Despite my best efforts, Oliver refused to engage in anything resembling meaningful conversation.

  “Haven’t we talked enough today already?” he said at one point. “With words coming out, the cake cannot go in.”

  To be fair, that was wisdom at its finest.

  He didn’t exactly eat his share, though. He poked at the half I’d reserved for him with a fork, and parts of it dissolved without ever nearing his lips. His attention remained fixed on the door rather than anything in the room.

  “Are you waiting for someone?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Then… Um…”

  “I’m listening to gossip,” he muttered with an irritated sigh. “Nothing of any—”

  He suddenly straightened, and everything cake-related vanished in a puff of black smoke.

  “Why?!” I blurted as the door slammed open.

  I wasn’t even halfway through my portion!

  “Volker!” Nora shouted as I stood up. “He was—wait, why do you look so guilty?”

  I rubbed my face, just in case there were any telltale crumbs. “Nothing. But what about that former dark mage?”

  The jerk who used me as a human shield during the battle between the Order of Blue and Silver? Didn't he learn his lesson the first time?

  “He stopped by a little while ago,” Oliver said as Nora dropped into her chair. “Not that anyone here could assist with his affliction. Jasper, predictably, didn’t lift a finger: no profit in it. And Landon wouldn’t dare oppose His Holiness directly, so he slunk off.”

  “Where were you half an hour ago?” Nora demanded. “Before I started tearing through all the reports?”

  Oliver shrugged, slouching deeper into his seat. “You were going to do so anyway.” He toyed with the edge of his sleeve, then glanced at me. “I imagine Volker will seek out a demon to bargain for a shred of his former talent. A doomed endeavor, of course. His bargaining position is laughable at best.” He paused, frowning. “Though why the sage didn’t simply finish him off for his betrayal, I confess, escapes me.”

  I suppressed an eyeroll. “Maybe Relias is squeamish about murder?”

  “It’s not as if he’d face any consequences.” Oliver sniffed. “Now then, Headmaster Nora—did you find the pins?”

  “Three of them exactly,” she replied, pulling out a set of plain-looking metal brooches. “The rest are in use.”

  I plucked one from her hand. “Not very decorative, are they?”

  “That’s the point,” she said. “They’re meant to dull and dim our features. It’s similar to what I did when we snuck out of the temple in Chairo, but the platinum inside holds the effect, so I don’t have to.”

  “It only alters physical appearance,” Oliver murmured, frowning. “So mind you, it won’t mask that golden aura of yours.”

  “Right… I’ll just suppress it.”

  “Do you believe you are doing so now?”

  I blinked and looked at my hands. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Yes?”

  “Yet it shines brighter to me than ever before.” Oliver shook his head and took the brooch from my hand. “Let me see what I can do to mitigate that.” He held out his palm to Nora. “I suppose I should modify one for the sage as well.”

  “Still can’t say his name?” Nora asked, tossing him the second brooch.

  “Sage suffices, does it not?” He rose to his feet without waiting for a reply. “Until tomorrow, then.”

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  With an audible poof, he vanished.

  Nora and I spent a quiet evening together, exchanging small talk that carefully avoided any mention of responsibility. We both needed the break to recharge, refuel, and just exist. Dinner arrived courtesy of her subordinates, and even after my earlier secret indulgence, I had no trouble helping myself to a generous portion.

  Relias stopped by much later.

  “Thank you for allowing me the time to find my center once again,” he said with a faint bow.

  “Now that you’ve found it, fill it,” Nora replied, pointing to one of the platters still laden with food.

  “I’m not entirely sure what all of these are,” I admitted. “But the mini meat pies will help with that.”

  “Mushrooms, not meat,” Nora corrected. “Meat would mean sending mages to hunt on the surface, and they’d rather not be noticed by the locals.”

  “That makes them even more impressive,” I said admiringly.

  Nora smirked. “The mages or the mushrooms?”

  “Well, both. But even more so, the mages who made the savory mushroom pies.”

  I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the bed. My sleep was dreamless, and I woke up relatively early on my own. Oliver was already in the suite’s common room, but I was the first to join him.

  “The cake has improved your countenance significantly,” he said, his smugness outweighing any hint of flattery.

  “Along with a good night’s rest,” I added. “It’s not often I get two in a row.”

