I awoke with a groan and a splitting headache. My eyes blurred and I saw double as I tried to focus. My mother talked about how bad migraines were sometimes, but I’d never had one, so never really understood.

  I understood now. It felt like someone had stabbed a spike through my skull into the center of my brain and it was growing, cutting through everything and creating enough pressure it was a wonder gray matter wasn’t spewing out my ears.

  What happened? With my fast regeneration, coupled with the enormous charge built up in my Tesla Coil bracelet after defeating Count Nextharos, any injury I’d suffered should heal in seconds, or at least ease that biting edge of pain.

  My pain tolerance was literally superhuman. I’d been broken, burned, melted, and bitten in half. None of that was permanent, not with magical healing, so pain was more an annoyance. At least, usually it was. This mental pain made me grit my teeth around another groan.

  “Ah, you have decided to rejoin us,” came a silky smooth voice that seemed to float through my ears and calm the raging pain in my head. It resonated with a subtle power and carried a delightful depth, as if a barely-audible choir of angels were singing exultant hymns in the background.

  My gaze sharpened and I finally became aware of my surroundings. I was still in the shattered ruins of the mansion’s great entrance hall, but I wasn’t alone. My aching body hung just off the floor in the grasp of two hulking stone golems with rounded shoulders, batlike wings, and grotesque faces that made gothic cathedral gargoyles seem like cuddly toddler playthings.

  In stark contrast to the ugly golems, a shirtless nymph warrior with oversized muscles that would make Arnold Schwarzenegger pant with jealousy stood in front of me, slightly to one side. His perfect, sculpted face was set in an expression of disapproval, his bronzed skin shone with oil, and his pure white wings ruffled slightly in the constant rain.

  “Over here, pet,” came the sweet voice again, dragging my eyes past the nymph Adonis to a tall woman standing another pace away from me.

  She was stunning. Tall, perfectly proportioned, with generous curves, and thick, black hair that shifted subtly in an invisible current framing an inhumanly gorgeous face with flawless white skin. She wore a clingy, golden silk blouse and a skirt of midnight blue. The sight of her took my breath away, and for a second it didn’t register that I was being held prisoner by those gargoyles.

  My mind seemed to be struggling to get rolling, and my thoughts moved like jelly. Squinting at the vision of perfection standing in front of me, I croaked through a dust-dry throat, “Who are you?”

  She smiled so bright, it was like the sun had taken human form, and a feeling of absolute happiness washed through me. Her voice danced through my mind. “I’m Countess Syvelis, and I’m going to make you scream in agony for an hour for every single health point you stole from me with that infernal bomb.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding and grinning like an idiot.

  It seemed to take forever for her words to sink in. When they did, the shock of realization helped wake me up more and shake off a bit of the stupor I’d fallen into. It was enough for Identify to trigger.

  Countess Syvelis Veiltide, the Silent Rumor. Level-99 Nymph Lady Mentalist.

  A senior member of Queen Marisara’s court, Syvelis is the master of persuasion, possession, and psychic intrusion. She’s a renowned information broker, who removes her enemies through blackmail, seduction, or a well-timed whisper. Few see through her illusions clearly enough to understand the true depths of her depravity before she destroys their mind and enslaves their will. You should have run faster.

  That didn’t bode well, but I barely processed the information. I couldn’t seem to generate any fear, and the one thought that percolated to the top was Hey, I’ve found the countess. That’ll make things easier.

  For some reason, I wasn’t sure that thought was entirely correct, but trying to puzzle it out was too hard.

  Syvelis approached a couple of sinuous, swaying steps that seemed as hypnotic as her voice. “A friend encouraged me to accelerate my plans for the evening and even provided a way for me to descend to this stage without bankrupting my treasury.”

  “Sounds like a good friend,” I said, my words slurring a bit as my brain kept shorting out.

  She smiled again. “I was happy to take the chance since didn’t want either of those blockheads to damage you before I got my chance to make you bleed.”

