9 April 1686 of the 6th Era, Nightingale Road, South District

  “Are you planning to get up?”

  “Do I need to?” Charlotte lazily opened her eyes, looked at Antony, who was presently standing in the doorway with his hands crossed, then dragged the duvet over her head, with that gesture clearly signalling to him what she thought of the idea. “What time is it even?”

  “A bit past ten,” he covered his mouth with his hand, half yawning, half grinning. “The sun’s already up.”

  “Glad for it. Doesn’t mean I have to get up with it.”

  From underneath the blanket, she could hear Antony sigh and mutter something. However, nothing followed. She waited for a bit, then carefully lifted the edge of the duvet and peeked through the gap. Antony was still standing in the doorway, indecisive as to what to do next. He tilted his head from side to side, then looked at the window, then again at Charlotte’s makeshift fortress of duvets and pillows. Finally, he rolled his eyes, then soundlessly walked over to the bed and dove underneath the blanket.

  Charlotte shrieked, then giggled, “Stop! It tickles!”

  “I’ll stop as soon as you get up,” he sat up, and she finally followed. “I made you coffee. And breakfast.”

  “I’ll be downstairs shortly,” she fell back onto the pillows, saw his desperate expression, and chuckled, “No, really. I will. I’m getting up, I swear.”

  “You said the same thing thirty minutes ago. I’ll believe it when I see it,” under his watchful gaze, she slowly rolled over to the edge of the bed, sat up next to him, and put on her morning gown. “I wish you didn’t have to go. This house finally feels like a home again.”

  “You know just as well as I do what that would entail. For you, for your career… for both your careers. And, at the end of the day, what it might mean for me.”

  “I know. Still.”

  For a while, she sat there, mindlessly watching the dust specs drift in the air, passing through the sun rays. There were hundreds of topics she still wanted to talk about; places she still wanted to visit; things she wanted to do. A week was most definitely not enough. At this point, an entire lifetime felt too short to fit all of that. And the thought that she would have to go back to writing letters and exchanging Sending spells made her heart cry out in protest.

  “I don’t want to go, either,” she confessed, then cheerfully smiled. “But you know what? Me returning to Lundhaven doesn’t mean this is the last time we see each other. You’re a mage after all. I know that just teleporting to the other side of the continent is a task and a half, but… You know, you could create a teleportation circle to avoid any mishaps. I think I can keep my broom closet free of, well, brooms.”

  “If that’s not an inconvenience.”

  “Not at all. I have extra storage space,” she saw him instantly brighten up.

  Then, another thought occurred to him, “You won’t get into trouble because of it? From what I know–”

  “It’s fine. I am allowed to use my position at the church from time to time,” she hurried to placate him.

  They continued to the dining room, discussing what Charlotte still needed to pack with her and what errands she wanted to run before this evening, when the church offered her a teleportation window.

  “Oh, I completely forgot to tell you yesterday. I ran into Cardinal Whitesand while you were having tea with Lady Greenforest,” Antony continued as they sat down at the dining table. “He said that the Nightmare Poets finally caught the idiot responsible for all of those greenish lights across the city.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “What a relief. Who was it?”

  “Oddly enough, not even a cult this time. Just some teenager dabbling in forbidden magic. Had a quarrel with a friend and wanted to scare him, only that the prank went… a bit too far. Youth, stupidity, and maximalism, a tale as old as time,” he almost sang the last phrase, making Charlotte chuckle. “But that’s not the only good news. He also mentioned that Lord Upcher finally confessed to his crimes, and Mr Brook was released from prison. With proper apologies and a compensation personally delivered by Mr Placek.”

  “Took them a while to get him to talk.”