  Nora came next, and Relias was the last to join us.

  “Your new staff suits you,” I noted.

  “It is new to me, but it feels like an old friend,” Relias replied. “It was well cared for by Councilman Vetus and those who came before him.” He glanced hesitantly at Oliver. “While there was no way for me to attend his funeral in Lios, I was assured by his kin that it was conducted according to his wishes.”

  “Some of the mages attended in secret,” Oliver said, not quite meeting his eyes. “Far more drinking and carousing than is customary in Chairo, I’m sure.”

  Relias took a deep breath. “In the High Temple, perhaps. But afterward? Private mourning is at the discretion of the mourner. Best to send him off with his bottle of choice.”

  “Blackroot brandy,” they said in unison before turning away.

  “You drink?” I asked Relias with an accidental gasp.

  Relias coughed. “Responsibly… I assure you.”

  “Enough small talk,” Oliver muttered. “Let’s be on our way to the Northern Land of Dragons.”

  It was Nora’s turn to gasp. “The Land of Dragons?!”

  “That is our ultimate destination, is it not?” Oliver asked Relias.

  Relias gave him a flat look. “I surmise you’ve been there before.”

  “Once,” Oliver said without a hint of guilt. “It stands to reason the door to Paradise is somewhere within.”

  “Are there really dragons there?” Nora and I asked in near-unison.

  “Yes,” said Relias.

  “No,” replied Oliver.

  They glared at each other.

  “Sorry, but I’m going with Relias on this one,” Nora declared. “If the Holy Man says there are dragons, then there are dragons.”

  “There is one dragon,” Oliver clarified. “So the answer to your question is no.”

  Nora sneered. “Semantics!”

  “One dragon…” I murmured. “He must be very lonely.”

  “She,” Oliver corrected, his tone loftier than necessary.

  “Your assertion, however, is still correct,” Relias said with a nod. “She was close with Raela, and no one else…”

  “Again, your idle chatter delays us,” Oliver snapped. “We best be off before things worsen.”

  While I considered how one might befriend a dragon, we followed the hallway to another sealed room, nearly identical to the one we’d arrived through. The runic circle flickered as we stepped into it, then brightened as Nora raised her new, dual-orbed staff.

  “Power them as discussed,” Oliver instructed, folding his arms. “There’s only one destination keyed to this circle, but proper technique should be maintained regardless of simplicity.”

  Though she gave him a wicked side glance, she began powering up each rune in clockwise order.

  “The notes on this circle describe a dry well about two days west of Fort Turri,” Oliver continued, handing each of us a pin. “It’ll be early morning there, but I’d still expect nearby activity.”

  I looked down at the brooch he’d given me, now etched with a serpentine sigil.

  At least he’s consistent with branding.

  I’d love to say I was getting used to being pulled apart during translocation and that I’d recovered quickly, but that would be an outright lie. I hit the ground, kneeling the moment we reassembled. It was dark, and I wasn’t the only one brought to my knees. Also, the 'dry well' was not dry. The bottom was filled with several inches of slimy, stagnant water.

  Oliver summoned a dim light that was quite underwhelming.

  “Can’t you make it any brighter?” I asked, fighting a wave of nausea.

  “Not without damaging your retinas, no.”

  “Is this darkness… ambient animus?”

  “Indeed,” he sighed. “As expected, my filtration system was ruined when the tower fell. There may be less of it on the surface, but this is one of the reasons I’ve been in a bit of a hurry.”

  “But your tower was in the southern Wastelands...!”

  “So?”

  I stared at him. Or the space I assumed he occupied.

  “If you’re done making faces, I’ll scout ahead,” he said, his voice drifting upward.

  Relias stood, his staff tapping the stone floor as he summoned a barrier of gold. “This should help.”

  “Filtration system…” Nora muttered, standing. “I suppose all that black sand could have been part of it…”

  Several minutes later, a clatter echoed down.

  “Ladder incoming,” Oliver called.

  Thankfully, he lowered it slowly. The climb out was manageable, though the rope and wood were a bit unstable.

  “You should know there’s a small town nearby,” Oliver said, “with a holy knight arming anyone who can see lightning and hear thunder with blessed weapons.” He pointed at me. “Even stranger is that they’re saying it’s being done under your personal command. You're quite busy these days, aren't you?”

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