  “Makes sense,” I mumbled. A tiny voice in the back of my mind was screaming something urgent, but it was hard to focus on. So much easier to listen to her velvet voice.

  “Imagine my surprise to simply find you flying free,” she continued, her voice purring as she traced one perfectly manicured finger down the side of my face. Her nail was painted a vibrant shade of orange, which seemed weird for some reason.

  “Surprise,” I said, chuckling to myself.

  Her smile returned, making me grin. “Your mind is still a bit rattled, but I need you more alert before the fun begins. I am afraid I sucker-punched your mind a bit harder than I had intended in my excitement. I am so glad I didn’t kill you outright. That would be no fun at all.”

  “No fun,” I agreed, shaking my head slightly.

  “So, wakey wakey,” she said in a teasing tone before flicking me on one ear.

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  The fog burying my thoughts thinned a bit and my mind came more fully awake. I blinked from Syvelis to the over-muscled nymph warrior, who I now noticed wore a belt hanging with several wicked iron instruments that could only be intended for torture. The stone golems hadn’t moved, but as my senses returned to maybe 50% of normal, I also spotted a couple more of her minions I hadn’t even noticed before.

  Another muscled nymph warrior stood guard by one wall, close where I’d set my remote-triggered potion of napalm. Another female stood guard on the far side, almost directly on top of the broken remains of the entryway where I’d placed one of my emoji trap stickers. Those facts were important somehow, but I still wasn’t making the connections.

  Then I started violently as the recent conversation snapped into clarity and my mind awakened. I was hanging right in front of Countess Syvelis! I was her prisoner, and she intended to torture me. She’d captured me with some kind of mental attack that had totally overwhelmed my high Mental Resistance. I might be in even more trouble than I had been with Nextharos stabbing me from every side with his legendary weapon.

  “There you are,” Syvelis said, her honey-laced, hypnotic voice trying to distract me again. I shook it off. Barely. “Can’t have you not realizing what’s going on. You will suffer enormous pain today, Lucas.”

  “Why? I’m happy to talk,” I said, trying to buy some time as my finally-racing thoughts tried to catch up with reality and figure out what to do.

  She laughed, a soft sound that tugged my thoughts off course again. Her mind powers were so strong!

  “Oh, you’ll talk. You’ll beg and scream and tell me everything I want to know. That’s all well and good, but for once, it’s not that important. I just want to hear you scream.”

  I screamed in her face as hard and loud as I could.

  She recoiled a step, clearly surprised.

  “Like that? I’ve got a pretty good set of pipes, so grab a chair and I’ll see what kind of symphony I can whip up for you.”

  A playful smile tugged at her full, red lips. “A bit of spirit still clings to that weak soul of yours. Wonderful. You will indeed scream until you can no longer draw breath and only then will I deliver your broken body to my queen.”

  “Seems a bit rude. I thought Tydrion was supposed to get that honor.”

  I needed to keep her talking, maybe distract her somehow. I managed to scan my mana pool. It felt distant and sluggish, but it was there, and my spells felt available. Whatever she’d done was just messing with my mind. She hadn’t wrapped me in mana-crushing shackles, or anything. Probably never needed to bother.

  Syvelis glanced toward the nearby canal. “Neither have emerged seeking the prize, so I must assume those 2 fools killed themselves, didn’t they?” Her smile widened. “You thought you’d won the luckiest boon of all time and imagined you could escape, only to fall right into my hands? That’s got to be a crushing failure. How marvelous.”

  “Actually, I’m extremely happy you stopped by. I mean, your entrance was incredibly rude, but now that we’re all friendly, I think this will work out nicely.”

  She frowned, just a bit, but showed no other reaction as she intensified her mental assault of my mind, like invisible needles piercing my brain. The fog clouding my thoughts and making it hard to think grew thicker again, pressing down with crushing force and snuffing out most of my thoughts. As if from a great distance, I saw a notification, but lacked the mental energy to check it out.