  “He hoped that the evidence against him would get ‘lost’ again or be conveniently destroyed in some accident or other. Until he was confronted with charges for tampering with a high profile case. The Nightmare Poets still have to do a bit of weeding in their ranks, and so does the SIU, but they’ll be better for it,” Antony put down his teacup, waited for his glasses to defog, and threw a slice of cheese on his toast. “This is one public hanging that people won’t want to miss. There’s one thing I don’t understand though. All these years, he has been blackmailing Lord Welz, content with what he was getting. Until, of course, he couldn’t get on the council and decided that both Lord Welz and Andrew had to go. Hence all of his actions to destabilise the RAS – he wanted Andrew’s death to look like an accident. However, he wasn’t trying to conduct any vile rituals. Never tried to imbue that thing with additional power, either… Why did the Lady of the Dead Moon send you a prophecy about the end of the city, if not half a continent?”

  Charlotte shrugged her shoulders, turning her attention to the cup of coffee in front of her.

  “The future is never set in stone until it’s happened,” she said finally. “Who knows why the death of one man would have unleashed an all-destroying curse on the city. I certainly don’t. Maybe he’s a favourite of some god or other. Or maybe it has something to do with the ghoul’s ability to steal time and use the time stream to get around. I still can’t believe we never considered this option thirty years ago, when we couldn’t understand why we couldn’t track it.”

  “Honestly, you can’t know everything. Back then, there was no one next to you who knew how that school of magic functioned, either. And even if there were… I doubt you would have had a need to travel to the past. We only realised that it could be the case because we saw it in the time stream. Even then, the realisation came when it breached the defences of your archives, a feat impossible for a ghoul.”

  “Perhaps,” she was still upset with herself, but knew that he was right. She returned to his initial question, “I’ve heard the RAS has a bit of an issue with teleportation and space manipulation spells.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. I’d say it’s another Kirschbaum waiting to happen.”

  “How did you people manage?”

  “Years of practice,” he sighed. “We have many talented alchemists, but that doesn’t mean they’re also talented mages. And the building is right on top of a mana leyline.

  “It is a possibility. Things had to go horribly wrong, but there are a few unstable teleportation spots,” he suddenly paused, as if an entirely different thought crossed his mind. Charlotte quizzically tilted her head, but he only smiled in answer and continued where he left off, “The ghoul’s ability could disturb the mana flow and lead to an uncontrollable reaction.”

  “Or, perhaps, it was a different thing entirely. Related to alchemy. I don’t really have an answer for you. I know what I saw, and I know She would never have interfered like that without a bloody good reason.

  “However, now that we’re talking about not understanding things,” she paused, feeling her heartbeat suddenly rise. “When She all but manifested in that room to break the curse on Mr Brook, you were looking straight at me. And same thing at the restaurant. Usually, people at least avert their gaze, are paralyzed with fear, or even try to flee. An embodiment of a god is almost as unbearable to be next to as the actual god.”

  “I don’t know,” he vaguely gestured, looking her in the eyes. “Maybe it’s because even in that manifestation, I still saw you, not Her.”

  Charlotte sighed and crossed her arms on her chest, leaning back in the chair, “Are we really going to play this game?”

  Antony paused, carefully observing her, “I take it that was a rhetorical question?.. Thought as much. It was futile trying to hide it from you, wasn’t it?”

  “You just used a Wish spell to make tea because you ran out of it,” she pointed out. “No mortal capable of that kind of magic would waste their mana like that.

  “Besides, that spell you used in the archives. I felt a spark of the divine within it, and that spark came from within you, not was granted to you. I know that you’re not an avatar of a deity,” she allowed herself a tiny chuckle. “I can recognise them. Your disguise? I cannot see through that. What are you, Antony?”

  He picked up his cup and thoughtfully looked across the room. Charlotte patiently waited. Finally, he said, “The closest name for my people I can think of in Enuan, or any other mortal language, would be ‘Keepers’. A group of Celestials who protect True history, knowledge, and hope.”

  “Protect from who?”

  This time, it took him even longer to answer. When he did, it was a single word, the sound of which sent shivers down Charlotte’s spine.

  “Noah.”