” Even as I said it, Alice’s words gave me a sliver of comfort. Turning into a nearby alley, I ducked out of sight.

  With practiced ease, I stripped out of my clothes and shifted into my dragon form. My silver scales shimmered in the dim light as I carefully stashed my belongings—along with Alice—in my jaws. A quick burst of focus, and I phased into the Shadow Dimension, its distorted, mirror-like world wrapping around me.

  Alice was right. This wasn’t a loss, just a first step. Not retreat, reconnaissance. If that woman was the Elf, then I’d confirmed just how dangerous he could be. Divination might give me a thread to pull, and Lysska would definitely want to know about this encounter.

  A toothy grin split my maw. Oh, I’d return to this night—to the woman’s bergamot stench and too-perfect ankles. But first…

  I needed strength. For myself—and for those around me.

  A feral grin tugged at my lips as I emerged into my room. It was time to make Belle my supplicant.