  I could fight her, could block her influence. Right? I just couldn’t seem to think of how. My Mental Resistance was high, but I’d never felt anything like this. The pressure built until my skull felt like it was starting to split apart.

  I screamed and writhed in the grip of the 2 stone golems, but their arms did not so much as twitch. I shook wildly, scanning the ruins for any kind of relief. My eyes rested on that female nymph again.

  She could help. Somehow. Maybe? I groaned and blackness crept in among the thick, soupy fog, threatening to drag me to oblivion.

  Then the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started, leaving me gasping for breath, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, muscles quivering as if I’d been fighting for an hour.

  “That’s better,” Syvelis purred, smiling with such delight, she should have been inspecting a priceless artifact, not torturing me with her mind. “Please, share another glib comeback.”

  “You don’t get out much, do you?” I croaked. Even my lips hurt somehow. So weird. “There are certain social norms to follow when meeting someone new, but you botched them all. I bet you don’t get invited to the good parties.”

  I tensed for another searing mental attack, but she only laughed with delight, clapping her hands like a little girl, her orange nails flashing in the darkness.

  “Oh, but this will be such a delight. I almost never get anyone willing to talk back more than once.”

  “Slim pickings in that mud pit you call home, eh?”

  Her slap caught me in the side of the face before I even realized she’d moved. The blow knocked my head sideways hard enough to strain muscles, but the shock actually helped wake up my addled mind a bit.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” she actually pouted. “I don’t like hitting people.”

  “Right. You have minions to do the dirty work for you.”

  “Exactly,” she purred, then brightened and smiled again. “Oh, I want to share a little prize with you. That friend I mentioned before guided me to this delightful little trinket on my way down here. Found it just hanging all alone in the sky.”

  A golden object shaped like a bird in flight appeared in her delicate hand. It was crafted with exquisite detail, every feather perfectly formed, although the outstretched wings were blackened and partially melted. Hints of smoke drifted through little holes in the body. It looked like those incense lantern things monks used sometimes. Identify triggered.

  The Phoenix Censer. Unique. Echoes of Calamity quest relic 5 of 10.

  A silent witness of the calamitous failure of Eryndale’s mightiest weapon and the moment when the jubilant celebration sweeping Eryndale turned to terror. The censer still burns with the mana-imbued incense used as part of the ritual summoning the spiritual components of the great world-shattering weapon.

  I fought to hide my despair. I had to get that relic back, or we’d never complete the relic quest. Syvelis was watching me like a hawk enjoying the suffering of its latest prey. Then the rest of her words registered. What friend was she referring to? Someone helped her get down here without paying the huge access fee like Tydrion had said he needed?

  That wasn’t the first time someone had helped Marisara or her people. An unknown traitor lurking in the inner-world areas had helped her set up that tier-1 containment trap I’d barely escaped. Now they’d helped Syvelis get down here, led her to one of our relics, and set me up for death.

  Cyrus had promised he’d track the person down. Had they somehow eluded the mighty AI? That seemed implausible, but would Cyrus have allowed them to keep trying to undermine our efforts if he had found them? A topic to discuss with him if I survived Syvelis. Focusing on the gloating countess, I pushed my worries aside and managed a smile.

  “Thanks for bringing it down for me. It was such a hassle to find time to get up there and collect it.”

  She pouted again. “You’re no fun. Harald.”

  Syvelis flowed to one side, the hypnotic movement distracting me just long enough for that hugely muscled nymph torturer to step forward and slam a giant fist into my midsection. Harald could punch too. The blow caught me unprepared and sank deep, as if he was trying to punch through to my spine. The breath blasted from my lungs and I stared down in confusion.

  How had he hit me so hard? My armor should have blocked a simple punch. Except that’s when I realized they’d removed my Colossus Mantle armor. It lay in a heap nearby, taunting me by its proximity.

  This situation totally sucked.